“Apparently I’m both indispensable and impossible to replace. Which I assume means they’ll be absolutely fine without me by next week.”
His mouth curves slightly. “Work thing, then?”
“Mm.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m an editor.”
“That fits.”
“I’m not sure how to take that.”
“You listen first,” he says. “Most people don’t.”
That lands a bit too cleanly.
I take another sip of my drink. “Careful. If you keep being observant, I’ll have to assume you’re interesting.”
“Bit of a risk.”
“It is.”
“Worth it?”
I meet his gaze. “Undecided.”
Something flickers there. Quick. Contained.
“You changing jobs?” he asks.
I hesitate, just for a second.
“Something like that.”
His eyebrows lift slightly. “Sounds intriguing.”
“I’m moving to Toronto.”
“Oh. When?”
“Wednesday.”
“That’s soon.”
“Alarmingly so.”
He exhales quietly, not surprised exactly, but like he’s adjusting something in his head.
“Not a small change, then.”
“No. I do like to commit to my bad decisions.”
That gets a proper smile. Dimples on full display.
I take another sip of my drink and immediately regret engaging at all.
This is how complications start.
