Page 24 of If It Can't Be Us

“That’s great. What made you decide to go into psychology?”

“Good question.” He leans back, folding one arm and rubbing his chin with the other, deep in thought. “I’ve always been fascinated by what makes people who they are—individual differences, perception, what makes them tick, what they value, how they’re influenced, and how these factors shape personality and character. My own introspection as a young man drove me to pursue psychology, where I could delve into the complexities of the human mind.” He shifts forward in his chair. “Not just to understand others, but to help them understand themselves.”

As he talks, his eyes light up with enthusiasm, and I find myself leaning in, captivated by his explanation.

“Not just a pretty face, I see,” I say with a smile, unable to hide my genuine admiration.

He smirks. “Well, I had to develop some other skills, Walker. A pretty face only gets you so far.”

“You’re very clever, I’ll give you that.”

“What about you? What made you become an architect?”

“Hmm, let’s see.” I hesitate, unsure how to respond without bringing Ben into the picture. I decide to tell the truth, but not the whole truth…a half-truth. “When I was younger, I dreamed of becoming a famous artist, with my art displayed in fancy exhibits and celebrities lining up to buy it.” I laugh. “But a boyfriend in high school, whose dad owned a home-building company, suggested architecture. He told me I could still be creative and have a secure career, and keep drawing and painting as a hobby.”

I don’t tell him that my boss is the same ‘said’ boyfriend’s dad and that the company I work for shares my last name.

“And do you still draw and paint as a hobby?”

“Yeah, I do,” I say, nodding. “When I have spare time.”

The waitress comes over, and I study Leo as he gives his order. He’s so rugged and handsome. I’m a bit stunned by how much I actually like his personality.

The waitress leaves, and he turns his attention back to me.

“What do you like to paint and draw?”

“I love landscape painting, mostly with watercolors, but I use oil paints as well. When it comes to drawing, I enjoy sketching faces. Capturing different emotions on paper gives me a feeling of fulfillment that I can’t quite describe. Is that weird?”

He shakes his head, and I continue, “I turned my rooftop room into my own little art studio.”

“I’d love to see it sometime.”

The thought of him coming over gives me butterflies. “You’re welcome anytime.”

A mischievous grin spreads across his face, the one he often wears when he’s being devious. It makes his dimple stand out more than any other smile he has. “Anytime?” He cocks an eyebrow. “You know, sometimes the evenings get a little lonely. I might need someone to keep me company.” He holds my stare, maintaining composure, waiting for my reaction.

I break. I can’t help myself. Laughter explodes from me, and I playfully toss my napkin at him. “You really are such a flirt, you know that?”

He grins, leaning in closer. “Only with you.”

Our food arrives, and I realize I only have thirty minutes until I need to be back at the office.

Smiling, he starts stabbing and cutting at his steak.

“Do you have any other businesses aside from the restaurant?” I ask.

He swallows, nodding his head, and takes a drink of his water. “Yes, I own a martial arts studio in London with my brother, Andrew. We have good managers, and Andrew oversees it. I have less stake in it since I’m not heavily involved. I also co-own multiple commercial real estate properties in London with my dad and a handful here in Chicago.” He says all this like it’s no big deal.

“Okay, so by ‘dabble’, what you really meant was you basically have an empire and are wealthy as fuck?”

“My dad’s the one that’s wealthy as fuck. He has more money than God.”

“Was being a trust fund baby hard for you?” I ask teasingly. “Is this why you have relationship issues?”

He scoffs. “Here she comes with her claws out. I do love when you get feisty. I don’t have relationship issues. I just love my life the way it is. And no, it wasn’t difficult being a trust fund baby. Having money makes it wildly easier to make more money.” He winks and adds with a grin, “Jealous?”

He has a way of flustering me. Just when I think I’ve one-upped him, he dishes it back ten-fold.

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