“How did you end up at Brooker?”
“How does anyone end up in any job?”she asked.“I needed a job and I interviewed.”
“But you don’t last with clients?What’s the complaint?”
“I talk a lot,” she said, showing him a broad smile.“I speak my mind.I ask questions.”She shrugged.“I don’t think it’s any one thing.I don’t work the way some people like.Sometimes I’m too committed or not committed enough.Sometimes a wife won’t like me or a husband.Sometimes my boyfriend doesn’t like the client.”
“Your boyfriend?The one who screwed around on you?You really quit a client because he didn’t like the job?”
“Sometimes we have to compromise to make a relationship work,” she said.“Have you ever had a relationship?”
“Yes,” he said, maybe a little too quickly.“Why would you think I hadn’t?”
“You said everything was temporary and shallow.That you got sick of it.Maybe you never tried just, you know, sticking with one woman.Were your parents married?”
“Yeah,” he said with a head bob.“Still are.You want to sit outside?”
“No.”Figuring maybe he didn’t like having a conversation across the pool table, she came back inside.“Did they spoil you?”
“My parents?They spoiled all of us.”
“You have siblings?”
“Brothers.Two.”
“Maybe you didn’t learn how to compromise with a woman,” she said.“Were you and your brothers competitive with each other?”
“My oldest brother is competitive,” he said and smiled.“He’s been fighting to win a game me and Knox gave up in preschool.”
“So you’re indifferent?”
His frown took over his smile in a snap.“No, I wouldn’t say that.”
“What do you care about?”Propping herself against the pool table, she crossed one ankle over the other.“Money?”
He actually leaned in, his brows going high.“Me?”Pressing his lips together, he fought to dam the laugh that escaped in his next words.“Yeah, uh huh, money’s all it for me.”
“Don’t mock me,” she said, her head relaxing.“I’m trying to figure you out.”
“I’m not a puzzle,” he said, leaving his stool.“I care about my family, my friends, and my work.I keep myself to myself.I’m not interested in glamour or flash.I sure don’t care about dollar signs.”He glanced around.“You see it, I bought it with my hard earned cash.I care about happiness, about the people I care about being happy.”
He stopped in front of her.
“Okay,” she said, standing straight.“Do you want me to call you Mr.Collier?”
“Only if it turns you on.”
And there, right there, was the reason she spent so much time walking away, putting distance between them.The man was celibate.He couldn’t be less interested in her wild phase.Yet, it was there, in his eyes, that glint of flirtation, that hint of desire.He was curious.Damn her for being curious too.
Except it was perplexing.Was he playing with her?If the flirtation could never become something physical, something meaningful, why bother with it?
“You still haven’t told me what you want me to do?”
“Want the PG-13 version?”
She laughed and slipped out from between him and the pool table to wander down the step into the living room.
“Yes, sheesh, you’re really going for the sleaze award, aren’t you?”
