wouldn’t betray his emotions. She was right about the man who’d saved him. He wouldn’t have quit.
But before he could speak, Kayleigh’s drink appeared.
“Are you two ready to order?” snapped a heavyset older woman. He must have scared off the other girl. The one who’d been ready to serve him lunch on a gurney. Well, good. He’d rather be treated this way than have a pity party he didn’t deserve.
When Kayleigh turned her head, his gaze ran over her delicate profile and the slight jut of her dimpled chin. She looked soft and vulnerable, and the desire to help this girl who’d lost her brother leaped in his chest. But he doused the thought and sipped more water.
Kayleigh smiled at the waitress. “I’ll have the Five Leaves burger with gruyere cheese and bacon and a side of truffle fries. Oh, and could the cooks whip up some aioli sauce, please? A chef here made it for me once before. It’s just garlic, olive oil, lemon juice and egg yolks. Maybe add a little mustard to spice it up? But the Dijon kind, not yellow. If it’s yellow, then forget it. Please.”
The older woman blinked at Kayleigh, then shook her head and wrote down the order. He held in a laugh. Her habit of demanding outrageous, off-menu items hadn’t changed. At camp, she’d begged the cooks to make dim sum, offer hummus as a daily side and add Cajun spice to the sour cream on taco days. In college, she’d demanded gravy and cheese with her fries after having the dish on a trip to Canada. The cafeteria workers had scrambled out of the way whenever she’d headed down the food line.
The server finished scribbling then turned his way, her expression hostile. “And you?”
“The plain burger, medium-rare, and a side salad.”
“Coming up.” The waitress grabbed their menus without refilling Niall’s glass and marched away.
“Friendly,” he drawled. “She’d be a shoo-in for Miss Congeniality.”
Kayleigh’s laugh spilled from her like a shower of silver coins. “You’re terrible.” She took a sip of her drink, then another and another until half of it disappeared before she set it down. Wow. He’d nearly forgotten Kayleigh’s ferocious appetite, and thirst, always a shock given her petite frame.
She pointed her straw at him. “I mean it. And you probably scared our first waitress out of her station.”
“If you can’t take the heat, stay in the kitchen.”
Kayleigh rolled her eyes. “We’ll apologize when we go and leave her a separate tip for taking our drink order.”
He warmed to her, the familiar tendrils of their old friendship drawing him closer. But he forced himself to stay guarded. “Fine. We’ll leave the tip. MaryAnne mentioned that you’d left your job and—” His voice dropped away as he studied her bare left hand. Another man had put a ring there. Strange how much that irritated him.
“Yes.” Kayleigh cut into the awkward silence, her face glum. “I’ve been interviewing and making cold calls for weeks, but so far, nothing.”
“But you’ve been a software designer for the top app producer in the country. Genesis Software Innovations, right?” His fingers swiped through the condensation on his glass. “You’re a top candidate.”
When she banged down her drink, the fluid sloshed up the sides of the glass. “My ex-fiancé, Brett, is spreading the word that I’m trouble in the workplace. He was my boss.”
“He blames you for the breakup?” Niall pictured finding the jerk and beating some sense into him. Not that it was any of his business, but old habits die hard.
Her eyes narrowed. “Yes. Though he’s the one who cheated.”
He sucked in a harsh breath. “What an idiot. He lost the best thing he ever had.”
A slow smile dawned and stole his breath. “Thank you, Niall.” Then she sobered. “But we weren’t compatible. Do you remember those lists we made at camp after my mother called about the divorce? We called them Must Traits, all the traits our partner must have in order to be compatible.”
His heart skittered sideways. “Yes,” he responded, remembering that evening by the lake, the night he hadn’t wanted to end.
“If I’d used it with Brett, I never would have dated him in the first place. You know how honesty is in my top-five Must Traits for the perfect match? Well, Brett cheated at cards. That should have been a red flag. And he bypassed me for leadership positions...and being supportive is—”
“Number three,” Niall broke in, recalling her list. All fifty items on it.
She pointed her straw at him, her eyes alight. “Yes! And being open is number one. Brett kept secrets from me, the ultimate deal-breaker.”
Niall’s gaze dropped from hers, and he battled the urge to blurt the truth about Chris. How much longer could he be around Kayleigh and not tell her what had happened? Orders or not?
“You know—” she tapped her fingernails against the side of her drink “—that would actually make a pretty good app.”
“What would?” His mind was still in Kunar.
“The Must Traits list. What if it was an app that users could personalize? Wouldn’t it be great if there was a program to create a compatibility score based on how many Must Traits you have in common with someone else?” Her voice rose in excitement. “Think about the heartache it would save people. How it would prevent them from wasting time on the wrong person like I did.”
He glanced up and found himself unable to look away from her sparkling eyes. “Aren’t there products like that already on the market?”
She shook her head. “I’ve seen features like that attached to dating websites, but no mobile versions.”
“When you find your next job, you should pitch it.”
“I’m starting to think that’s never going to happen.” She stared at the table for a moment, then looked up suddenly. “What if I created my own start-up company to produce it?”
He was shaking his head before she finished her question, surprised. Kayleigh had always played it safe. Why the sudden shift? This new version of his predictable friend unsettled him.
“You don’t want that risk. Three out of four start-ups fail. Besides, who would you get to invest, write the program?” He raised his glass for another drink, then lowered it at her prolonged silence.
He met her eyes, took in her measured look and shook his head. “No, Kayleigh. Not me. I’ve got other contracts.”
She leaned forward, and the familiar smell of her, something light and floral, curled beneath his nose. “I’m not offering you a contract. We could be partners. A team, like the old days. Except I’d keep majority control.”
“Have it all. I’m not the right guy for this. You’d need someone to help charm investors, schmooze at marketing events, give statements to the press and most of all, believe in this dating app. That’s not me.”
“But it used to be....” Her softly spoken words gutted him. Yes. He had been
