Page 37 of Anatomy of a Meet Cute
“Oh, please. That is extremely dramatic of you. Then again, your mother is an opera singer. How has this not come up?”
“It’s really not that interesting.” Grant half smiled over at her as he started to walk down the block. “Coming?”
“Your mother is, like, the woman with the blonde braids and Viking helmet? How is that not interesting?” Sam asked, trailing behind him.
Grant shrugged. “The Viking-helmet lady is a Wagnerian soprano, which is actually just a dramatic soprano. My mother is a coloratura, so it’s different.” Grant digressed as he tried to navigate the complexity of however many types of opera singers there were. Giving his head a little shake, he said, “Not that it matters. For most people: Yes, sure. She is the Viking-helmet lady.”
“What do you mean, it doesn’t matter? You are, like, the only person I know who knows things about opera.”
“I mean, it matters, but it isn’t like I am going to convince you to start watching and listening to opera based on this.”
“Okay, Mr.Epicurean Tastes. You don’t know me. Just because I’ve never been exposed to something doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like it. I would totally listen to opera,” Sam said, feeling the pull of a challenge tug at her. Not that Grant thinking she wouldn’t like opera should matter. It totally didn’t. Except that it did, a little. Drawing herself up to her full height, she said, “Where should I start?”
Grant raised an eyebrow at her as if testing her sincerity. “Most people like Mozart. It’s very accessible,” he said, and Sam got the distinct impression thataccessiblewas somehow a bad thing. After a minute, headded, “If you are serious, I’ll text you a podcast that is a good intro to opera and a link to a good recording to start with.”
“I am dead serious. Is your mom in this one?”
Grant snorted and shook his head. “No.”
“That’s okay. What’s your mom’s name? I’ll track a recording down.”
“Maybe just start with Mozart. Then you can watch my mom’s entire career if you like it,” Grant said, his laugh sounding skeptical as he stopped in front of a newer-model Audi SUV. “This is me.”
Sam waited until Grant shoved a stack of papers onto the passenger-side floor before opening the car door. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, his car was much more comfortable than public transport. Looking down at the floor mat, she caught a glimpse of the papers he had shoved off the seat. They were the documents she had prepared for him about the Anjo Group and the project, and they were covered in highlights with little notes in the margin. If this was Grant’s idea of skimming, she wondered what it looked like when he really studied.
Grant pressed the start button, and the car hummed to life as he said, “I’m just gonna head in the general direction. You can put your address in the GPS if you want.”
“Ooh, nav system and flying first class. You’re a fancy senior fellow,” Sam laughed.
“Not really. This was my graduation gift from my biological father. He’s a banker. I don’t think either of us has much interest in a relationship at this point, but I do enjoy using his airline status for upgrades and driving this car. Okay, and the occasional nice watch.”
“I hadn’t noticed the watch.”
“I figured I’d better confess or you’d think I was a liar as well as a snob,” Grant said, checking his mirror before pulling away from the curb.
For a moment Sam was quiet, unsure of what to do with Grant’s honesty. She did think he was a snob. She just hadn’t expected him tocall her on it. Recovering a beat too slowly, Sam felt her cheeks heat up as she said, “I don’t think you’re a snob.”
“I think you’re a bad liar.” Grant smirked as he layered on the sarcasm.
“You know what?” Sam laughed. “I was going to say thank you for trusting me, but now I don’t think I will.”
“Trusting you with what? My car’s origin story?” Grant laughed low and smiled at her like she was amusing.
“Sure, that too. But more that you could have backed out of being the program’s supervisor. I know you weren’t that excited about it. But you trusted me to try, so if I were going to say thank you, I would say it for that. But I’m not.”
“If you were thanking me, I’d say it wasn’t like a big thing. Really, all I had to do is show up.”
“Right ... only yesterday, you said you hadn’t read the materials, but the funding paperwork on your floor is covered in highlights and notes. That doesn’t look like you just showed up.”
Grant frowned slightly as if having been caught making an obvious effort to help was deeply uncomfortable to him. “I had extra time this morning.”
“What? At four thirty a.m.?” Sam arched an eyebrow and looked over at Grant, who was suddenly very engaged in checking his rearview mirror.
“It’s not a big thing.”
“Sure.” Sam’s heart squeezed as Grant attempted to play off his hard work. Try as he might to be aloof, there was no way around the fact that he had done something totally sweet for her. At best, Sam had expected a power read. He’d even made it sound like that was all he would do. Maybe he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but Sam could totally hug him right now ... if he was open to it. She didn’t know why he would be. Except for what he’d said in the elevator ...
A pothole in the road rocked Sam back into the moment. Catching sight of Grant’s apprehension, she decided to let him off the hook. “Have it your way, Grant. I totally believe that you expended zero energy on this despite the highlights and the neon-green sticky note on the front.”
