Page 67 of One Wealthy Wedding

She’s silent for a moment, deep in thought. “Sabriel. By Garth Nix. I read it the first summer I got a library card. It’s my most read book. Blair and I bonded over it in college. She loves it too.”

I make a humming sound. “How do you know Blair?”

“That’s not on the questionnaire.”

“Humor me,” I say. “The questionnaire is a jumping-off point.”

Cat sighs like I’m asking a lot. “After I switched to community college, Blair was the first person to befriend me. She’s a Broadway performer.” Cat smiles. “She’s great. She lives on the edge, but in a fun way. She helped me a lot when I left Rockwood. Anyway, you next.” She picks up the paper.

“Why did you switch to community college?” I glance at her. We’re on a side street now, driving deeper into farmland. Cat won’t look at me, which means she’s hiding again.

“For my parents. I was an English major. In case you want to check off the first item.”

I don’t. I want to know what Cat is hiding. “What do you mean you switched for your parents?”

She’s silent for a second, fiddling with the paper. “They wanted to manage my life. And having me closer to home was one way to do that. After my dad realized I was inheriting the shares, a lot changed.” She sighs. “I didn’t want to switch to community college. So I picked English, just to piss them off. My dad always said it was the most useless major.”

I swallow my surprised sound. Cat rebelled. I want to smile. In her own way, Cat is more similar to me than I thought. “He’s a prick.” I’m letting the other line of questioning go. For now.

“Well, English hasn’t helped much with my MBA, I have to say. I wish every day I knew more about standard deviations and less about Chaucer.” She wrinkles her nose, and I grin. “What about you? Wait, no, let me guess.”

She taps her finger against her full bottom lip, and I wait for her to say something dismissive like “partying” or “beer bongs.” I know she’s going to, but something inside me crumples at the idea that, even after all this time, she will inevitably think so poorly of me. Instead, she says, “Economics.”

I barely control my sound of surprise. “How did you know? Wait, did you google me?”

“No. Lucky guess.” She bites her lip.

“Sure about that?” I pull into a parking lot for an abandoned super store.

“I googled you just once, but that wasn’t on there,” she says, but she squeezes her eyes shut. I’m silent. She squirms. “Fine, a bunch. I wanted to know what you were doing. It’s like knowing a celebrity. Don’t read into it.” She levels me a look.

I grin at her. “I’ll let that go. But yes, economics.”

She nods. “Because you’re ambitious.”

“Not many people would say that,” I say lightly.

“Oh, come off it, Theo. You traded stocks in college. You’re not going to convince me you’re some sort of dissolute partier all the time. Honestly. I don’t know why you persist with that.” She snorts and picks the paper back up.

I stare mutely at her, my throat working. Because it’s easier this way. And how the hell does Cat see me clearly when no one else does?

“Favorite movie,” she continues. “Oh, this is easy. Ever After. I must have watched it a hundred times as a teenager. It’s so romantic. You?”

“Mad Max,” I say gruffly. “All the cars. And the explosions. And Furiosa is a badass.”

“Favorite food? Mine is good tomatoes. They taste like summer. And yours is chocolate.”

“Guilty,” I say.

“Favorite sex position?” She looks up. “Is this going to come up in polite conversation?”

“Polite? No, probably not. But I’m covering my bases.” Her unwillingness makes me smile. “So what is it?”

Suddenly I’m desperate to know. How does she like it? Rough, like I do? Or sweet and slow? Sweet and slow might not be so bad, especially if she’s sighing and clutching at me like she did when we kissed. Fuck, I’m getting turned on, and that was not the point of this—

“I’m not sure, actually. Gosh, that’s embarrassing.”

My runaway thoughts come to a halt with her words.

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