“Excellent. And your industry is…?”
“Reputation ruination. We’ve covered this.”
“Unique profession, reputation ruination. Is it your side job, or is that your nine-to-five? Is it a work-from-home thing? Or do you have an office? I know a person or two who could use those services.” I add a smile even though I’m dead serious. If my new life mission is to be the superheroSuper Vengeance Man, I could use a sidekick who can ruin the reputations of people who deserve it.
She sigh-groans. “Look, you seem like a nice person—”
“Ah, and here comes the blow-off.” I’m actually smiling out of instinct instead of forcing it now. Feels good.
“This isn’t about you,” the redhead says. “It’s about me using gossip improperly.”
“Go on.”
“No.”
“Look, I can take a no. This isn’t me not taking a no. This is me observing that you look sad and you’re still sitting here. You did me a favor. Seem like a good wing woman. Just saying, if you need to get something off your chest, I’m here.”
“Nothing good ever comes of gossiping.”
I lift my brows.
And she sigh-groans again. “That’s such a lie.Lotsof good comes from gossiping. Do you know how many of my friends I saved from not justbadrelationships, but potentiallydangerousrelationships because of gossip? How many people I’ve saved from getting into the wrong job? The number of family reunions that weren’t even mine that I saved with a well-placedyou should consider bringing something else because potato salad is your fiancé’s aunt’s thing and if you tread on that, she’ll leave her dogs to his sister instead of him and you know how much he loves Fluffy and Sparky? When you know everything there is to know about your community, you can use your knowledge for good. You don’t have to just use it for evil.”
“Saving someone from being disinherited over potato salad seems like a good use of gossip.”
“I’m off gossip.”
“Those poor dogs. I hope they’re happy with second-rate parents.” Huh. I’m beingfunny.
She chances a look at me, a hint of an actual smile twisting her curvy lips and a little sparkle coming back into her green eyes.
Confirmed.
Iambeing funny.
“What’s your name?” I ask her.
She shakes her head.
“I’ll go first. Hi. I’m Duke. Lovely to meet you.”
“You’reDuke.”
“Don’t I look like a Duke?”
She bursts out laughing, which does a funny thing in my chest area that I actively ignore no matter how much I want to like it. “No.”
I fake a gasp of horror. “You gossipandmock my name?”
“It’s just so ironic, since my name is Duchess.”
It’s my turn to laugh.
Actually laugh.
Who am I, and what’s happening to me?
She props an elbow on the bar and settles her head in her hand, watching me while she swings one leg. “Areyoua gossip?”
