He shot her a sympathetic glance with a lot of teasing behind it. “Call me when you’re going. If I’ve got a break I’ll come with.”
“Great.”
When Matt was about to leave, Jack piped up. “You never thought about going into the restaurant business too?”
“Nope. The tips helped put me through med school though.”
“Rose went to Stanford, you know,” Daphne said.
Matt’s eyebrows flew up. “Really? You went to Stanford?”
“And had the student loans to prove it.”
Her mother and father had never been the matchmaking types. And now she knew why. They sucked at it.
“She was in the top ten percent of her class. She’s always been very smart and hard working.”
She rolled her gaze. “I also have good eyesight, clear skin and sturdy, child-bearing hips.”
Matt was having trouble not laughing at her and the more he tried not to laugh the more she wanted to hit him.
“You’re not on the auction block, Rose,” her mother protested.
“That’s good, Mom, because I don’t think anyone in this room is looking to buy.”
Matt didn’t linger very long after that. Rose got the feeling that if he stayed much longer he was going to start laughing so hard he’d choke. Maybe with some help from her.
After he left, Daphne said, “What a gorgeous man. Is there something going on with you two?”
“Apart from you pimping me out to him you mean?”
“Oh, as if I’d do that. I felt something between you, that’s all. He is such a refreshing change from your usual choice of man.”
“First, he’s not my man.” She thought for a second about what her mother had said. “And second, he’s exactly like my usual choice of man. He’s successful, good-looking, age-appropriate. He seems exactly like my usual type, apart from a serious lack of personal grooming.”
Daphne and Jack exchanged a glance. Daphne said, “I can’t explain exactly—and don’t take this the wrong way—but with Matt you get the sense of a real person. Your other men have always seemed so . . .”
Jack finished the sentence for her, “Distant.”
“Yeah!” Daphne agreed. “I think I’ve been intimidated by every one of them.”
“Wasn’t one of them royalty?” Jack asked. “A British count or something?”
“No. The Italian was the count. The British guy was merely a Sir.”
“Right,” Jack said. “He was the one who looked at me like I was supposed to curtsy.”
“Oh come on,” Rose said. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Sir Peter Buckingham,” Jack announced sounding pleased with himself. “I remember the name because I figured they named the palace after him.”
“Okay, you two. I have to go to work. Do not try to set me up with anyone else while I’m gone. Understood?”
“Have a good day, honey. Marguerite and I will meet you at your place when you get off work. Then we can walk over to the food trucks. Maybe we should go to Voodoo doughnuts for dessert. I say that every time I come to Portland and I never make it. If we go, we’ll bring you back one, Jack, to celebrate getting out of hospital tomorrow.”
Her mom had moved on to doughnuts. Rose hoped that also meant she was thinking about something other than matchmaking.
* * *
