Page 9 of Oh Boy!
I can’t allow such weakness. I need to redirect the conversation, pronto. “I hadn’t realized that you knew Rupert before this week’s class.”
Thankfully, he doesn’t call me out on my subterfuge and plays along. His eyes light up. “Well, saying that I knew him would be far-fetched, but yes, on Thursday, he told me that he’s attended several of my seminars.” His velvety voice conveys the same confidence as before, but as he carries on, his pace quickens with infectious energy. “First one was in London, a couple of years ago. I don’t know what he told you about them.”
“Not much… apart from the fact that he discovered a class that found a way to… enhance his ability to focus on his music.” I chuckle, registering that I’ve never quite understood what Rupert meant by that, and also that he never mentioned his breathtaking instructor.
“Proper breathing can help you achieve greater goals. Anyway, I had no clue Rupert was a former student.” His hypnotic smile reaches his ears. “He came up to me when we were about to part ways on Thursday and shared his feedback. He claimed that he found me less intimidating that day. Also, he was nice enough to pretend that I upped my game.” His shoulders relax.
“That’s an interesting job you have, teaching people how to breathe!” There’s no sarcasm, just something that sounds like bewilderment to my own ears. “One of your many… talents.” My teasing sounds like a question, and we chuckle before I inquire more seriously, “Why martial arts?”
“Oh, these conferences are only part of my job. I’m a calligrapher. I’m lucky to make good money doing something I’m passionate about.”
I nod, understanding the feeling. He explains more about his art. I reveal a bit about my obsessive zeal for archaeology. We dissect various obsessions, laughing in the process. The conversation flows easily; I notice that he makes a point of staying engaged and focused on me. It’s a nice change.
“I’m curious as to what an archaeological site actually looks like.”
“Well, you’re welcome to pay me a visit anytime,” I hear myself say before I can stop myself. “I was supposed to be done, but yesterday, they called asking for, and I quote, ‘at least another month of my unique expertise.’” I find myself playing with my braid again, embarrassed by the praise.
“You have every reason to be proud, you know.” He wasn’t listening at first and now he’s reading my mind.
I nod, then ask for his phone that he gleefully hands over. “In case you’re serious about coming to Lindenmeier, let me give you my phone number.” I punch my digits in.
Checking it, a roar of laughter rumbles his appetizing chest. “Barbie, huh?”
I grin, amused that I quickly found a picture online to match the nickname that he gave me at the dojo.
“You still haven’t given me your name.”
I think I like teasing him as much as my hair. I bat my lashes outrageously.
“I know.”
