Page 25 of Dead Serious with Benefits
“Ah, yes, that would do it.”
“Indeed. One needs a little of all those things to get ahead in politics, and she has no problem making sure she gets ahead.”
“It occurs to me that I should probably know her if she’s in politics and is successful.”
“Oh, you’ve probably heard her name.”
“A name you’re failing to mention.”
“Oh, I could tell you if you wish. I’m surprised you haven’t looked into me at all.”
I leaned back in my seat, peering up at the ceiling. “Should I have?”
“This is by no means an attempt to brag, but I suspect it’s not often someone runs into someone with my lifestyle and obvious money. Curiosity would be natural.”
“Are you trying to say that your name is big enough that Ward would have been enough to search?”
“I’m saying that with the information you possess, you would probably have an easy time hunting down information on me if you so chose. Which you clearly haven’t. Not the curious sort?”
“I’m plenty curious,” I said, enjoying how he sounded. His speech was flawless, each word enunciated, each syllable clear, and there was rarely a break from the formal way he spoke. Yet there was an energy, a warmth that permeated his words. There had probably been some form of speech training, formal or informal, but even with that, it was clear his smooth personality found its way into his speech. It was like listening to the rain, steady and rhythmic, but absolutely calming. “I don’t, however, make it my business to rummage through the lives of the living.”
“Of the living,” he repeated in an amused voice. “Now that’s an interesting phrase. Tell me, are you a grave robber by chance? A rather old, sordid, and outdated method of attaining wealth, but still.”
“No,” I said with a snort. “Or would a ‘yes’ have been ‘interesting’ to you?”
“Interesting, yes, though to say I would find it distasteful would be putting it mildly,” he said.
“Ah, so not everything interesting to you is worth your attention.”
“There are limits to what I find interesting, yes. I’m not sure if I should feel insulted that you needed to say that, or if I should be comforted that you accept the idea gracefully.”
“You could do what I do whenever I’m torn between compliments and offense.”
“And what would that be?”
“I generally accept the compliment, rather than take the possibility of an insult.”
“And if someone is obvious about inferring an insult?”
“Then I choose to take the compliment anyway. I find it’s easier to take someone at their word.”
“Even if the sarcasm is obvious?”
“Especially then.”
A jolt shot through me when he laughed. “Now, isn’t that the most delightfully passive-aggressive thing I’ve ever heard? If anything, I’m torn between being impressed and disappointed.”
I tilted my head. “Why would you be disappointed?”
“Because I never thought of doing that,” he explained with a chuckle. “I have a multitude of ways to get under someone’s skin, and not once did I think to use...Autismcore.”
“I...Autismcore?” I wondered in confusion.
“Oh yes, take a word and slap ‘core’ at the end, and you’ll create a mood around a behavior, or a vibe, if you prefer. That’sprecisely what people nowadays expect from someone so locked into their autism that they miss blatant sarcasm. It’s beautiful, really. You create a situation where the person either has to let the lack of acknowledgement to their barb pass them by, or they have to be outright rude...are you autistic for the record?”
It was my turn to laugh. “No. I was tested...three times.”
“Really?” he asked with a snicker. “No offense, but the lovely conversation we had before left me with the idea that you might be.”
