Page 101 of The Defiant Wife

"Yes." She finally locks her phone and folds her hands together."You said this date was so we get to know each other."

"I did."

"So we're getting to know each other properly."

I narrow my eyes."What exactly does that mean?"

"It means," she says proudly, "I've prepared a list of questions."

I blink. "You made interview questions?"

She points a finger at me."Yes, because if I leave the conversation to you, you'll answer everything with yes, no, maybe, or one thoughtful grunt."

"I don't grunt."

"You absolutely do. You have a conversational skill worse than a toddler somehow."I can't stop the laugh that escapes me.

She smiles to herself."Good," she says, unlocking her phone again. "Now that we've established you're capable of laughing, we'll begin."

I shake my head."Go on, interviewer."

She clears her throat dramatically."Question one."She looks at me over the top of her phone."What's the worst book you've ever finished?"

I don't even need to think."A five-hundred-page manual on nineteenth-century irrigation law."

She stares." . . . That's a real book?"

"It unfortunately is."

"And you finished all five hundred pages?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I don't leave things halfway."

I rest my elbows on the table."If I commit to something, I finish it. Doesn't matter if it's difficult, boring, or exhausting."

She studies me quietly for a second.Then she types something into her notes."Are you actually taking notes?"

"Obviously."

"What did you write?"

"Confidential."

"Trouble."

"No."

I sigh."I've never regretted agreeing to a date more."

"You'll survive."

"I always do."

She grins before moving to the next question."What makes you happiest?"