Page 11 of Without Apology

Again, her brilliant smile confirmed she was sincere when she’d said my question hadn’t bothered her. “I think when people get wrapped up in timing dictating their life, there’s a risk of settling. Two days before calling someone, three dates before sleeping with someone, two years before an expected engagement, married before thirty, two-point five kids before thirty-two, and so on.”

“Very true.” I didn’t subscribe to the pressure of doing things simply because others thought I should. Never had.

“I say if you want to call someone right away or sleep with someone on the first date, who cares?” Her eyes got big, and she turned a delightful shade of pink. “I didn’t—I was talking generally, not putting it out there that I was planning to, um—”

I couldn’t help it; I started laughing. She was adorable. “You have made your point. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like you.” I wasn’t kidding. She seemed carefree and uninhibited about what she wanted from life or, more specifically, what she didn’t.

“Maybe you need to get out of the city more often.”

“I obviously do. You’re correct in that I put a lot of time into the job, which doesn’t allow meeting a lot of new people.”

“So you don’t date a woman in every new town you travel to?”

Although she was teasing me, I wanted to ensure she knew I didn’t. “Not at all. Matter of fact, if it wasn’t for meeting you yesterday, I’d most likely be in my hotel room ordering room service or at the gym right now.”

“Would people call you a workaholic?”

“Absolutely.”

She studied me for a moment, smoothing over her initial frown. “Do you love your job?”

“I don’t think love is the word. But I’m good at it, and I enjoy certain aspects, such as travel. I have a bit of wanderlust. How about you?”

She sipped her beer. “I’m the opposite. Very content to stay in my comfort zone and home state. But I do work long hours. I don’t love my job, but I love the people I work with, so I keep doing it.”

“What happens with Cooper while you’re at work?”

“Dog walker comes in around midday. If I’m too late, my brother-in-law will go by to feed him, but those nights are rare. I try to maintain a healthy work/life balance.”

“And if work is your life? Asking for a friend.”

She laughed, obviously knowing I wasn’t. “Then I’d say your friend needs to find that thing outside of work he can’t wait to get home to.”

“And what’s yours?” I truly was curious, never having looked forward to anything but my job.

“My family. My dog. Friends. Gardening. Cooking, eating, and running in that order because then repeat.”

“What is it you do for work?”

“Hold onto your seat. I work in—” She made a show of looking to her right and left as if she was about to reveal she was a spy. Then she whispered across the table, “Accounting.”

I laughed out loud. “And it’s a secret because?”

“Because if people heard, they’d realize how truly boring I am. I wish I was more adventurous, but most days I crunch numbers, and usually I like it.”

I didn’t believe she was boring in the slightest. “And you indicated you enjoy the people you work with?”

“For the most part, but there’s always one asshole.”

Didn’t I know it. “Yes, there is. Tell me about yours, and I’ll share mine.” I was curious what constituted an arsehole in her mind.

“Okay. He’s a colleague but treats me as though I work for him. He’s never in the office and belittles his people if it suits him. Wasted space, really. If he gets the promotion we’re both applying for, I’d be reporting to him, which means I’d have to quit.”

“Are you more qualified for the position?”

“Definitely.”

I appreciated her confidence. “Then you should get the job. But if you don’t, it’s normally a sign they don’t value you, and you should move on.”

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