You don’t have a future as a detective.
I send him my sweetest smile, which could cause cavities, it’s so saccharine. “And you, Sunshine, don’t have a future as a clown. So here we are, two people not doing jobs they’d suck at, eating omelets together on a Monday morning and irritating the shit out of each other, though only one of them knows why. Ain’t life grand?”
I pick up my fork and proceed to dig into my breakfast.
After a moment, Theo types into his phone and holds it out for me to see.
For someone who doesn’t curse,
you sure curse a lot.
I look at him. He lifts a shoulder, like, Just sayin’. Then I start to laugh, because it’s either that or start crying.
“You’re seriously killing me here, you know that? I’ve encountered hyperbolic geometry problems less incomprehensible than you.”
Hyperbolic geometry? Is that your way of
letting me know you’ve got a big brain?
With a roll of my eyes, I push his phone away from my face. “Sunshine, my brain is so big, it’s almost the size of your bad attitude.”
Then a miracle occurs: we smile at each other.
“Everything okay with the food?”
The waitress has appeared at our table side once again. From the kitchen door on the other side of the restaurant, three kitchen staff in white stare at us, whispering behind their hands.
When I cock an eyebrow at them, they disappear back into the kitchen in a flash of starched aprons.
Theo makes the OK sign at the waitress. Coming from anyone else, that gesture would be friendly, but he manages to make it look hostile. Terrified, the waitress leaves without a peep.
Watching her go, I sigh. “God. You could make a nun want to commit murder. You ever think about, I don’t know, being pleasant every once in a while? Or would that clash with the whole Mr. Tall, Dark, and Broody thing you’ve got going on?”
He turns and looks at me, his eyes shining, the corners of his lips curved up. Batting his long lashes, he makes an innocent face and points at his chest.
“Yes, you.” I turn back to my omelet with a shake of my head, surprised to find myself smiling again. Am I beginning to enjoy his whiplash-causing mood changes? Now that would be a plot twist.
We eat. I wonder if he’s as aware of me as I am of him. Every little movement he makes registers in my brain, like a Richter scale tracking the magnitude of an earthquake. I’ve never met someone so contradictory. In my experience, men are generally much simpler creatures than women, but this particular man is more complex than a Rubik’s cube.
Or maybe he’s just nuts.
“I want to talk to you about something you emailed me,” I say casually to my plate.
Theo takes that as his cue to pull his statue impersonation again, but I was anticipating that reaction and don’t let it rattle me.
“You said you weren’t stable. Which, honestly, is obvious. I won’t pry into your personal life, but on one hand, you’re telling me to hire you, and on the other hand, you’re telling me you hear voices and see ghosts and have a history with drugs, legal and otherwise. Can you see how that would be problematic from a prospective client’s point of view?”
I wasn’t expecting an answer, so when I don’t get one, I keep right on talking.
“I like Coop, a lot. I hear great things about your company, your work ethic, and your talent. That book you brought with the computer images was incredible. And your competition is quickly eliminating itself. But you, Mr. Valentine, are worrisome. To be completely honest, I don’t know what to make of you. I don’t think I can trust you. And if we were to work together, trust is a nonnegotiable. You said we can never be friends, and I can accept that…but I won’t accept uncertainty about your ability to do your job. I have to know you’re going to be there, be professional, and be absolutely rock solid, regardless of whatever your personal issues are.”
I lift my head and look at him. He gazes back at me with a pained expression, his face pale.
“That house is more than just a house to me,” I tell him, my voice low but strong. “It’s a lifeline. It’s a kept promise. It’s probably the only thing I’ll ever love again. Do you understand?”
He stares deep into my eyes, long past the point of politeness. Then he sends me a text.
Yes. More than you’ll ever know.
I blow out a hard breath, because hello, enigmatic statement, sit right down and join the conversation. I get another text right on the heels of the first.
I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings with the
friend comment. The last thing I want to do
is hurt you. It’s just that being around you is hard.