Page 68 of A Perfect Fit

A twinkle shines in her eyes. “Do you believe in love?”

“Why do you ask?” I tease, slightly taken aback by her question.

Despite my parents’ marriage not working out and never experiencing falling in love myself, I do believe in love. I think of Lucy and her husband, Victor, who told Lucy that he was going to marry her when she got pregnant at twenty-one. And Tony’s been happily married to his wife for nearly thirty years.

“I think you’re in love,” Anna says.

I cock a brow. “That’s a very bold statement, Anna. How do you know what that’s like?”

“The way you were looking at Isabelle. It was just like how my daddy looks at my mommy every day.”

A chuckle escapes my throat. “You’re very observant, Anna.”

Anna purses her lips. “You won’t be laughing when Brendan kisses her before you do.”

Hell no.

Glancing at Isabelle again, I watch as she places Brendan’s coffee on the counter, and then he lifts his phone to show her something.

Fuck. Is he giving her his number?

There’s only one way to find out.

“Stay here,” I tell Anna before grabbing my folder and marching over to the counter.

“Go, Uncle Jace!” she squeals from behind me.

I walk up to Brendan and sneak a glimpse at his phone, internally letting out a sigh of relief when it’s only some random cat video.

“Hey, man,” I say, clearing my throat. “I thought you had a train to catch.”

Brendan turns to me, then checks the time on his phone. “Shit. You’re right, man. Thanks for the reminder.”

“You’re welcome.”

A frown spreads on his face, and he gives me a pat on the shoulder. “By the way, your jaw looks quite tight. You might want to relax a little.”

“Thanks for your concern,” I begrudgingly say.

Brendan flashes a bright smile that seems genuine but only irks me further. “You’re more than welcome.” He grabs his coffee, turning to Isabelle again with another grin. “It was lovely to meet you, Isabelle.”

Pressure builds in my ribs as I watch him.

Isabelle gives Brendan a polite nod. “You too. Have a good rest of the day.”

Brendan heads off, and Isabelle folds her arms once he’s out of earshot. “Did you come here to tell the customers to go away?”

“Not all,” I correct. “Only those who are playing with fire.”

“Were you going to order anything?”

“I’m good. I just had something I wanted to give to you.” I hand her the folder in my hands and then touch the back of my neck. “There are a few marketing ideas inside. For your fashion show, I mean. I had another look at your socials and thought of some strategies you could use.”

That’s not the only thing I prepared, but my other—and bigger—surprise for her will be revealed tonight at the event.

Isabelle flips open the file inside the folder, her eyes widening. “Wow, this is amazing. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I thickly say. “It’s nothing.”