He reacted as if she'd slid a squirrel toward him instead of an ordinary, three-year-old cell phone. “No, thank you.”
“Please, Jude. For the sake of the operation. This is exactly the realistic kind of detail that I would know about you if I was your girlfriend. Word aversions would’ve become an inside joke between us. It would be athing. This is our third conversation, but this is the first personal detail that seems like it belongs to a real human being that I can attach to you.”
His forehead grooved. “Is there a criticism about me in there?”
“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “If you tell me your word aversions and a few other personal details about yourself, then I will tell you personal details about myself.” This seemed the way to deal with Jude Camden. Negotiate as if everything was a business transaction.
He thought about it, then bent his head and typed on her phone. After a few minutes, he pushed the phone back to her.
Silently, she read his list.Moist,livid,scuttle,jiggle,cacophony,congealed,luggage,gal,greasy. This intelligent attorney and composed FBI agent shuddered at the wordjiggle? This information was gold.
“All right.” She attemptednotto look like she was bursting at the seams with this new, bribe-worthy data. “And now personal details? What do you do for fun?”
“I hang out with my friends and my family. I play sports—”
“Which ones?”
“Racquetball in the winter and golf in the summer.”
“Other things you do for fun?”
“I really like to fish.”
“Lake or ocean?”
“Both.”
“Okay. Go on.”
“I eat clean. But I do have one serving of chocolate a day. I love chocolate.”
“What Enneagram number are you?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
She leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table. “It’s sort of a no-no in Enneagram land to diagnose other people's personality numbers but you’re definitely a one.”
“And you are?”
“A seven. I’m sure you’ll do your homework later and research what that means. When you do, you'll have access to my inner workings.” She carried her empty soup bowl to the sink.
“And now for some personal details about you?” he prompted, holding her to her end of the bargain.
“As you can see, I love hunting for antiques and packing my house with my finds.” She gestured to her collection. “I go to kickboxing class three times a week, which Iloveand alsohate. I sometimes eat dessert for breakfast or breakfast for dinner. People who park at a gas pump and then go inside when there are cars waiting for open gas pumps are my pet peeve. I prefer old-fashioned paper maps. I can look at a map before I take off on my Vespa and get where I'm going without a single wrong turn.”
She rinsed her bowl and opened the dishwasher. He brought the rest of the tableware—his bowl, their silverware, glasses—to her. Nice manners for a man who'd doubtless been raised with servants to clean up after him. She pre-washed the items. He held out a hand for her to pass each piece to him so he could slot them inside the dishwasher.
When done, she flicked the dishtowel over her shoulder and closed the dishwasher door with her foot. “Have you had your serving of chocolate today?”
“No.”
“Are you saving it for later so you can drown your sorrows in it after having to spend time with me?”
“Nope.”
She rustled around in her freezer.
“Dealing with you,” he said from behind her, “is not as hard on me as you seem to think it is.”
