Table for Two. Jennifer McKenzie

start every morning. Mal shook off that tangent. She’d return the ring to Travis later. Soon. It was nothing she needed to share with Angela. It would only give her the wrong impression. “And then we didn’t.”

      “How long ago did things end?”

      Some of Mal’s tension eased at Angela’s straightforward and neutral tone. She didn’t seem to think it was such a big deal. Maybe she was right. “A little over a year.”

      “And are you still in contact?”

      “No.” Mal shook her head. “I have no interest in seeing or talking to him.” She didn’t. The conversation at the wedding reception had been more than enough.

      Angela did pick up the notebook now. “Tell me about your closest friends.”

      When Mal left the matchmaker forty minutes later, she felt both tired and exhilarated. Much the way she felt after a great Pilates session. Only less sweaty and better dressed.

      Angela had stated that she thought there would be no problem in making a match and she would be in touch shortly. Mal didn’t want to get her hopes up, but they were slowly climbing toward the sky.

      A date. A real live date. Even just the idea of a night out with someone other than her family was enough to perk her up. Evidence that she really had let her hurt feelings linger far too long.

      But now? Now things would be different.

      She pulled the collar of her coat more tightly around her neck as a swift breeze swept off the water, but even the chilly air couldn’t dampen her spirits.

      * * *

      AFTER SOME SCHEDULING, all done through Angela, who even set up the dinner reservation, Mal’s date was set.

      Josh. Mal rolled the name around in her head as she finished getting ready, spritzing on perfume and running a brush through her hair. It was a good first name. A solid first name. The name of a man who could be relied on to come home when he said he would, return phone calls and not have another woman’s legs wrapped around his head. It was also one of the few things Mal knew about her date tonight.

      VMS didn’t share full names of their clients. They didn’t share jobs, neighborhood of residence or anything else that might make it possible for someone to discover personal details, either.

      Besides his name, all Mal knew about Josh was that he was six feet tall, dark haired with gray eyes, had an athletic build and would be wearing a pale green shirt. All sounded promising.

      She was meeting Josh at Chambar, a Belgian restaurant located in the gentrified Gastown neighborhood and known for its mussels. The restaurant was preselected by VMS, and Mal suspected it was halfway between both of their residences or workplaces. The taxi service called just as she was finishing getting ready to let her know her car would be there in one minute. She slipped into a coat and headed down to the lobby.

      VMS advised clients not to share anything too revealing with their dates, including last names and work locations. With so much personal information available to anyone who could use a computer, it was far too easy for a person to get in touch when touch wasn’t wanted.

      Mal hoped it was wanted tonight. She wore a fitted knee-length dress in dark red, the color of a rich cabernet. The material was textured with small ripples inviting touch. She’d paired the dress with simple black heels and a black leather peplum jacket with suede panels on the bodice. The jacket dressed down the outfit, taking it from slightly formal to urban cool. Finished off with a gold three-tier necklace made of thick chains, she thought it displayed a note of badassery, as well. That she wasn’t the type of woman who would be easily taken advantage of. Not the type of woman who put up with bad behavior.

      Plus, it looked really cool. It was an outfit that should net a second date on its own, even if she wasn’t completely charming and fun, which she would be.

      Of course, there were no guarantees of a second date. No guarantees of anything. Not even the exchange of full names and phone numbers. Tomorrow, Mal would receive a phone call from Angela to discuss the date. Was she happy with the match? Was she interested in seeing Josh again? Would she like Josh to have her number? Mal hoped the answers to all questions would be yes. Or, at least, maybe.

      The familiar sign of the restaurant glowed as they turned onto the street and Mal’s stomach tightened. She shoved down the worried thoughts that attempted to rise and smoothed her skirt.

      She hadn’t been on a date in four years. What if it wasn’t like riding a bike? Well, she might be in trouble. But she refused to think about that or the reason for her long dry spell. She would focus on the positive, on the promise of a future. Maybe her future was waiting in the restaurant.

      Her stomach knotted again, but this time with anticipation as much as nerves. She stepped out of the cab into the cool April night and prepared to meet her destiny.

      At worst, she was in for an excellent bowl of mussels.

      * * *

      THE MUSSELS WERE excellent, as was the company.

      Mal laughed as Josh finished his ridiculous story about how he’d spent his Sunday. It had started with waking up at four and going on a run to the Seawall, then whipping up a gourmet breakfast, kayaking, climbing the Grind—the long and winding trail up Grouse Mountain—paddle boarding, shopping at Granville Island Market, seeing a local band at a club, visiting a food cart, traversing the Capilano Suspension Bridge, holding a dinner party for twelve and finally finishing the crossword puzzle. In ink.

      “All right, you got me. I actually believed you for a minute. Right up until the crossword puzzle.”

      Josh laughed, too. He had a nice laugh, a nice smile. “Ink was taking it too far? Would you have gone for it if I’d said pencil?”

      “Absolutely.” She appreciated his humor. It made her feel more relaxed and made it easier to share her own stories. “Just like I’m sure you buy that I spent Sunday riding the Sea to Sky Gondola, eating dim sum, checking out an indie flick at 5th Ave, completing a mini-tri, meeting friends for beer on a heated patio and finishing the crossword puzzle. In ink.”

      Josh’s already big grin widened. “I see what you mean about the ink part. Makes the whole thing unbelievable.”

      “Exactly.” Mal nodded. She was enjoying the banter. In fact, there had been quite a number of enjoyable moments this evening and they’d only just finished dinner. Mal still had half a glass of wine in front of her, Josh had three-quarters of a beer.

      “So, tell me.” Josh leaned forward and reached for her hand. His fingers were warm as they curled around hers. “What did you really do on Sunday?”

      Mal resisted the urge to pull her hand free. She was doing nothing wrong. Hadn’t she wanted touch? And Josh was polite and funny and very good-looking. It wasn’t inappropriate to hold hands in a public setting, and she reminded herself that it only felt odd because she was out of practice. There was only one way to fix that. She curved her fingers around his. “I went to Pilates in the morning, did a bit of work and had dinner with my family.”

      “Was there beer and a heated patio?”

      “No. But there was a view of my parents’ garden and wine paired with dinner.”

      “Fancy. Consider me duly impressed by your knowledge of wine.” A dimple twinkled in his cheek. “I’d bow to your superior knowledge, but then I’d have to let go of your hand.”

      “Right.” Which made the whole hand-holding feel horribly awkward and made Mallory self-conscious. It was all she could do not to rip her fingers free. She settled for giving him a gentle squeeze and then picked up her wineglass, so it wasn’t as though she didn’t want to touch him, she was merely thirsty. But she was careful to put her hand in her lap and out of holding range once she let go of the glass.

      Still, she was having a nice time and resolved to continue doing so. Josh appeared to be everything she was looking for. He told her he was a lawyer, though she