“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 that guy once. But the events in Kunar had made working in the civilian world impossible. Especially with her.
Kayleigh crossed her legs, her features sharp with growing excitement. “Hear me out. It wouldn’t be a dating app. It would allow people to input their own Must Traits lists and then synchronize it to others’ lists to get a compatibility score. You aren’t trying to meet people with it, just sorting out the good matches from the bad ones when you do meet someone. That way you have a better chance of starting a relationship with someone who’s perfect for you.”
“No one’s perfect, Kayleigh,” he muttered, feeling a phantom ache where his left calf had been.
Her lips pursed. “No. But there’s someone who’s exactly right out there for everyone. This app will make it easier to find that person and reveal the truth about what each wants right away. No secrets.” He caught a pained expression in her eyes before she lowered her lids and sipped her soda.
After setting down her glass, she continued, “Dating websites and similar products are market pleasers.” Her hand fell on his, and he jumped at the electric sensation. “We could create a viable business while providing a great service—reducing the number of broken hearts, maybe even lowering divorce rates.”
He wondered how much of this had to do with her parents. “It’s not that cut and dried. You’re being idealistic and simplistic. A product like this is a long shot in a market full of ways to get singles together.”
She snatched her hand away as if she’d touched a snake.
“I’ve been working in product development and app conception for over seven years in a Fortune 500 company. I know what the market will support. Besides, this isn’t about getting people together. It’s about ensuring that their relationship will last.”
“Based on a checklist?” Surely she knew that there was more to love than that. He hadn’t been successful in relationships, but his parents had shown him it was possible. Marriage took work, compromise and understanding, not an app with boxes to check off.
“You made a list that weekend at camp. You believed in it then, even though you never showed me what you wrote.”
“There were reasons.” He stopped himself from saying more. That was long ago, a different time. A different guy—a different him.
“So you didn’t believe in it then either?” She took another drink, her eyes on him.
“I don’t remember,” he lied, and hated himself for it when the color faded from her cheeks. But he had to be firm. Not give her any false hope.
The server arrived, dumping their plates in front of them before stalking away.
“This isn’t what I ordered.” He contemplated the runny egg oozing out of the sides of an oversize burger.
“That’s mine. Here.”
They exchanged plates, and he watched with amazement as she lifted a sandwich bigger than her face and chomped on it, her cheeks bulging.
“Aren’t you going to eat yours?” She dipped a clump of fries into a yellow sauce. Amazing how a girl who resembled a music box ballerina could eat like a trucker.
He lifted his burger. “I was, unless you want it, too.”
Her face brightened again and she smiled. His pulse leaped as he took a bite. Despite himself, he couldn’t help enjoying Kayleigh’s company.
But an abyss of secrets and tragedy separated them, and he needed to keep his distance.
When Kayleigh’s empty glass thumped to the tabletop, he hailed their passing waitress. “Another drink for the lady.” She continued walking as though she hadn’t heard him. “Please.” His raised voice made her pause, and she nodded without turning.
“Thanks. I couldn’t finish this without another one.” Kayleigh gestured to her plate, and with a shock he realized it was half-empty.
“So other than this start-up idea, what options are out there? Do you have more job interviews coming up?” he asked after another bite, hoping to distract her from her crazy idea.
The light in her eyes faded. “None. Even the headhunter I hired is coming up short. If no one else will take a chance on me, then maybe I should take a chance on myself. And you should, too. We were good together.”
He nodded, then caught himself. “It isn’t realistic in an uncertain economy. You have to think rationally...look before you leap.”
She gnashed on her burger, chewing with vengeance. When she swallowed, she said, “That’s exactly what Brett would say. And I’m done with playing it safe. It’s gotten me nowhere. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced. I want to investigate this further. Give it a try. What do you say?”
He met her hopeful eyes and shook his head, hating the disappointment that made her mouth droop and her eyes dim. “I’m sorry. My best advice is to stay away from a sure fail.”
She dropped her fry and hoisted her purse. He wished he could take back that blunt statement, but he owed her the truth. He’d promised MaryAnne he’d help Kayleigh, and that meant saving her from her worst instincts.
“You’re wrong.” She fidgeted with the zipper on her pocketbook. “You may not believe in me—yet. But I’ll change your mind. Give me a couple of days to draw up a business plan, and let’s meet again to discuss it.”
His mind raced over the impossible proposition. He could write the code, but the idea was flawed and lacked nuance. Kayleigh had grown up, but his earlier assessment was wrong—she hadn’t matured from the girl who’d listed big-dog lover or chopsticks expert on her