Mira

His next text takes a full ten minutes. I worry I've scared him off, but then he comes back with an answer I wasn't expecting.

Grant: Elizabeth Bennet.

I double over with laughter.

Me: Honestly, she's the best character.

Grant: She's a woman.

Me: She's more than that.

Grant: Apparently. Otherwise there wouldn't be seventeen versions of her story.

Grant: Though I have a soft spot for the 2005 Lizzy.

I'm smiling so hard my cheeks hurt.

Me: You watched the movies?!

Grant: Yes.

Grant: But keep it to yourself. If you tell anyone, I'll find your IP address.

His attempt at a joke makes me smile.

Me: Was that a joke?

Grant: If you have to ask, I failed.

Me: I'm teasing you.

I want to get more information out of him. No normal man watches Pride and Prejudice without an ulterior motive, and I think I know why he went to all that trouble.

Me: Why did you watch those movies?

The little dots appear and disappear several times before his reply arrives.

Grant: To dissect them from a purely scientific perspective.

Me: You're such a nerd.

Based on the few details Grant has shared with me, I've started picturing him as a sexy geek. I mean, the guy subscribes to National Geographic and religiously watches Jeopardy! before bed! If he didn't occasionally drop pop culture references and share my taste in music, I'd think I was being catfished by some old man. I'm aware that's still a possibility, but I'm waiting for the right moment to insist that we meet. Today's conversation is the perfect opening.

Me: So, what did you conclude?

His reply is instant.

Grant: That you're as crazy as I thought.

Grant: But it's almost endearing.

Coming from him, that's practically a compliment. The warmth already in my chest spreads through my body like wildfire.

I spend the rest of the day thinking about that exchange with Grant. It's hard not to jump to conclusions, but why else would he watch my favorite movies? All seventeen versions, no less?

I think Grant likes me. If only he had as much courage as Elizabeth Bennet and agreed to meet me in person!

Maybe someday...

---

Bowling shoes should never make anyone look elegant, but of course the man who wears suits worth thousands of dollars can make clown shoes look like designer creations. When Lena suggested bowling as our first group activity, I agreed without reservation, certain that a bowling alley would make Elliot so uncomfortable he'd drop out of the mentorship program.

I realized I was wrong when he arrived an hour ago with his own ball and shoes. I'm ninety percent sure he bought them at the bowling alley's pro shop because he couldn't stand the idea of sharing anything with the masses.

I've spent the past hour hoping he would make a mistake so I'd have the chance to prove my assumptions right. There's no way he's sincerely interested in taking part in my program... Right?

Actually, I was one hundred and ten percent wrong.

Elliot is completely different from what I imagined. He may still be a rich boy in a Burberry polo, but he's very kind to my sister and her boyfriend. And his behavior is stirring up all kinds of feelings in me.

"Elliot is cute," Lena says as she sits in the plastic chair beside me.

"Stop it!" I retort, glaring at her.

The thought that I might find Elliot cute ties my stomach in knots. I'm troubled because I like him, but I like Grant too. So I'm afraid I'm playing with their feelings. Every time I look at Elliot tonight, I feel more uncomfortable.

Being attracted to my boss is bad enough, but being attracted to two men at once is even worse. After what I went through with Victor, I want to avoid hurting someone that way at all costs.

"But look at him teaching J-P how to bowl."

She points to the two men standing side by side.

Trust me, Lena, I haven't been doing anything else.

Elliot demonstrates how to throw the bowling ball properly, then J-P copies his movement. I've been sitting here watching them for an hour, and I'm still not bored.

I shake my head.

"No way. I don't know what you're plotting, but stop."

"I'm not plotting anything."

"Every time we talk, you mention him."

"I like him," Lena says, all smiles.

"That doesn't mean I have to like him too."

"But you like everyone!"

"Not him," I reply with a grimace.

"Yeah, right. You blush when he looks at you."

"I do not!"

"You do, and you know it!" she retorts, shoving my shoulder.

"And why are you watching me all the time, anyway?"

"I think it's funny. Elliot gets all nervous too."

"Oh, really?"

This is my mother's fault: she encouraged Lena to believe in fairy tales from an early age.

Yes, and she passed the exact same way of thinking on to you.

"What else have you noticed?"

"I thought you didn't like him?"

Lena arches an impudent eyebrow.

Her expression finally makes me burst out laughing. Elliot's eyes meet mine, and goose bumps rise on my skin. He returns his full attention to J-P just as J-P nearly drops the ball on Elliot's foot. With his help, J-P sends the bowling ball down the lane.

When the pins topple, Lena leaps up and applauds while J-P dances in place. The shadow of a smile appears on Elliot's lips, only to vanish at once. J-P wraps my sister in his arms and kisses her cheek. I melt.

Suddenly, the back of my neck tingles. I look for Elliot and find him watching me.

"What?"

"Nothing," he replies, looking annoyed.

"Mira!" Lena calls. "It's your turn! Hurry up. We only have half an hour left."

I throw my pink bowling ball. It rolls forward before veering toward the gutter. Zero pins.

"Your wrist turns right before you release," Elliot observes from behind me.

"You're suddenly a bowling expert?" I reply, switching to his first name since he's just taken that liberty with me for the first time.

"I was on my college team," he says with a shrug.

His serious tone makes me burst out laughing. When I calm down, I find Elliot even more guarded than before.

"What?"

"Nothing. Forget it."

He turns on his heel and goes to sit beside J-P.

Oh no! Was he serious? I didn't even know college bowling teams existed. My stomach twists. The thought that I embarrassed him sets my cheeks on fire.

What if he really was trying to help me?