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“Uhh…wildlife expert.”
“Huh.Really?”
“What?” he asked. “Is that bad?”
She widened her eyes, just to fuck with him.
“Teresa,” he warned.
She clicked the selection, brought up the next question. “Okay, a TV anchor or a company controller?”
“What’s a controller?”
“Don’t ask me,” she said.
“Um, controller,” he replied.
“I thought you didn’t know what that was.”
“I don’t.”
“I see why you’re confused about the prospects of your career.”
He snorted. “Keep up with the sass, and I’m coming over there.”
She waggled her brows. “You promise?”
His chair slid back, and he started to get up.
“Wait!” He shot her a look. “We have more questions.”
“Is this where I say I don’t care about the questions?”
“Jeremy Hutchins, we are being serious here!” she snapped, but she was smothering a smile. Because he was relaxed and across from her, and she was making him laugh. “We are trying to determine your future.”
His foot brushed hers. “Ask your questions, baby.”
“Bookkeeper or electrician?”
“Electrician.”
“Accountant or history professor?”
“Accountant.”
“Writer or elected official?”
“Writer.”
That had her pausing. “Really?
He shrugged.
“What story would you tell?”
“One of a pushy feminine-hole who is determined to solve all my problems.”
Now she didn’t bother smothering her smile, she let it loose, along with her laughter.
