She nods. “I do.”
“What’s your name?” I ask.
“Audrey.”
Oh. “The A is for Audrey.”
Audrey blushes as she twists her hands together. “It’s the name I put out there for anything that involves me going into the community. I’m a really private person, and usually once people find out my last name, there are … questions.”
Now I’m intrigued. “That I completely understand. I won’t ask any questions if you don’t ask me anything.”
“Do you get asked a lot of questions by people you barely know?”
I laugh with a huff of breath. “Oh yeah. People have no shame, asking me the weirdest shit.”
Audrey cocks her head to the side. “Is it wrong of me to wonder what the most outlandish and off-the-wall question you’ve ever gotten is?”
I can’t help the smile that covers my face. “Typically it’s whenever a kid interviews me. They’ll ask questions like making me choose between uncooked Ramen noodles and a charred marshmallow, or ask me the last time I cried in a movie theater.”
“I’ll need answers to both.”
“Charred marshmallow and I believe I told the kid I’ve never cried in a movie theater. But I’m pretty sure I cried at the end ofMarley and Me.”
Audrey gasps. “Anyone who didn’t is a heathen! Now tell me the weirdest question an adult has asked you.”
Tapping my chin I think for a moment. Probably eighty-five to ninety percent of questions reporters ask me are about football or dating. A reporter down in Colorado Springs routinely asks me random things about my childhood, though. “One guy asked me what my favorite subject was in elementary school, then wanted to know if I remembered what grade I got in it.”
“What subject?” Audrey asks.
“Science.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “I like cause and effect. Manipulating one variable can change an entire experiment. I think that’s pretty cool. It’s messy, though. I’m not a big fan of mess.”
Audrey nods in agreement, her eyes sparkling beautifully. “There’s a time and a place for messiness. I don’t like getting different textures on my skin, so I have boxes of surgical gloves everywhere. It makes dealing with messes slightly less traumatic.”
Fucking hell, I think I just fell in love with her a little bit. “Alright, now it’s your turn. You don’t have to tell me your name, but give me one unhinged question you’ve been asked.”
I watch as her eyes dull slightly. “A new client asked why I was a veterinarian when I could just marry a friend of my father’s.”
My mouth drops open. “Jesus. Was the client male or female?”
Her nose scrunches up. “A woman.”
“That makes sense. I suppose a man would probably proposition you, or ask if he had a chance, whereas a woman will see you as competition.”
Audrey harrumphs. “This is why I don’t understand women. Why see me as competition? Why aren’t we building each other up, and celebrating our successes?”
I shrug. “You’re asking the wrong person. I don’t understand women either.”
Audrey rolls her eyes. “Please. An NFL quarterback? Women are beating down your door. You don’thaveto understand us because you have a line waiting to get their shot with you.”
“Not true,” I murmur, my eyes dropping to study the swirls of colors on the table. I love how colorful The Red Llama is. Except for the bathrooms. Red bathrooms actually weird me out.
“You don’t have a line of women?” Audrey asks.
I shrug again. “Maybe. But once they get to know me, truly know me, they’re not interested.”
