Page 97 of No Match Found
I was on the phone when my door opened and Katie appeared. She noted me on the phone and motioned for me to hang up.
I shot her a look. I wasn’t about to hang up on a CTO. I did, however, wrap up the conversation sooner than I might have, inspired—or maybe concerned—by the nervous energy in Katie’s tapping foot.
“What?” I said with a hint of impatience once I set down the phone.
She walked over to my computer and hip-checked my chair out of the way, sending me rolling to the side so she could have access to my keyboard. She opened a new tab in my browser and typed in an unfamiliar web address.
“Is this another panda video, Katie?” I said. “I love them too, but you made it seem urgent, and?—”
She stepped back and pointed to the screen, one hand on her hip. “That. Look at that.”
I glossed over the row of ads at the top of the page and read the headline.
When Chemistry Trumps Compatibility: Matchify CEO’s Low-Score Love Story
My brows drew together, and my heartbeat quickened.
“Scroll,” Katie said.
Obediently, I scrolled down the page and sucked in a breath.
There was a picture of Grant and me in a parking lot, looking cozy.
TWENTY-EIGHT
It was an out-of-body experience,seeing the photo. I remembered the moment perfectly, but I’d experienced it from within—the smell of Grant’s cologne, the flickering sparks in the limited space between us, the thumping of my heart against my ribs. I’d wondered at the time if I’d exaggerated how close we’d been. His body had never actually touched mine, after all.
But looking at the photo…no. I hadn’t exaggerated it.
I could feel the electrical charge just looking at us.
“I thought you said you kissed at your apartment,” Katie said.
“We did. This was a different time. And we didn’t kiss.”
It was silent for a moment. “You mean to tell me you werethatclose and didn’t kiss?”
I nodded absently, my gaze shifting back to the headline, reminding me why I was looking at a photo of Grant and me in the first place—one that looked like a low-quality paparazzi snap. Someone had written an article about us.
My skin crawled with the feeling of exposure. Vulnerability.
Some of the most personal moments of my life were on display for anyone to see—and to criticize.
“Who took the picture?” Katie asked.
“I don’t know,” I said, a sick feeling in my stomach. Who had been watching us in the parking lot? And how would they have even known we were there? And why would they have thought to watch us?
“But you remember this moment?”
“Yeah, it was right after my date with Tann—” I stopped.
“What? Why are you making that face?”
I navigated to my Matchify inbox, my heart racing. “I hadn’t heard from Tanner since the date, but I got this from him this morning.” I moved aside for Katie to read the cryptic message.
Her brow furrowed. “Dude’s weird. Hard feelings about what?” Her eyes widened, and she looked at me. “You think this was him?”
I didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but the more I thought about it, the more the pieces clicked into place. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. He was maybe the only person who knew we were there.Andhe’s been trying to get his big break into journalism.”
