“Is it?” he repeated, and it took all of my self-control not to shove his chest and push his smug face away from me.
“I guess not,” I finally relented.
We continued in silence as I grabbed what I needed. Apparently, I had no self-preservation techniques because my brain continued to send messages to my mouth to make small talk.
“So, snowboarding. That’s an exciting career.”
His eyes grew wide in surprise before he tore them away from mine.
“You googled me?”
“My coworker had heard of you, so I might have done some research.”
“If you were any good at researching, you’d know I’m retired.”
“Well, it’s still impressive that you were able to do it professionally. You must be really good.”
“I used to be better. It’s all downhill once you’re in your thirties.”
“That’s not a very good attitude to have.”
He looked at me pointedly. “It’s just the truth.”
“I guess if you’re comparing yourself to a younger you, then sure. Our bones get creakier, and our muscles get sorer. But you were still one of the best in the world in your prime, and I’m sure you’re still, like, in the ninety-ninth percentile of snowboarders now. That’s something to be proud of.”
I didn’t know why I was yammering on about his snowboarding career, but the fact that he had responded with more than one word had sent me into a vocal frenzy. I was desperate to keep the conversation going.
That desperation was one-sided because Giles didn’t say anything after that.
I sighed and trudged through the aisle toward the clothing department. I threw a few sweaters into the cart and kept moving to outerwear. There were just a few coats to choose from, and only one appeared to be in my size. It was, unfortunately, neon orange with camo pockets.
“Shoot, not a very big selection.”
“Nothing here good enough for you?” Giles was resting an arm on the coat rack and staring down at me.
I balked at him. “That’s not what I meant. There’s just not a lot of options.”
“Sorry, it isn’t up to your standards.”
Stuffing the coat into the cart, I glared at him. “What are you even talking about? I’m from Florida. That in no way makes me a snob, or rich.” I angrily marched on. “And you’re one to talk, Mr. hot-shot-professional-snowboarder. You’re the one that probably thinks this place is beneath him.”
As if on cue, one of the workers walked up to us. “Hey Giles, twice in one week, huh?”
“Yeah, man. Just one of those weeks.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever, that doesn’t prove anything.”
A smirk started to form on his lips before he coughed to disguise it.
After I grabbed a pair of black rubber-soled boots, we hit the checkout line. The rest of the transaction happened without either of us speaking a word. Why should I bother trying if he was so determined not to be polite?
Back at the car, I stuffed my purchases into his trunk. I climbed into the passenger seat and prepared myself for another uncomfortable drive.
He slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine. The cool air blasted from the vents, and I began to shiver.
“Why does it take so long for the heat to get going?” I asked through chattering teeth.
“The car engine has to heat up, Einstein.”
