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Don’t get me wrong, it would be so easy to fall under his spell. I may not like him, but I’m also not completely immune to his charm either. I’m not sure anyone is. But I also have no desire to be one of the many women in constant rotation on his arm. I have more self-respect than that. So it doesn’t matter how many times he bats those long lashes at me or hits me with that cocky smirk. I will not play his game.
“Chicken.” He’s quick to answer, refocusing my attention.
“Favorite color?”
“Black.”
“Favorite movie?”
“Remember the Titans.”
“Of course it is.” I snort to myself.
“Something funny about that?”
When I finally glance up, I find him studying me intently, causing the butterflies fluttering in my stomach to break into a wild frenzy.
What can I say? He unnerves me. I think that has pretty much been made apparent.
“Just predictable, is all.”
“Let me guess, your favorite movie isThe Devil Wears Prada?” He crosses his arms in such a way that makes his shirt look like it’s about to split open at the seams.
Despite the irritation I try desperately to hang onto, a laugh bursts from my throat.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” The corner of his mouth twitches, like he’s trying to fight a smile.
“To be fair, I love just about any movie with Anne Hathaway in it.” I shift uncomfortably in my seat.
“It would seem I’m not the only predictable one among us.” He clucks his tongue against the roof of his mouth in an almost reprimanding type of way.
“Your favorite band?” I continue like nothing happened, eager to get back on track.
“I’m sorry, but what does any of this have to do with anything?”
“The project is getting to know my subject.”
“And asking me mundane things that tell you nothingrealabout me is helping you to know me better?”
I shrink inward, a tinge of embarrassment sinking into my pores.
“The things you like make up a big part of who you are,” I finally say.
“Do they? Or are you just trying to find the easiest way to get through this project? You know, if I thought you were one for taking shortcuts and cutting corners, I would have selected someone else. My time is very valuable.”
I go from nervous to angry in an instant.
“And mine isn’t?” I bite, my irritation palpable.
“You tell me.”
God, what I wouldn’t give to slap the smug bastard right across his stupid, perfect face right about now.
“This is part of the process.” I grind my back molars together. “If anyone is wasting time, it’s you. Now answer the question.”
“That depends.” He shifts on his stool.
“On?” I tap my pencil impatiently.
