Noah says stopping for strangers is an unfair advantage on a blind date.
Claire smiled.
She replied:
Tell Noah I agree.
Three dots appeared.
He also wants to know if you’re rich.
Claire laughed aloud.
What did you say?
I told him that’s rude.
Pause.
Then he googled you.
Claire covered her face.
And?
He says I should wear a better shirt next time.
Claire stared at the screen.
Next time.
She replied:
He sounds intelligent.
Daniel:
Dangerously.
Then:
Dinner Friday? No parental interference. Preferably no mechanical emergencies.
Claire waited deliberately thirty seconds.
Then:
Yes.
That should have been the end of the mystery.
Instead, Monday morning Claire called Paige.
Her friend answered:
“So?”
Claire said nothing.
Paige waited.
“So?”
“You manipulative psychopath.”
Paige screamed.
“You liked him!”
“How much did you know?”
Silence.
Claire’s tone changed.
“Paige.”
“Okay.”
“How much?”
“My father told me your dad and Michael Mercer were friends.”
“When?”
“Years ago.”
“How many?”
“After your dad died.”
Claire sat straighter.
“And?”
“He said Robert always thought Daniel was a good man.”
“That’s it?”
“Mostly.”
“Mostly.”
Paige sighed.
“Your father gave mine a letter.”
Claire’s stomach tightened.
“What letter?”
“For me.”
“When?”
“To open after you turned thirty.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“What did it say?”
“That if you were single and miserable at thirty, I had permission to interfere.”
Claire started laughing despite anger.
“He wrote that?”
“Exact phrase: ‘Interfere carefully.’”
“That hypocrite.”
“He knew you.”
“How did Renee enter the picture?”
“Social media.”
“Explain.”
“I found Michael Mercer’s obituary.”
“Daniel was listed.”
“I found the garage.”
“Then Renee’s profile.”
“I messaged her.”
Claire stared at nothing.
“You cold-contacted his sister?”
“Yes.”
“What did you say?”
“Hi, our dead fathers may have wanted your brother to date my best friend.”
Claire laughed so hard she had to put the phone down.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“She thought I was insane.”
“Correct.”
“Then I sent the letter.”
Claire wiped her eyes.
“And she agreed?”
“Not immediately.”
“How long?”
“Two months.”
“Two months?”
“She ran a background check on you.”
Claire stopped laughing.
“She did what?”