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I dip my chin so my hair covers my features. "It’s not a big deal. Anyone else would’ve done the same."
"You have an incredibly busy life, an agency to run, and some very tricky PR disasters to mitigate, as we speak. In fact, if I asked you to pull out your phone, I bet I’d see innumerable missed calls, text messages, and an overflowing email inbox, and yet, you’re here sitting with me instead. Not once, have you glanced at your phone in all the time you’ve been talking to me. And I’ve heard it buzz."
I laugh. "I’m here because I wanted to see you. Of course, I’m not going to look at my phone while I’m talking to you. It would be disrespectful to do so, not to mention, discourteous."
She stares at me.
"What?" I scowl back.
"How many people do you think would say what you said just now?"
"I don’t know about anyone else. This is just my mindset, you know."
"Precisely." Her smile widens.
"Now what? Spit it out, woman. Clearly, you’ve spent some time thinking about this. Whatever it is." I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
"Actually, no, but you’re easy to read, at least, for me."
"Oh?" I incline my head.
"You hold your feelings in check, and think showing them is a sign of weakness."
"Isn’t it?" I shuffle my feet.
"See?" She jerks her chin in my direction. "That’s what I mean. Bet you have a gamut of emotions running through you right now, but to look at you, one would think you’re the very epitome of grace and beauty and sophistication. Which you are, of course—"
"Of course," I deadpan.
"It’s just… You don’t like showing your feelings to the outside world. Maybe not even to your close friends."
I shrug. And yet, I revealed more of myself to him than I intended.
"Hmm." She purses her lips.
"Now what?" I tug on my arm, and she releases it.
"It’s just—" She surveys my features.
"Just what?" I squirm a little, trying to find a more comfortable position. I would’ve never guessed Karma’s this insightful or this intuitive when it comes to sussing out the feelings of others.
"Just… When you meet the right man, you’re going to fall really hard." Her lips kick up, once more, in that smug smile. You know the kind—where someone who is married and has a baby smiles, hinting that they know a secret, something to which you’re not yet privy.
But even she doesn’t know exactly how much Hunter occupies my thoughts, and I plan to keep it that way. I wave my hand in the air. "That person does not exist."
"So they all say. I—" She winces.
I stiffen. "Are you okay? Do you need something? Should I call the doctor?"
"Stop, now you’re acting like my husband. It was just a twinge from the stitches."
I grimace.
She chuckles. "I bet, when it’s your turn, you’ll be the one to deliver without an epidural."
"God forbid I ever get pregnant," I exclaim in horror.
"And, I bet you’ll be back on your feet the next day."
