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I mumble it, but I’m certain he heard it.
“Maybe, but it definitely wasn’t a middle name I loved when I moved here in fourth grade.”
He did hear me.
“Kids can be little shits to each other.”
“It didn’t help that I didn’t stay small for long. I was tall for my age by the time I was five. At ten, I was the same height as some fourteen-year-olds I knew. I was athletic too, but that made it worse. No one believed I should compete in my age group, and none of the older kids wanted an elementary school kid on their teams.”
This conversation is keeping the ride from being boring, but I feel like I should share something about myself before it becomes one-sided. I don’t want him to regret sharing.
“I was the opposite. I was an eight-pounds, eleven-ounce baby, but I seemed to stop gaining weight when I was four months old. I kept getting taller, but I didn’t gain weight. I was skinny until I was twelve and grew like eight inches that year. I was taller than all the other girls at five-feet-two. Then I had another growth spurt at fourteen, almost fifteen, and got to my current height. How tall are you?”
“Six-feet-four-and-three-quarters.”
He is a giant.
“You?”
“Five-nine-and-a-half.”
I’m taller than average. If I were thinner, I would have been the perfect height to model. Not that I have the looks for it. But I’m in that ambiguous area of not being regular size or plus size. Some of my clothes are regulars, and some are plus size. Most don’t fit well except for my suits. I get them altered. I guess my adult weight caught up. Heavy baby, heavy woman. But I’m good with it. I’m comfortable in my body. It took years to get there, but I’m happy that I don’t worry about it anymore.
“That’s a good height.”
“For what? I don’t play basketball or volleyball.”
His eyes dart to my lips. I can’t help it. The tip of my tongue peeks out and swipes across them. His gaze meets mine, but it’s shuttered. For once, I truly don’t know what he’s thinking. Does he regret looking at my mouth like that? Regret me realizing he was? Am I totally making it all up in my mind?
“When will my security detail start? I get you coming along today because someone might have seen me leaving your family’s office. But no one knows I’m working for you. I’m not the attorney on record yet.”
“It starts today. I’ll be outside your place until midnight. Either Vinny or Luigi will relieve me until you leave for work. I’ll be in the car tomorrow, but someone else will escort you to and from whatever office or courtroom you’re in.”
“I have plans tonight.”
I wince.
“A date?”
Was there something in his tone?
“Yes.”
“Are you involved with someone?”
“No. We’ve only been out twice before. He was going to pick me up.”
“Then I follow you. Where are you going?”
“Constantine’s for dinner, then Spotlight after.”
“Good thing my family owns both.”
“What?”
“Lorenzo Mancinelli owns both of them. We’re like cousins. Sort of. But not by blood or marriage. Remember how I said our family tree is complicated?”
“Yeah.”
