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She let out a whisp of a laugh. “Listen to me, goin’ on and on. Bottom line: to me, you can learn a lot about a person by what they do.”
“If I admit you might be right, can you do me a favor?”
She all but beamed, lifting her chin. “I love bein’ right, so yes.”
I shook my head as I examined the ground between us. No shortage of confidence with this one. My family would get a kick out of her.
“Since I don’t know how to dissect all that from a person’s job,” I started, pushing off the wall so I came to my full height before her, “will you agree to tell me stuff that has nothin’ to dowith work? See, I’m on... vacation, and work is the last thing I wanna think about right now.”
She blinked up at me with a knowing grin. “Oh, boy. See? I just learned somethin’.”
I raised an eyebrow as she began walking a slow track around me as I stood in place, wishing I could do a full three-sixty with my head like that old horror movie.
“I bet you work the kind of hours most people would cringe at,” she guessed from behind me.
“Sure do.”
“I’m sensin’ you feel a little... obligated, maybe?” she went on as she reached my side. “You seemed resigned to the idea of gettin’ back to work, but not like you wish you didn’t have to.” She narrowed her eyes as she returned to my front and looked up. “Which makes me think you’re loyal.”
Bewildered and enchanted at the same time, I could only stare.
“What?” she asked.
“You got all that from what I just said?”
“Maybe I just pay attention.”
Amused beyond measure, I snorted. “Red, it’s my job to pay attention. But you sound like you might be a therapist.”
She wasn’t, of course, but it was no wonder Laney’s music career had taken off as soon as this woman had come aboard. She was like a hurricane wrapped in sunshine, and I had a feeling there wasn’t a thing in this world she couldn’t get done if she put her mind to it. I didn’t know her name, but I knew that much.
“Sometimes I feel like one, but no. Hey, I thought we were gonna steer clear of job talk?”
I held out my hands. “You’re the one who kept that train rollin’.”
“True.” She tilted her head, a coy smile forming on her full lips. “So, fine. What else do you wanna know about me, Blue?”
I cringed at the nickname, but I was on a mission. “I’ll listen to whatever you wanna tell me. I’m not picky.”
“There’s somethin’: Iampicky. But I like to think of it like I know what I want.”
I hummed, nodding slowly. I liked that.
And now that she’d turned our walk into something of a personality test packaged up like flirting, I realized I liked the challenge of it. I liked needing to dig things up about her from what she little she bluntly stated.
She might’ve thrown me off balance with all that beauty and charm in the beginning, but I still had a keen eye, and I liked puzzles.
“What kinds of things are you picky about?” I asked.
“Fabrics. I like them soft, never with tags. I love muted tones or black. I would never decorate with bright, bold colors.”
I nodded along as she described her preferences, then frowned. “I would’ve guessed the opposite.”
“Really?”
“Red’s a bright color.” I gestured to her gown.
“It’s notfire enginered. It’s darker.” She smoothed her hands over the fabric, and I caught a whiff of her perfume.
