Rebound Envy (Rebound #2) Read Free

checking him out and gives me a knowing smile as he sits down.  
    While I know I'm not unfortunate looking, next to him I feel frumpy and drab, despite my curve hugging sweater dress, leggings, and heeled ankle boots. He's just so perfect looking. It shouldn't even be allowed.
    "Beth will be your server tonight. She'll be with you in a moment," the hostess informs us before walking away. It's a nice restaurant—small and intimate, with white tablecloths and low lighting. There's soft music playing in the background, not quite overpowered by the low hum of conversation from the other diners. It's not too crowded on a Wednesday evening, which means we should be able to hear each other easily.
    The first part of the evening is taken up by looking over the menu and placing our orders. Once the waitress has come and gone, our ongoing silence is beginning to feel awkward. I cast about for some topic of conversation.
    "It's pretty cold out this week." The weather. That's all I can come up with.
    Scott nods. "Yeah. I heard it's supposed to be even colder next week."
    "I heard that too. Brrr." Usually there's a bit of a thaw in mid-January in the Inland Northwest. Not this year, though. We had a bunch of snow in December, and now it's just cold.
    Scott nods again. I take a drink of my wine to fill the silence and give me a chance to think of something more interesting that will take longer than two seconds to talk about.
    "Jenna said that you just started a couple months ago?" Work. That's always safe, right?  
    He nods, taking a drink from his own glass of wine. "Mmhmm."  
    Try an open ended question. "How are you liking it so far?"
    "It's good. I like the group I'm working with. I like numbers and it's interesting to do bookkeeping for lots of different companies."
    "Does it ever get confusing working with so many different people?"
    He shakes his head. "No. I have an organizational system in place so that I don't get things mixed up. I only work on one company at a time, and keep everything meticulously separated. I actually suggested my system to the manager of our office so that everyone can use it and increase our office's productivity."
    I smile at that. "Wow. Good for you." Jenna was talking about the new system that her boss was forcing everyone to use. She wasn't quite as impressed with it as Scott seems to be. I wonder if she realizes he's the one behind that change. "Did you work as a contract bookkeeper at your last job?"
    "No. I was a bookkeeper for a large textile manufacturing company. They had a lot of clients, both domestic and international. That's where I developed my system. It transferred over quite easily."
    "Oh, how nice." I'm saved from further discussion of his exceptional organizational system by the arrival of our food.
    Conversation lags while we eat. I really don't want to talk about his job anymore. Bookkeeping just isn't that interesting of a conversation topic. I love Jenna to death, but I can't even handle talking about her work with her for very long. Except for the stories she tells me about her clients and coworkers. Those are funny. And stories about people have always interested me. When she gets into detailed explanations of her actual work, though, my eyes tend to glaze over and I'm reduced to nodding and smiling.
    "So, Jenna tells me you're a teacher?"
    I nod, swallowing the bite of food in my mouth. "Yes. I teach high school English."  
    He raises his eyebrows. "High school? Wow. I assumed you taught elementary school."
    "Really? No. I could never do elementary school. Don't get me wrong—I love kids of all ages, but I prefer the ones who can tie their own shoes and don't need help going to the bathroom."
    "Do you handle all four years of high school, or just a couple?"  
    Wow, he's actually asking more about me. Most of our conversations have been focused on him. "Just a couple. I teach junior and senior English. I have a couple AP classes and the rest are regular sections."
    "You must