Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97780 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97780 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Inwardly, she groaned. Why wasn’t he just ordering, paying, and stepping to the side to stare at his phone? Had he forgotten that he was too busy to converse with plebeians?
“I’m a freelance statistician,” she said, maintaining the polite smile. “But I lost a big account the other day. Given that I have a kid and lots of bills …” She held her arms out to say, Voilà.
Jess would gladly take sixteen hours a week at minimum wage and the hit to the pride from serving River Peña if it meant Juno could keep taking ballet with Ms. Mia.
Without subtlety, River’s eyes darted down to her left hand. Was she imagining the way his brow relaxed? Had he been looking for a wedding band?
“One kid,” she confirmed quietly, “no husband.” For a brief second, she let herself be amused by this potential scenario. “Wow, that would have been an awkward press release for GeneticAlly: ‘Founder’s Soulmate Is Already Married.’”
“Married people tend to not submit DNA samples,” River replied with an amused twinkle in his eye. “And I hear they prefer to cheat using apps with fewer intake forms.”
Self-preservation welled up hot in her throat, and she could see the twin realization pass through him: this exchange felt suspiciously like nerdy flirting.
“What can I get for you?” Jess asked again.
His expression shuttered. “Sorry, I would have—” He held her gaze and the contact felt like a swarm of bees in her chest. “I thought you called me ‘Americano’ the other day,” he said.
Holy duh, Jessica.
Scribbling the drink order on a cup, she moved to hand it to Daniel, who gave her a blank look. “I already got it, Jess.”
Of course he had. Daniel smiled apologetically on behalf of his new employee, handing the drink to River. Silence fell as they watched her struggle to find the correct entry for Americano on the screen.
“It’s under espresso drinks,” Daniel prompted quietly.
River, hulking, leaned over to peer upside down at the screen. “It’s over on the—”
His finger landed on the touch screen just as Jess’s did, their hands briefly coming together.
“I got it,” she said, humiliated. He pulled away, and she tapped the button, flustered by the contact that she could somehow feel all the way up her arm. No doubt her cheeks looked like she’d been slapped. “That’ll be three eighty-five.”
He hesitated, and Jess realized her mistake. She upsized to large. “Sorry. Four seventy-four.”
Their shared discomfort shoved between them, a loud, uninvited guest at the awkward party for two. Jess took his money, counted out his change. But what really wrecked her was that, after the tiniest hesitation, he dropped all of it—including the five-dollar bill—into the tip jar.
FIZZY SIDLED UP to the counter fifteen minutes later when she seemed to assess Jess was done being mortified.
“Hey.” She offered a little best-friend-simpatico smile and reached across the counter to offer a fist bump.
“Hey.” Jess cleared her throat, meeting Fizzy’s knuckles. “I bet an ending like that never made it into a romance novel.”
Fizzy laughed. “Are you kidding? That would be the start of an amazing love story.”
“Not my story.”
Jess felt her best friend studying her while she pretended to be very engrossed in rearranging the pastry case. Fizzy had been uncharacteristically mum on the subject of River. After hearing of their DNADuo result, the rundown on the disastrous GeneticAlly meeting, and Jess’s theory that the statistics were completely bogus and most likely invalidated their entire business plan, Fizzy had stared at her in silence for a few beats before saying only “I get it.”
“You okay?” she asked now.
Daniel decided this moment was a good one to join the conversation, setting two sealed bags of beans down at the espresso bar. He frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Jess mumbled just as Fizzy practically shouted, “Did you not see that awkward run-in with Americano?”
“Why was it awkward?” Daniel took a beat to recollect, then said, “Oh, about the drink? Eh, don’t worry about that. It’s your first day.”
“No, Dan,” Fizzy said, exasperated with him for no good reason. “Because they matched.”
It felt like the entire coffee shop went silent in response.
Jess groaned. “Fizzy, I swear to God, I will barehand—”
“What level?” Daniel asked.
“What do you mean ‘what level’?” Jess gaped at him.
He ripped open a bag of espresso beans and poured it into the machine. “If we’re talking about DNADuo, I was one of the original samples,” he said proudly. “Back in my days at SDSU. When they were still taking … samples.”
It took a second for that to sink in, and when it did, all a blushing Jess could manage was a quiet “Gross, Dan.”
“I meant blood.”
“Didn’t sound like you meant blood.”
“Anyway, I did it again about a year and a half ago when they put out the call for people to help validate their spit kit.” He pulled his phone from his back pocket and showed them the screen like they might see a thread of matches lined up there. “But I’ve never gotten anything above a thirty-seven.”