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“Of course it is.”
She shakes her head and looks down again. “We’ll never fool anyone. I was wrong to think we could.”
“Hey.” I put a hand under her chin and raise her face to mine. “An NYU grad and a Columbia grad with business and finance degrees. Surely two smart people like us can—”
“Medieval Lit.”
“Huh?”
She sighs. “That was my major. Four years of Beowulf and Chaucer, and do you know what happens when you graduate?”
“Well—”
“Nothing happens. There are zero jobs for people who study Medieval Lit. They end up waiting tables. Working at Walmart. And they take out loans so they can go back to school for a year to study…”
“Business,” I say.
She sighs. “Yes.”
“Maybe it’s karma,” I tell her. “That some of us think we know what we want to study until it turns out we were wrong. I mean, I studied business. Well, finance, to be exact. And when I graduated, there were lots of jobs, all right, but it turned out it wasn’t anything that made me happy.”
“And building houses does?”
“Yeah.”
She manages a wobbly smile. “I thought I was the only person who wasted four years.”
“You didn’t waste anything.”
“Of course I did.”
“Did you enjoy Medieval Lit?”
“Yes, I loved it.”
“Then studying it wasn’t a waste.”
“Cousin Violet said—”
I put my finger across her lips. Man, her lips are soft!
“Never mind what Cousin Violet said. Life is short. If you find something that gives you pleasure, go with it.”
“So, how did that work for you? Did you at least get pleasure from studying finance?”
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“Yeah. I did. I have this thing for numbers, you know? They’re fun. And without that degree, I’d never have made enough money to quit and go back to school to study what I really wanted.” I run my finger lightly over her mouth. I’ve dated a couple of women with lips that you just know have been shot full of whatever that shit is that makes them plump. Touch those, it’s kind of like when you were a kid visiting your grandma and you’d sit down on the sofa and feel as if the cushions were going to swallow you.
Anyway, you get my meaning. Artificial softness isn’t so great.
Real softness is.
And my PA’s lips are real. And really, really soft. And her eyes are still damp, the lashes anyway, the very long, dark lashes…
I bend my head and kiss her.
An easy kiss. A tender one.
