“Nope.”
Damn. I grabbed a tissue and wiped the drops of coffee from my shirt. But they’d left a stain, and I’d have to soak them in my personal bathroom.
“I’ll be back, I need to change my shirt.” I undid the buttons.
“Show me.” The phone dinged, and his face appeared on screen.
Ohhh, this was progress. Should I preen for the camera? Pose like a body builder? I wasn’t one, but I had a decent set of abs and pecs.
Remy didn’t speak. Fuck, was he aghast? His gaping mouth suggested he was surprised, shocked even. I put the phone face down on the desk and slipped the shirt on, though I didn’t bother with the buttons.
“What just happened?” I picked up my device to see Remy shaking his phone. “Why did you do that?”
That was a good question? I’d been telling myself earlier I shouldn’t get embarrassed in front of almost strangers and I did exactly that with the person I cared about.
“I got shy.” That was a partial truth, or it could be classed as a fib.
“Come on, Hari. Be honest.”
Ouch, he was calling me out. “Okay fine. I took one look at your face and thought I didn’t measure up.”
“To what?”
Good question. “Ummm, to your standards?” I was fiddling with the buttons, trying to do them up with one hand. And I refused to look at Remy. My cheeks were burning because I was a fool.
“Look at me.”
I did as he asked, though I was wary of what I’d see in his eyes.
“Firstly I was gobsmacked at how gorgeous you are, but that’s not the point. Who gives a shit about anyone’s standard of beauty. To heck with that.”
He was right. That was something I’d have to work on, but for now, I wanted to change the subject. “I talk to myself out loud, kinda like reciting my to-do list.”
That shut Remy up. He’d been delivering a pep talk on confidence and not giving a damn about people’s impossible expectations, and I blurted out about one of my idiosyncrasies.
“That’s good to know. Do you hire yourself out? I could trash my online calendar and use you.” He pursed his lips, and damn him, he was jerking me around. “How does it work? Do you beep, ding, or buzz with a reminder?”
“Stop.” I giggled, and he bent forward and guffawed.
My belly hurt, and I lay down on the carpet, holding the phone above me.
“Now that’s a view I like.” Remy whipped off his shirt and got on the floor. “Where were we?”
“I was telling you something about myself that others might find odd, but it’s just how my brain works.” I outstretched my hand and got the cushion from the chair and tucked it under my head. The carpet wasn’t soft enough for my delicate head.
“I love that. Who wants to be like everyone else? I’m not interested in anyone who fits a cookie-cutter mold.” He slapped his belly. “We should embrace our quirks.”
“Your turn. Tell me something quirky about you.”
He didn’t frown, scowl, or quiver, but I sensed him pulling away as he did that night at dinner, and I imagined him being yanked by a long rope. But whatever tension he experienced vanished and his face came alive again. There was that familiar smirk I’d grown to love.
“I adore the smell of gum leaves.”
Most people in this country wouldn’t be familiar with those, but as a man whose life’s work revolved around wood, I understood him to be referring to eucalyptus.
“Me too.”
He held up a hand. “But I only like them when they’re attached to a branch.” He flicked his hand dismissively. “Served on a plate? No way.”
