Page 71 of A Perfect Fit

“Okay, I didn’t tell you this earlier, but I weighed it at home before leaving.”

“That’s cheating,” I grumble. “It’s not a bet if you already know the answer.”

A smug grin springs to her lips. “You never asked, though, or said that was part of the rules.”

I’ll give her that.

“I have a serious question for you, though,” she says. “How are you feeling about your company being nominated as a finalist for tonight?”

“If we win, that would be great,” I respond. “But if we don’t, that’s all good, too. There are many other businesses that also deserve the win.”

Truthfully, I don’t even care about winning or networking tonight. The only thing I’m looking forward to is spending more time with Isabelle.

She fakes a gasp. “I’m shocked. What happened to your ruthless competitive spirit?”

“It’s reserved for one person only.”

Isabelle rolls her eyes. “Very smooth.”

“Put your seat belt on, Isabelle.”

She does as I said.

Once the plane takes off, I take out my laptop and attempt to get some work done, but it’s a challenge because I’m tempted to sneak a glance at Isabelle every few minutes.

She’s quietly reading another one of her romance novels—one with a cartoon cover—and from the way her eyes are glued to the pages, I can tell she’s fully immersed in the story.

At one point, she lets out a giggle and a tiny squeal at something she just read.

Intrigue filling my body, I close my laptop lid and lean over to peer at her book. “What’s got you so excited?”

“Nothing,” she yelps, snapping the book shut.

The only thing I manage to catch is the words good girl on the page.

A smirk springs to my lips as I reopen my laptop lid. “Good girl, huh?”

Isabelle freezes. “What about it?”

“I’m thinking I should start calling you a good girl.”

Isabelle crosses her arms. “Don’t make fun of me. Who knows what kind of freaky stuff you’re into?”

“You wanna know?”

She mimes gagging. “No, thanks.”

I let out a laugh, and Isabelle grumbles before putting her book away, digging around her bag for something else.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

She takes out a magazine. “Switching to reading this instead since I apparently can’t keep a straight face when I’m reading my books next to you.”

I glance at the magazine. “The latest edition of Sparkes Magazine.”

Perfect timing for tonight’s event.

Isabelle points to the photo of a woman on one of the pages. “That’s Elizabeth Sparkes, founder and editor in chief. She’s an inspiration to me.”