“I’m not worried,” she said, too quickly.
“You look worried.”
She relaxed a bit and smoothed her hair. “Do I?”
I laughed.
She sighed and finished her crab cake.
“So,” I said, “I basically just told you my life story. Or did you want me to go back more than five years in my dating history?”
“If you want to,” she said vaguely.
“Or you could tell me a little about yours in return.”
Instead of doing that, Danica looked around for our waiter. It was like every time the conversation turned back to her, she started running down the clock so she could get the fuck out of here.
I decided to take it as a good sign.
Any chick who brought me an antique ring, tried not to let me hire her, admitted she was trying not to flirt with me, looked at me the way she did, and wanted to get away from me this badly… really wanted to stay.
“Or, if that’s too personal, you could just tell me what you think of everything I just told you,” I suggested.
“I mean, it’s your life,” she said. “It’s really none of my business, Ashley.”
“But you have an opinion.”
“On your life? Not really.”
“Bullshit.”
“Honestly.”
“Nope. As my ‘friend,’ you have an opinion. Tell me what you think.”
Danica cleared her throat and looked around again, but our waiter was nowhere to be seen. “The appetizers were incredible. I hope the entrees come soon. I’m hungry.”
Sure she was. I was already feeling halfway full myself. The portions were hardy. “Tell me what you think, Danica Vola.”
She looked at me, and I could sense the exact moment when she gave in. “Okay,” she said. “It sounds like you keep falling in love with the wrong people? Like, people who don’t love you back. And then you expect it to work. But that won’t ever work.”
“Wise.” And a little too accurate.
“You seem to think you’re broken, that these people broke you? Something like that? You mention it over and over, having your heart broken.”
“Do I?”
“But maybe you’re not really broken, Ashley.” Her eyes locked with mine. “There’s nothing to fix. You’re perfect just the way you are.” Her eyes went wide. “I—I mean, you’re good. You’re fine. You’re fine just the way you are.”
“Glad you think so. And if that’s the case, I’m still not clear on why we can’t fuck.”
Her cheeks were turning pink again. “Because you’re my client.”
“That mean you’ll take the job?”
“Yes,” she said, but before I could even enjoy it, she added, “Madeleine will be happy.” Like she was just doing this for her aunt or something.
“Great.” I dug the set of keys I’d brought for her from my pocket and put them on the table, right next to the ring, which was still sitting there. “Keys to my place. You can let yourself in.”
