The Soulmate Equation by Christina Lauren

SEVEN

BRIGHT AND EARLY Monday morning, Fizzy walked into Twiggs. She marched to their usual table, set her laptop down, and even though she’d been told what she would see, still did a double take at Jess standing behind the counter.

“This new situation,” Fizzy said, dropping her purse onto her chair, “is going to take some getting used to.”

Jess smiled, swiping a cloth across the counter before pointing to a steaming vanilla latte at the end of the bar. “If it sucks, lie to me.”

Fizzy leaned an elbow on the counter and picked up the cup. “I feel like I should have made you a little boxed lunch or something. How’s your first day?”

“The steamer is terrifying, and I didn’t have the lid on the blender all the way during the morning rush, but not too bad.”

Fizzy blew across the top of her drink and tasted it. Her brows lifted in surprised approval.

“I guess third time really is a charm,” Jess said.

Fizzy looked around the quiet coffee shop. “Is this where we stand and gossip from now on?”

From where he was wiping tables, Daniel uttered a simple “No,” but Fizzy ignored him, leaning in closer.

“Listen, Jess, I know you want to think this compatibility score thing is bullshit, but Ralph was good. What I’m saying is, if I graphed these compatibility scores relative to my sexual satisfaction, like you nerds might, there would be a definite up-slope to the line.”

It took a beat for Jess to connect the dots before she remembered Ralph, the Silver Match. Unease was an index finger jabbing her shoulder, whispering, Don’t ask. But curiosity overruled discomfort. With a guilty glance at Daniel over Fizzy’s shoulder, she stepped farther down the bar to get some privacy. “Oh yeah?”

Fizzy followed on the other side of the counter. “We had dinner at Bali Hai.”

Jess hummed enviously.

“He was super easy to talk to. We each probably had one too many mai tais, but it wasn’t a problem because we both took Lyfts there and shared a Lyft home …” Fizzy grinned. “Incidentally, he has a cute place in PB.”

An unexpected kernel of angst pinged Jess’s lungs, and she cleared it with a cough and started wiping the bar in front of her. “So, more compatible than with Aiden or Antonio?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Do you think you’ll see him again?”

“Unfortunately, I get the sense that he’s too busy to really get serious with anyone.” Fizzy frowned. “Why would he sign up for the DNADuo during their soft launch if he just wanted to mess around?”

Laughing, Jess said, “I think I remember asking you that exact question only a handful of days ago. Look at you, ready to commit after a single night of mai tais and good sex.”

From nowhere, Daniel materialized, tapping Jess’s shoulder and pointing to the cash register. “You have a customer.”

“Oops, sorry.” She swatted after him with her cleaning cloth. Jess jogged the few feet to the register before looking up into the gorgeous yet despicable face of none other than Dr. River Peña.

In fairness, Jess shouldn’t have been surprised; if she’d looked at the clock, she would have known that it was 8:24 and River was right on time. But somehow her brain had dropped the ball on reminding her that she might actually have to wait on him during her very first shift as a Twiggs barista. And this was the first time she was seeing him after their non-goodbye at the curb four days ago. Although Jess didn’t expect to exhale actual fire the next time they came face-to-face, she couldn’t account for the transfusion of warmth that hit her bloodstream, either. For a few seconds, she stared dumbly up at him, clocking the same shock in his expression.

He broke his stunned gaze from hers to look down the counter at Daniel, standing behind the La Marzocco. Then, with that trademark unhurried way of his, River looked at Jess again. “What are you doing back there?” His eyes took a leisurely perusal down the length of her body. “In an apron?”

“Oh, right.” She gave an awkward curtsy. “I work here now.” When he didn’t say anything else, she offered an artificially perky “What can I get for you, sir?”

He frowned, and his dark brows came together; glimmering bright eyes regarded her with skepticism. “You work here? Since when? I thought you worked for …” He glanced over to the table where Fizzy now sat alone, watching them hawkishly. Jess raised an eyebrow in amusement as he turned back to her and seemed to be putting the puzzle together in his head. Finally, he managed only, “I thought you worked … somewhere else.”

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 UPto 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.”

Fizzy’s interest was piqued. “Did you go out with her?”

“I did,” he said. “It was good, but I think we both had this weird expectation that it was nice but statistically unlikely to go anywhere?”

“I did wonder about that aspect,” Fizzy said. “I went out with a Silver the other day but, like, if you get anything lower than a Gold, do you just assume it’s most likely not going to work?”

“Even though,” Jess cut in quietly, “if you believe their data, the odds are significantly better of finding a lasting relationship with a Silver than with regular dating …”

Fizzy gaped at her. “Says the woman who won’t believe her own score.”

“What was it?” Daniel asked again.

Jess laughed. “It doesn’t matter. Fizzy’s right. I don’t believe it.” She wiped her hands on her apron and looked at Daniel. “What’s next, boss? Dishes? Restocking?”

He lifted his chin, undeterred. “Was it a Base Match?”

Fizzy looked at her, one eyebrow pointed sharply skyward. “Yeah, Jess. Was it a Base Match?”

Jess slid a patient look to her friend. “Are you being a pot-stirrer?”

“Guilty.”

Daniel turned to Fizzy, who in turn gave Jess a look that either sought permission or delivered a warning.

Warning, apparently, because a few seconds later, Fizzy said, “It was a Diamond.”

Jess expected him to explode: How can you ignore that? and If I had a Diamond Match, I’d quit my job and get laid all day long! But just as Fizzy had when Jess told her, Daniel studied Jess very quietly and very intently.

“You’re not curious?” he asked, at length.

“No.”

Daniel seemed to be trying to wrap his head around this. “Is River?”

Jess shrugged. “Who knows? We haven’t really talked since we found out a few days ago.”

“So, you’re going to, what? Do nothing?”

She nodded at Daniel. “That’s the plan.”

Fizzy rolled her eyes and repeated with an exasperated edge: “That’s the plan. The boring, safe plan.”

Jess gave her friend a look of warning. It wasn’t that Fizzy was wrong, per se, but Jess had more to think about than just herself. She couldn’t throw caution to the wind. That was a luxury childless people had, people with free time and fewer responsibilities. Boring, safe plans hadn’t steered her wrong yet.