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“Painting,” Brody says, poking his head into the room with a grin. “Jack’s a really good artist. Better than he lets on, for sure.”

Mia’s eyes widen with surprise. She hadn’t expected that, I can tell. “You paint?” she asks, genuinely curious now, her earlier judgment softened by this new piece of information.

I nod, leaning back into the couch. “Yeah. It’s not something I really talk about. It’s just something I do when I want to clear my head.”

Mia stares at me for a moment, like she’s processing it. Maybe, just maybe, she’s seeing something in me that doesn’t fit with her image of the cocky actor. I don’t know if I care, but it feels good to let her in. Even if just a little.

She doesn’t push the topic of painting any further, but I can see her curiosity shift in another direction. She’s trying to figure me out, and I can’t blame her. I’ve been a puzzle for as long as I can remember.

“So,” she asks, her voice a little quieter now, “what kind of woman would you want to date? Someone in the industry, or…?”

I don’t even have to think about it. “The most ordinary woman you could ever meet,” I say bluntly. “Someone who doesn’t care about the spotlight. Someone who can’t be bothered by all the noise. Someone like you.”

I don’t want someone who’ll play the same game I’ve been forced to play all these years. I want someone who… gets it. Someone who can be herself without all the pressure.

Mia’s quiet for a long moment. I can almost feel her trying to sort through what I just said, like she’s not sure whether to be insulted or flattered. I didn’t mean to offend her, but that’s the thing about Mia. I don’t know where to stand with her. Should I apologize, or should I keep going?

“You want someone ordinary,” she repeats, the words sounding different when she says them.

I don’t know why I feel a little guilty. I should’ve expected her to feel that way, but I hadn’t thought about it in those terms. Mia isn’t “ordinary” by any stretch of the imagination. She’s extraordinary in her own way. But maybe that’s exactly why I said it. I don’t need someone who mirrors my world of cameras and attention. I need someone grounded.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Jack.” She rises to her feet. “I think I have enough.”

“You’re leaving?” I stupidly ask.

“Yeah.” She waves. “I’ll have someone return your shirt.”

Someone? I watch her go, and something tightens in my chest. Does that mean she won’t be returning anytime soon? I don’t know if I’ve said too much or not enough, but I do know one thing: Mia is getting under my skin in ways I didn’t expect.

MIA

Iwalk briskly out the front door, my steps quick, my mind racing. Jack’s words echo in my head like a broken record—ordinary. Should I be hurt by that? A small part of me definitely is. But there’s another part of me that didn’t want to be seen as just another one of his city girls he could dismiss with a glance.

There was a look in his eyes when he said it. That moment of vulnerability, of something unguarded flickering beneath the surface. It was like… he meant it, but not in the way I thought. He said it like a compliment. Like I didn’t have to be someone I’m not. Like he saw me, really saw me, for the first time. I hate how much I want to let that thought settle in my chest.

Ordinary.

Ugh, I hate that I was thinking about it. I have work to do. I shouldn’t care about what Jack Calloway thinks. I shouldn’t care about him at all.

I force my focus to shift.Focus on the task at hand. He’s not the priority here. Matchmaking, Mia. That’s what you came here for.

As I leave Jack’s cottage, I notice the car parked just outside, shiny and sleek. It’s a rental—the one I asked Emma to provide, so Jack and Brody can move around town easily. I decide to borrow it for a short while. Maybe I can take it back to the flower shop and have someone return it later. I could use the drive to clear my head.

I slide into the car, the leather seat cool beneath me. The engine purrs to life with a soft hum. I put it in drive and pull away from Jack’s cottage, my hands gripping the wheel with unnecessary force.

As I drive, my thoughts drift back to the conversation. I keep running over it in my head, trying to figure out if I’m reading too much into this. The fact that he wants an ordinary girl is surprising, especially since I know his dating history—thank you, Emma—and none of his numerous exes were ordinary.

Is Nova right about him being ready for a change?

By the time I get to the flower shop, I’m in a much better headspace. It’s familiar here. It’s where I feel like myself. I slide out of the car and make my way toward the door, my thoughts briefly clouded by the weight of the morning.

The bell above the door jingles as I step inside. Emma’s already there, humming along to the soft music playing in the background. You’d think she owns the shop. She glances up at me as I walk in, a smile pulling at her lips.

“Hey, Mia! How’d it go with Jack and Brody? Everything okay?” she asks, looking genuinely concerned. “Are they fully settled?”

I nod, forcing a smile. “Yeah, everything went fine. They’re both settled in. Ugh, I missed this place.”

Emma rolls her eyes as I slide onto the next stool. “You needed the break.”