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24
Know Your Audience
He was talking to the girl behind the fresh fish counter. It was the first timeIhad approachedhim. I stood beside him and peered in at the fillets, trying to decide if I liked fish. The salmon was a pretty colour.
“Shame they don’t have trout,” Suit Guy said as if my being there was expected and perfectly normal.
“I’ve never tried trout,” I admitted.
He placed a hand on his chest and made a shocked sound. “No!” he gasped, making me smile. “Never tried trout! Sacrilege!”
“Isn’t it . . . fishy?” I asked.
“Fishy?” His eyebrow arched, his lips twitched. “Not ifIcook it,” he boasted.
“And how do you make it less . . . fishy?”
“Simple. It’s how you care for the fish; from the moment you play it in the river to the moment you prepare it for dinner. It takes talent.” He winked.
I tried not to laugh.
“Stick around, Trolley Girl,” Suit Guy said. “I might just make you my signature trout dish.”
“What’s so special about it?”
“It’ll blow your mind. Succulent orange flesh. Melt in your mouth portions. You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted my trout.”
I smiled, but I think it might have dimmed.
“Seen any good movies lately?” he asked.
I blinked at the segue.
“Read any good books?” he added.
“I’m writing one,” I said, surprising myself at the admission. I immediately blushed.
“No way!” Then he leaned forward and smirked, eyes shining. “‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ kinda book?”
“Maybe,” I hedged.
“Would I like reading it?”
“I don’t know. What do you normally read?”
“Mysteries. Thrillers. I like a complex tale.”
“I have elements of suspense in mine.”
“Good,” he said, accepting the paper-wrapped fish fillets he’d ordered from the girl. “Suspense is the key.”
“I’m not sure I know what the key is,” I admitted.
He paused. Stared down at me.
“The key, Trolley Girl, is whatever makes the reader feel.”
“Just feel?”
