Page 12 of Kiss and Tell
“I want a place that’s mine,” he said. “A place I can be proud of. A place that feels like home.”
The wistful note in his voice pulled at something inside me.
“You want a place that feels like home?” I repeated.
He nodded, his dark eyes full of longing.
I flipped the pad of paper closed and put it away in my bag along with the pencil. I wasn’t going to get what I needed with an interview-style meeting. This wasn’t going to be the kind of simple, straightforward job I was used to. It was surprising. I would have figured a guy like Connor was as simple and straightforward as they came.
This job was going to take something more.
I folded my hands and looked at him plainly.
I knew I was going to regret this.
“Then we’re going to have to get to know each other,” I told him.
Four
“This feels like a first date.”
“It’s not a date,” I told Connor. “This is me getting to know my client.”
Connor eyed the dartboard with a squint, then threw his third dart. It landed close to the center.
“I don’t know,” he said, “Here we are, at a bar, drinks in hand, playing darts together. Seems like a first date.”
“I’ve got a soda,” I replied. “You’re the one who insisted on drinking beer at two p.m.”
“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” he said reasonably. “Besides, you’ve been asking me all these questions. It’s like you’re reading off one of thosefifty things to ask on a first datelists you find in women’s magazines.”
“Are you really telling me you read women’s magazines?”
“If you want to know the female mind, you’ve got to read what they read,” he replied.
“You think you know the female mind?” I asked. “What am I thinking right now?”
Connor turned from the dartboard and dragged his gaze from the top of my head to my feet.
“Right now you’re thinking you shouldn’t have worn those pointed toe shoes,” he said.
I flushed, trying not to rock from foot to foot. I’d been shifting my weight back and forth to alleviate the discomfort in my toes.
“They’re new shoes,” I said stiffly. “I haven’t broken them in yet.”
“You can take them off,” he suggested.
I looked down at the dirty, sticky floor. “I’m good, thanks.”
“I know this place is a little worn down,” he said.
“A little?” I muttered under my breath.
“But my brother likes it that way,” he continued. “The people who drink here don’t have to worry if they get a little too excited and spill something or if they make a mess. It kind of puts everyone at ease and makes them feel like they can let loose. There’s no pretension, there’s nothing fancy.”
“There’s a difference between unpretentious and a health hazard,” I replied.
“They do a clean sweep about once a month,” Connor said. “But it never stays clean for long. The guys here get pretty into their drinking and partying.”
