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ChapterNineteen
TESS
I never found out why Spencer couldn’t sleep last night, and now he’s not texting me back.
Rude.
Also, my chair in the camp office is the swiveling kind, so every time I fidget, my knee bangs the desk.
Ruder.
Anyway, I know Spencer’s not one to flaunt company policy and use his phone while he’s at the reference desk. But it’s been hours. The guy should’ve had a ten minute break by now. And you’d think he’d be anxious to thank me for being the kind of friend who intervenes when herotherfriend is too shy to make moves.
I helped Jill when she’d been pining after Owen O’Dell for a zillion years. And look at her now! She’s happy as a clam. More accurately, she and Owen are twin pearls inside the same clam. Their love story is about as perfect an outcome as anyone could’ve hoped for. Now I just want to help Spencer and Kayla find their happily ever after too.
Is that so much to ask?
We all knowhewas never going to make the first move. So I took some steps. Not major ones. We aren’t in middle school in the 80s. I didn’t pass Kayla a folded-up note asking, “Do you like Spencer Crane? Circle YES or NO.” My call to her was merely a push in the direction they were already headed. More like a gentle nudge, really.
Barely a tap.
I simply asked if Kayla had plans Saturday night. And guess what. She did not. So I invited her to the camp’s movie night. Then I told Spencer to wear his blue shirt. The guy has no idea what looks good on him. That shirt?
Good.
The way it accentuates the lean muscles of his arms. The spread of his shoulders. The tapering of the waist along his washboard stom—
Bang. Knee. Desk.
Rudest.
And okay, yes. There might be one teensy tiny other thing that’s got my insides twisted. I sort of suggested to Spencer that Kayla is into him. And bysort of suggested,I mean I texted himKayla is into you. In those exact words. But that’s only because I’m positive she is. Into him.
What single, reliable, steady librarian in her right mind wouldn’t be?
She and Spencer are both into research. And reference books. And periodicals. And community programs. They’re carbon copies of each other—with all the dark hair and the sparkly eyes. Kayla is perfect for Spencer and vice versa. But they’re too into their spreadsheets and their master’s degrees and their quote unquotework responsibilitiesto see the writing on the wall.
If it were in Sanskrit, they’d probably notice.
My point is this: Spencer’s too humble to tell Kayla he likes her, and Kayla’s too humble to notice he does, so I volunteered to be their fairy godmother.
Tess McCoy. Professional matchmaker. After Jill and Owen, I’m already batting a thousand. Just don’t tell Mac about my new hobby, or he’ll tease me about jumping ship to another job again. Heh heh heh.
Bang. Knee. Desk.
Ouch.
But too bad, Mac. I can’t help it. I’m just too good at this. Almost as good as I am at camp. Sowhyhasn’t Spencer acknowledged me yet?
All I need is a littleThat was awesome, Tess. Thanks so much for being you.
Why, not at all, friend. You’re quite welcome.
No, really. Thank you for unearthing Kayla’s true feelings and offering sage clothing advice. I’ll definitely wear blue on Saturday, and maybe when I get to camp tonight too.
Oh.
That reminds me.
