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“Steal files?”I make a face. “Please, Theo, give me some credit. I told you what I’m going to do.”
“Just a perfectly clean land deal?”
“As clean as these things ever are.”
She shows me the scowl I was waiting to see. It makes an adorable little line appear between her eyebrows, but otherwise, isn’t very scary at all.
“That is not reassuring.”
I look her in the eyes and tell her, with complete sincerity, “I promise, I won’t do anything illegal.”
“Is that a promise to me or a general rule?”
“A general rule—only uncreative people have to break the law. Besides,” I grin, “prison wouldn’t suit me.”
“Not enough salon-quality hair mousse?”
“You really have it out for my hair, don’t you?”
Theo’s eyes flick up to the offending part of my head, then down to the tabletop as she blushes furiously. “I don’t want to go to jail, that’s all.”
“Do you want to touch it?” I tease her.
“Oh, shut up,” she hisses. “You’re so full of yourself.”
It’s just another of Theo’s flimsy insults, but my smile slips. “You’d be surprised.”
Her eyes meet mine. She flinches, puzzled.
“Sorry,” she mutters.
“Nothing to be sorry for.” I brush it aside.
Her hands twist in her lap. She says, apologetically, “I’m stressed. I’m not cut out to be a spy, and I’m definitely not an actor.”
“You could be a mime…they’re expressive.”
Her cheeks glow like a sunset as she glares at me. “Ihatehow easily I blush and cry. Half the reason I love working in kitchens is that everybody’s flushed and teary-eyed in all the onions and steam.”
“What’s the other half?”
She blinks, soot-black lashes like fans sweeping the freckles that dust her cheeks. “I guess…I love the feeling of cooking. There’s a rhythm to it…,” her hands describe invisible shapes in the air, “…balance and timing. It’s delicate, like a dance. All the noise and chaos are waves in the ocean, and I sail right through.”
“That makes sense.”
“It does?” She sounds surprised.
“Sure. I love working with my hands.”
“In what way?” She’s half-disbelieving, half-curious.
“Woodworking, mostly.”
“Oh…,” she breathes. “I was right!”
“About what?”
Now her blush looks terminal. “When we danced, I thought you smelled like mahogany.”
