“My name. It’s about the first time you’ve used it.”
That couldn’t be true. Could it? “You’re confusing me. I haven’t even started and you’re confusing me.”
“You’re worried about what’s happening between us. Is that right?”
Relieved to begin, she took a breath. “While I find you attractive, and I enjoyed having sex with you, I’m not willing to engage in a relationship.”
“You already have.”
“I—what?”
“This is a relationship, Abigail, so you’ve already engaged in one.”
“I didn’t intend to. I’m not willing to continue to engage in a relationship.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’m flattered by your interest, and I’ve enjoyed our conversations. However, my work requires a great deal of time, and complete focus. I prefer not to be distracted, and believe you require a more amenable and socially oriented companion.”
He took a sip of wine. “Did you practice that?” He pointed at her. “You did.”
Every inch of her body stiffened with mortification. “I fail to see why the fact that I wanted to be certain I articulated my thoughts and opinions clearly is amusing to you.”
The arctic tone of her voice did nothing to dim his grin. “I guess you’d have to be standing on my side of the room.”
“That’s just another way to say point of view, which is your rationale for a great deal.”
“Yeah, it counts a lot to my way of thinking. Abigail, I figure you had to work on that little speech awhile, because most of it’s just bullshit.”
“If you’re incapable of having a rational discussion, you should go.”
Wineglass in hand, body angled back to the counter, he remained as relaxed as she was rigid. “You weren’t planning a discussion. You were going to orate your practiced speech, then I was just supposed to mosey along. If you want meout, Abigail, then I think you’re going to have to tell me what’s bothering you, what you’re afraid of, and what you feel.”
“I said I wasn’t interested.”
“But you’re not being truthful. I don’t want to be with a woman who doesn’t want to be with me. So if that’s the case here, tell me, give me enough courtesy and respect to explain it, and I’ll grill up the steaks. We’ll have a decent meal, and I’ll go. That’s about as fair as I can make it.”
“I told you. My work—”
“Abigail.”
There was a world of patience in the word, and it lit a fire under her.
“Why doesn’t anything go the way it’s supposed to with you? Why can’t you respond logically? I can’t have a discussion with someone who refuses to be rational.”
“At the risk of setting you off, from where I’m standing I’m being about as rational as anyone could.”
“Then stop.”
“Stop being rational?”
She threw out her hands. “I can’t think!”
“Answer this. Do you have feelings for me?”
“I don’t want to.”
“I take that as a yes, qualified. Why don’t you want to?”
