His face twists into a slightly embarrassed smile. “I knew it would upset my father, especially if I pretended to believe I would one day be able to turn scrap metals into riches.”
My mouth drops open in shock, and I say the first thing that comes to mind. “You must really hate your father.”
“Let’s just say I had a lot of pent-up rage, and that four-year period helped to reduce it a great deal.”
“Oh, so money well spent, then.”
He gives me a broad smile. “Kind of adds something that it washismoney, doesn’t it?”
I burst out laughing. “I honestly don’t know whether to be terrified or impressed.”
“Be impressed, please,” he says with a wry smile. “That took some serious commitment.”
As much as I know he wants me to find the entire story amusing, there’s something about the way he says please that tells me deep in my bones that he needs someone to approve of him.
Before I can think of the right response, he says, “All right, my turn to ask the uncomfortable questions now.”
“Uh oh.”
“What was the thing you said that you shouldn’t have that got you kicked off the hen’s weekend?”
I wince, closing my eyes for a second. “I said her fiancé is an idiot, and that I wouldn’t marry a guy like him if someone had a gun to my head.”
“Ouch. That’s hard to come back from.”
“Oh, there’s more,” I say, holding up one finger. “I told her he’s going to drag her down with him, and she shouldn’t settle for the first guy who came along, and that she should make something of herself instead of becoming some vapid housewife.”
“Whoa,” Leo mutters. “You really went for it.”
My stomach tightens. “I certainly did. I was extremely drunk at the time, but that hardly matters, does it? I never should have said anything.” I stare into the glowing embers of the fire, my eyes stinging with tears. “I just got so defensive, because she and her stupid friends implied that I’m jealous that she’s getting married and I’m still single.”
“Are you?” he asks gently.
I glance up at him, a flash of anger surging through me. “Why would I be? I have no desire to marry a moron.”
“Obviously, but I mean, surely you must sometimes want to share the burdens and joys of parenting with someone. I know I would.”
I shrug. “I have my aunt. And I don’t need some man to pick up after, so, honestly, it doesn’t bother me in the least that men prefer women who look like they stepped off the cover ofPlayboy. I’m a modern woman, and I’m lucky enough to live in a time in history when women can,and do, manage to do this on their own.”
“Do you really think your looks hold you back from being in a relationship?”
I blush, embarrassed by the question. “No. I’m not in a relationship because I have no interest in one, but before, when I was too young and stupid to know better, I didn’t exactly have guys beating down the door to get to me.”
“If I had to guess, I’d say it had absolutely nothing to do with your looks, because it certainly doesn’t now.”
“Oh, please. Men are visual. Looks first and always.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “That’s not true at all.”
“Really?” I ask, giving him a sceptical expression. “Then why do my sister and her beautiful but stupid friends all have fiancés or boyfriends?”
He stares at me for a second without answering, so I continue. “Ha! You can’t answer that one, can you? I rest my case.”
“That’s why,” he mutters.
“What’s why?”
“You’ve got this very busy, whip-smart, no-nonsense, soon-to-dominate-the-legal-world thing going on. It’s a bit scary.” His voice is calm, as though he thinks he’s helping me by sharing his opinion instead of pissing me off to no end.
