Chapter Five
“Okay, so I promised our next date would be more romantic.” Graham stopped on the sidewalk in front of the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art and threw his arms out wide. “Ta-da!”
Elle stared at the banner splashed across the building’s red brick facade.
New Exhibit: Romance of Today and Tomorrow.
“I see you took the challenge quite literally.” She placed a hand on the revolving door, but Graham pulled her back.
“Not so fast! There’s one more thing.” He flung open his charcoal gray peacoat and withdrew two small notebooks from an inside pocket.
“There’s homework?” Elle asked, unable to hide her surprise.
“Sort of.” Graham handed her one of the notebooks and retrieved a pen from his other pocket. “We have to grade each work of art, then compare our scores afterward.”
Elle groaned. “No way! First of all, you’re the one who enjoyed school. Not me. Secondly, I know nothing about art. If it’s good enough to be featured in a museum, then it must be pretty darn good.”
“That’s what they want you to think! But art is subjective. I don’t care what the museum curators think. I want to know what you think.”
Elle raised an eyebrow. “And you won’t judge my opinions?”
“Of course I will!” Graham chuckled. “That’s the fun part.”
Rolling her eyes playfully, Elle sighed. “Okay, fine. Let’s do this.”
The first piece in the exhibit stood at twenty-feet high and almost as wide.
Elle tilted her head in both directions, then squinted, but she couldn’t see anything. The entire canvas appeared completely blank. “Am I missing something?”
Graham read the bronze plaque to the left of the canvas. “This painting is titled Lonely Heart. It represents how vast and vacuous our lives are without love.”
Elle snorted, then quickly covered her mouth with her hand.
“Well, I think it’s profound.” Graham opened his notebook and jotted down a score.
“You do not.” Popping up on her tiptoes, Elle tried to sneak a peek inside.
He snapped the notebook shut, shooting her a teacherly frown. “No cheating. Write down your score. One through five. One being something you painted in kindergarten and five being Starry Night by Vincent van Gogh.”
Elle snickered. “I think I could have painted Starry Night in kindergarten.”
Graham shook his head in mock disapproval, his green eyes sparkling with humor. “I see I’ve brought a philistine to an art museum.”
“Maybe. But show me a beautiful circuit board, and I’ll swoon,” Elle teased.
“How about this?” Graham paused in front of a sculpture of the Venus de Milo made entirely out of discarded cell phone parts.
“Wow.” The sight literally took Elle’s breath away.
Each work of art grew more interesting, and more complex, as they continued through the exhibit, finally landing in front of the largest sculpture Elle had ever seen. The two heads, bent toward each other as though about to kiss, were nearly fifty-feet tall. And they were constructed from thousands of puzzle pieces.
“Did you know about this?” Elle whispered, unable to take her eyes off of it.
“I might have read something about it online before bringing you here,” Graham admitted. “It’s pretty cool, huh?”
“It’s…” Unable to find the right words to describe it, she took a step backward, trying to take it all in.
Backing right into Graham.
“Whoa!” His hands instinctively went to her waist to steady her.
“Sorry!” she stammered, flustered by his touch.
“No problem. You only broke two of my toes.” He chuckled.
They stood side by side, absorbing the enormity of the exhibit. The sculpture hovered above a large square resembling a sandbox filled with puzzle pieces. The two kissing faces seemed to rise from the jumbled mass.
After a moment, Graham strode toward the box, sitting on the edge to read the plaque. “The exhibit is called Us. It’s the artist’s attempt to illustrate how we are all connected by love.”
Elle sat beside him and picked up one of the irregular shapes, turning it over in her palm.
“What does this sculpture mean to you?” Graham asked, studying her face.
Elle selected another shape from the heap. “What are the odds that this piece will fit with this one?” she asked.
“Pretty slim,” Graham admitted, though he noticed they weren’t the first to try finding a match. Segments of interlocked pieces were scattered about the mound.
Elle tried to connect the two pieces together, but none of the edges were a match. She tossed the second piece back into the pile and reached for another. Again, she tried to connect them to no avail. “I’ve never seen two people more in love than my parents,” she said softly, trying a third piece, then a fourth. “It wasn’t as if they never fought. Dad used to say Mom loved a good argument like some women loved chocolate.”
A faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she recalled her father’s words. “But they had this thing they would do sometimes. Especially in the middle of a fight.”
Graham sifted through the assortment, searching for just the right silhouette, while he waited patiently for her to explain.
“Dad would hold up his hand, fingers spread, palm facing my mom.” Elle held up her hand in the same manner but quickly pulled back as though she’d been burned. A vivid memory flooded her mind, and she blinked rapidly as tears stung her eyes. She returned her attention to the shapes in her palm, distracting herself enough to continue. “Then Mom would press her hand into his, interlocking their fingers.” As a tear escaped, sliding down her cheek, two pieces clicked into place. “I asked my mom about it once, and she said they were like puzzle pieces. No matter what happened, they fit together. Through the good and the bad. Holding hands reminded them of that truth.”
Elle ran a finger over the seam where the two pieces fit together. “That’s why I created the app. I wanted other people to find what my parents had. That one person who’s a perfect fit.”
She stared at the symbol of her parents’ love until she became painfully aware of the awkward silence. When she finally mustered up enough courage to meet Graham’s gaze, she noticed he held a puzzle piece in his open palm.
“What?” she asked softly. “You always get a little crinkle in your forehead when you have something to say.”
“I’m glad you shared that with me, Elle. Honestly. But, I—“ He broke off, running his fingers through his hair.
“What?” she pressed again, her heart pounding.
Without saying a word, Graham placed the puzzle piece in her palm, next to the other two. He hesitated a moment before sliding his piece closer, finally snapping them together.
They were a perfect fit.
Three puzzle pieces, side by side.
“I don’t understand,” she said, searching his face. “What are you getting at?”
“Have you ever noticed how a puzzle piece has more than one side?” he asked gently.
Elle shrugged, too anxious to speak.
Graham leaned forward, his green eyes tender. “You’re operating under the assumption that there’s only one other person in this world who’s a perfect fit for you. But what if it’s not that simple? What if it boils down to making a choice? And then, once you make that choice, you choose that person again and again, every single day, no matter what, for the rest of your lives.”
Elle’s breath came hard and fast, but she couldn’t get enough air. In spite of the expansive room, the walls seemed to close in around her.
“Hey.” Graham placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know that look. And I didn’t mean to crash your entire world around you. It’s merely something to think about, okay? That’s all.”
His soothing voice restored her equilibrium, and she managed to breathe a little easier.
Graham ran his hand along her
back in a comforting caress, and her skin tingled despite the thickness of her coat. As if sensing the effect he had on her, he scooted closer.
Maybe it was the rush of emotions or inspiration from the sculpture behind them, but either way, Elle sensed what was coming next.
Graham was going to kiss her.
And she’d never been more thrilled or terrified in her life.
He bent his head, angling his mouth toward hers.
Elle tilted her chin, fluttering her eyelids closed when suddenly, she was blinded by a flash of light.
“Kiss! Kiss for the camera!”
Blinking and bewildered, Elle glanced around and spotted a photographer standing nearby, camera poised and ready. Had they been followed this entire time?
Graham looked equally startled as the reporter shouted at them to kiss. A crowd soon formed around them, taking up the chant.
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
Elle stared into the sea of blurry faces, then back at Graham.
Should they kiss? And give the crowd what they wanted?
Overwhelmed by the relentless demand, she angled her face toward his once more, ready to comply.
But, as she leaned forward, Graham slid back.
Quickly jumping to his feet, he pushed past the throng, toward the exit.
Leaving Elle to scramble after him.
As she studied his back, and his heavy, purposeful stride, her heart wrenched inside her chest.
It wasn’t the first time Graham Dalton had broken her heart.
But it would certainly be the last.
Chapter Six
“It’s called Are You Dateable?” Jason stood proudly at the head of the conference table as he revealed his latest idea.
Elle choked on her cronut, scattering rainbow sprinkles across the table.
“Are you dateable?” Lacey repeated, as though saying the words herself might make them more palatable.
“It’s a quiz that determines how dateable the user is. Your programmers have already implemented it. And, I have to say, it’s been more successful than I anticipated.”
Elle’s stomach churned, and she pushed the rest of her pastry to the side. He may have ruined cronuts for the rest of her life.
“But what’s the point?” Lacey asked.
“Besides being incredibly lucrative, it’s a funnel into the real money-maker.” He paused for effect. “Phase two of my marketing strategy.”
“Which is…” Lacey prompted.
Every muscle in Elle’s body clenched, and she wasn’t sure if she could bear to hear any more. What was next? Pay five dollars for someone to insult you?
“In-app dating consultations.”
Lacey leaned forward, her eyes bright with interest. “You mean like offering dating advice?”
“Think bigger,” Jason said. “You guys need to level up if you’re going to stay on top. So, we have to ask ourselves what you can offer that other apps don’t. And that’s live, twenty-four-hour dating consultants. For a premium fee, of course.”
“But won’t that cost us a fortune to manage?” Lacey asked.
“We’ll outsource the work at first, but eventually you’ll want to hire your own staff of consultants. But, you’ll more than make up the costs by offering the service for VIP memberships only. They’ll pay triple your current monthly membership fee. At least.”
Lacey let out a low whistle. “Wow. You really think people will pay that?”
“Easily. Especially after they take our quiz and realize they need all the help they can get.”
Elle’s head swam as she looked from Jason to Lacey. Their body language told her that, as far as they were concerned, his most recent proposal was a done deal.
Confirming Elle’s suspicions, Lacey asked, “And when do you want to implement this?”
“We’ll announce it at the anniversary party on Valentine’s Day,” Jason said. “Of course, until then, users will continue taking the quiz. By the time we release the new service, they’ll be begging to upgrade.”
“All right, then.” Lacey stood and shook Jason’s hand. “We’ll follow your lead. You haven’t steered us wrong yet.”
“Just wait, ladies. Puzzle is going to be bigger than Match, eHarmony, and Zoosk combined.”
“Who are they?” Lacey winked, and Jason joined her in a conspiratorial laugh.
Elle remained glued to her chair. The entire meeting had played out before her eyes like the first act of a suspense thriller. Except, her app was the kidnapped hostage, and Jason’s marketing strategy was the ticking time bomb strapped to its chest. Now, if Elle could only figure out if she was Liam Neeson to the rescue or collateral damage…
Lacey glanced at her watch, then at Elle. “Hey, don’t you have a lunch to get to?”
Shoot! She’d completely forgotten. Scrambling to her feet, she bid them a hasty goodbye and rushed to her office.
As she grabbed her purse and phone off of her desk, a familiar notification caught her eye.
1 New Message.
On the Puzzle app again.
Hesitating, Elle glanced at her phone. She really didn’t have a second to waste, but there was only one way to assuage her curiosity.
Plopping her purse back on the desk, she leaned against the edge and pulled up the message.
It was from the same anonymous sender.
“Know your own happiness. You want nothing but patience; or give it a more fascinating name: call it hope.”
After a hurried glance at Google, Elle confirmed her suspicion.
Another quote from Sense and Sensibility.
An irrational desire to fling her cell phone across the room came over her. Why was this person sending her random quotes from a book published over two centuries ago? And one she would have been perfectly happy never to read again. Whatever the reason, Elle found it infuriating.
If she’d had more time, she might have considered responding to the message. If only to chastise the sender.
But Elle was already several minutes late to lunch.
And it was a rather important one.
* * *
As Graham waited for Elle outside her favorite Mediterranean restaurant, he breathed a grateful sigh.
After tossing and turning all night, replaying the events of their date—and almost kiss—he’d picked up the phone that morning eager to invite her to lunch and set things straight. But as soon as he’d touched the home screen, her text came through suggesting a time and place to meet that afternoon.
Clearly, he wasn’t the only one bothered by what happened. Or rather, what didn’t happen.
Annoyingly enough, it was Dean’s words that popped into his head as Elle leaned in, her lips parted, offering him the very thing he’d dreamt about a million times over. But Graham knew if he’d kissed her, placating the crowd, the lines between their fake relationship and their growing connection would be irrevocably blurred. When he finally did kiss her, he didn't want Elle to have any doubts about the authenticity of his feelings. In hindsight, though, he worried his decision might have destroyed any possibility of a second chance.
Elle’s greeting seemed colder than usual, but Graham tried to brush it off, holding the door open for her to enter the restaurant. He expected her to go straight to the hostess, but she sailed past, calling over her shoulder, “They’re already here.”
“They?” Graham asked.
He halted mid-stride when he spotted Dean and Jess snuggled in a booth, waiting for them.
“Hey, bro.” Dean waved innocently.
Graham shot daggers his way as he slid next to Elle on the other side of the booth.
Dean ignored him and turned to Elle. “Thanks for picking the place.”
“I was happy to. It’s one of my favorite restaurants in the city.”
“Best hummus I’ve ever had.” Jess gestured to the half-empty plate of complimentary pita and hummus on the table. “I’m Jess. Dean’s soon-to-be ball and chain.” She giggled, reaching across th
e table to shake Elle’s hand.
“I love your manicure,” Elle said, admiring the intricate pink and red hearts design.
“Thanks! I just got them done for our wedding next weekend. Do you think they’re overkill? Dean says I’m obsessed with Valentine’s Day.”
“Not at all.” Elle smiled. “The hearts are very subtle.”
“You know what’s not subtle?” Dean asked. “A fuchsia tuxedo.”
Jess rolled her eyes. “I’m going to hear about this until the day you die, aren’t I?”
“Hey!” Dean protested. “How do you know I’ll die first?”
“Statistics, babe.” Jess leaned across the table toward Elle. “Our wedding colors are pink and red. Since I have red hair,”—she pointed to her fiery red curls—“his tux clearly had to be pink, right?”
“Oh, absolutely.” The corners of Elle’s mouth twitched as she nodded.
“Finally, someone who gets it!” Jess turned to Graham. “I like this woman. I approve her as your plus-one.”
Graham cleared his throat, shifting his weight in the oversized booth.
Jess groaned. “You haven’t asked her yet? I swear, it’s in the Dalton men’s genes.” Turning back to Elle, she slapped both palms on the table. “You’re coming to our wedding next Saturday. Do you want salmon or steak?”
“Uh,” Elle stammered, completely caught off guard. “Salmon?”
“Excellent!” Jess leaned back against the booth, looking pointedly at Graham. “See how easy that was?”
Graham chugged his glass of water. Arranging a surprise lunch with the sole intention of humiliating him in front of Elle was low, even for Dean. Given a choice between the two indignities, Graham would gladly don the fuchsia tuxedo. Yep, that settled it. He was going to kill Dean. Maybe with the butter knife conveniently located two inches away.
The sound of his brother’s not-so-subtle chuckle only fueled his desire for revenge.
But before Graham could execute his plan for vengeance, Jess playfully slugged Dean in the arm. “You have no room to gloat, buddy.” She grinned at Elle. “If I didn’t ask him out, he’d still be showing up at the hospital faking one ailment or another.”
Puzzle Pieces (Second Chance Romance) Page 4
