Page 31 of Perfect Pitch

“Of course.” My hands are already reaching for my clutch the second he disappears from sight. I debate whether to share with Mitch that I’m not quite legal when he’s sliding back across from me. “I apologize. There was a mix-up in schedules.”

“That’s not a problem.” I fiddle with my silverware.

“So, other than being my brother’s roommate and having a voice that is indelibly imprinted on my brain, tell me about yourself, Austyn.”

“I moved to the city from Texas a few months ago. I’m excited to experience a real fall.”

“You realize most people do the opposite—try to move to warmer weather instead of the bitter cold? What’s been the hardest thing to adapt to?”

I frown thoughtfully. “Public transportation. I’m used to having a car at my disposal.”

“It wasn’t housing?”

“Ahh, yes. Housing. I would have been fine renting a place on my own, but...”

“But what?”

“What’s the point of paying those astronomical prices when I don’t know where in the city I should end up.”

His fingers tangle with mine. “What did you like to do back in Texas?”

“My mother’s family founded the town I’m from.” I scrunch my nose before lifting one of my multi-colored hued braids. “Let’s just say this isn’t fashionable back home.”

He grins. I get lost in his smile for a few moments before clearing my throat and continuing. “My grandfather owns a farm which one of my uncles manages.”

“A farm, as in things that go moo?”

“A farm, as in things that go neigh.”

“You ride.” It’s a statement.

“Incredibly well.”

“My mother had me in the saddle from the time I was a toddler.”

“What do your parents do? Work on the farm as well?”

He doesn’t realize what a sore subject he just prodded at. “My mother worked hard to earn her degrees. She’s an audiologist.”

His brows shoot sky high. “A doctor? She practices?”

“Specializes in children’s medicine.” My voice holds all the pride in the world. “I remember being a little kid and curling up next to her as she’d be studying.”

“She went to school late in life.”

“No, she didn’t.” What she did was have me before she turned eighteen.

“And your father? You haven’t mentioned him.”

I pull my hand away so I can rub my hands up and down my arms. “I have no idea.”

“He’s not in your life?”

“He never has been,” I correct. To get us off this line of conversation, I lift my menu in front of my face and ask, “What would you recommend for supper?”

Impatiently, Mitch places a hand on my menu to lower it. “You mean you’ve never met your father?”

“That is correct,” I confirm coolly.

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