Page 54 of The Rules Of Attraction
I probably shouldn’t have asked. It was a personal question and none of my business. My brain didn’t register that though before I said the words.
His smile widened. “Not always.”
“Okay. So people will assume we’re sleeping together?” I stifled a mental groan.
“I don’t care what people think. Neither should you. No one should waste time worrying over what others think. It stops you from doing what you want.”
“Noted, we don’t care what people think.” I’d try this. It would be weird to go back to being told what to do and not taking the lead or having my input on a case, but I’d do it. “What’s our work list like.”
“We have a number of cases. One big one that will take up a lot of time. Seriously a lot. The others are small fry.”
“What’s the big one about?” Of course I was interested to know.
“Pause.”
“Pause? What do you mean?”
“We don’t know each other. I hate talking about work on Saturdays.”
“But I want to know about the case.” I insisted.
“I’ll tell you after you tell me about yourself.”
I sighed. God how did I do this? “I’m from Ohio, and …”
I used to like introducing myself and telling people I’d studied and excelled at George Town. I loved reeling off all the places I’d worked at but I couldn’t do that here, with him. He’d wonder what the hell I was doing working as a PA, and that would lead to more questions.
“That all, angel? You’re from Ohio.” He raised a brow at me. “What about family, what do you like, what you don’t like?”
“My dad died a few months ago. I have cousins and an aunt and uncle, but we’re not close.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Concern filled his fine features. “ Are …you okay?”
“I try to take one day at a time.” That was probably more than I’d said to anyone in months about the grief I still felt over my father.
“Yeah, I felt like that when my grandfather died. I was close to him, and people tell me I’m a lot like him, so he’s to blame for my craziness.”
I smiled at that. “Really?”
“Yes, apparently the crazy gene skips a generation and goes to the second born son. My grandfather from my mom’s side was a fighter pilot in WW2. He got a medal of honor for singlehandedly rescuing a team that had been captured while on a mission.”
“Wow.” I was definitely intrigued. “That’s really cool.”
“Yeah, I thought so too. He used to tell me all his stories, and taught me how to fly a plane.”
“You can fly a plane?” Now that was something truly impressive.
He nodded. “I have a Cessna.”
“My gosh.” The man had a plane, an actual plane. I’d never met anyone wealthy enough to own their own plane. It was cool, and this little talk of ours was distracting in a good way.
“What did your dad do?”
“He owned a restaurant. People used to come from all over to taste his food. He had these amazing recipes that no one had ever heard of. Most of them were my mother’s.” I was simply talking, just giving information but not really thinking.
“Did they run the restaurant together?”
I lived my life for so long looking at pictures of my mom that sometimes she felt alive to me.
