worried you’re a little too held together, like you can’t allow any cracks in the persona.”
She did not like this conversation one bit. How dare he start poking fun at her? She was supposed to be managing a project for his company. Period. The End. But he didn’t seem to care that she was frowning and practically stomping on the sidewalk next to him.
“I mean, what if you don’t make partner? Then what? Can you dye your hair purple then?”
“I don’t want purple hair,” she practically shouted, shocked that this virtual stranger was getting under her skin when, on a normal day, diligent reporters didn’t ruffle a feather on her. “And I will make partner.”
He froze while she kept storming ahead, and he called after her. “Do you want to make partner?”
She stopped and spun on the ball of her foot to walk back to him. “Of course I want to make partner. What else would I do?”
“That’s a good question.” He smiled at her. Because of the slope of the hill, they were nearly at eye level.
Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. She felt like a bowling pin smacked by the ten-pound ball. Never had she expected in-your-face honest conversation like this when she’d agreed to dinner with a firefighter. In the last six years she’d consented to go to dinner with a tiny handful of men. Men who kept conversation to a polite discussion of favorite vacation spots and war stories about not getting a flight upgrade on business trips. They never made her feel they were peeling her skin back to look into her soul. They never made her feel her scars were showing as Jason was doing.
He asked again softly, “What would you do if your fairy godmother came down tomorrow, waved her wand, and granted you a career doing anything?”
She laughed a little unsteadily. “You’re being fanciful. I didn’t peg you for a fanciful type.”
He didn’t look ashamed, only curious. No one had ever asked her such a question, but maybe because she’d never let them. She’d set her goals from an early age, got on her path, and never deviated.
“What would you do,” he asked again, “if you could do anything?”
She decided to give the question the thought it deserved. “I’d be a dolphin trainer at an aquarium or a street artist hawking my wares on the sidewalk for dollar tips.”
He smiled at her. “What else?”
This was becoming fun. “I could be a sign spinner, and I’d spin the heck out of my Going out of business sign.”
“You sure would. Your spins would be so phenomenal, they’d put that company right back in business.” There was his dangerous charm again. Women likely tripped in their haste to rip their panties off while chasing after him. Too bad for him, she wouldn’t be one of those women.
To her shock, she broke the lighthearted joking with something that had been floating in the very back of her mind for a few months now. “Or I could be a PR specialist for a more worthy organization. Like for a literacy charity or women’s rights group, because sometimes it’s hard repairing the images of people who don’t deserve it, for people who really are jerks.” She broke off the flood of words. She’d never said it out loud before.
Helping others wasn’t something she’d known she liked until she’d started volunteering through her firm’s charitable efforts six months ago. To her shock, she’d connected with the children she’d tutored in reading, and had found herself wanting to do more than to only help the kids with their phonics skills. She’d found herself questioning the clients her firm took on and wondering about her own moral code when, day in and day out, she went to the media to metaphorically dig slimy people out of the swamp. More and more, she was starting to think some of these people deserved to drown in the mire.
Jason stood close enough to touch, but they both kept their hands to themselves. He didn’t take advantage of her reeling at this revelation. She shook
She did not like this conversation one bit. How dare he start poking fun at her? She was supposed to be managing a project for his company. Period. The End. But he didn’t seem to care that she was frowning and practically stomping on the sidewalk next to him.
“I mean, what if you don’t make partner? Then what? Can you dye your hair purple then?”
“I don’t want purple hair,” she practically shouted, shocked that this virtual stranger was getting under her skin when, on a normal day, diligent reporters didn’t ruffle a feather on her. “And I will make partner.”
He froze while she kept storming ahead, and he called after her. “Do you want to make partner?”
She stopped and spun on the ball of her foot to walk back to him. “Of course I want to make partner. What else would I do?”
“That’s a good question.” He smiled at her. Because of the slope of the hill, they were nearly at eye level.
Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. She felt like a bowling pin smacked by the ten-pound ball. Never had she expected in-your-face honest conversation like this when she’d agreed to dinner with a firefighter. In the last six years she’d consented to go to dinner with a tiny handful of men. Men who kept conversation to a polite discussion of favorite vacation spots and war stories about not getting a flight upgrade on business trips. They never made her feel they were peeling her skin back to look into her soul. They never made her feel her scars were showing as Jason was doing.
He asked again softly, “What would you do if your fairy godmother came down tomorrow, waved her wand, and granted you a career doing anything?”
She laughed a little unsteadily. “You’re being fanciful. I didn’t peg you for a fanciful type.”
He didn’t look ashamed, only curious. No one had ever asked her such a question, but maybe because she’d never let them. She’d set her goals from an early age, got on her path, and never deviated.
“What would you do,” he asked again, “if you could do anything?”
She decided to give the question the thought it deserved. “I’d be a dolphin trainer at an aquarium or a street artist hawking my wares on the sidewalk for dollar tips.”
He smiled at her. “What else?”
This was becoming fun. “I could be a sign spinner, and I’d spin the heck out of my Going out of business sign.”
“You sure would. Your spins would be so phenomenal, they’d put that company right back in business.” There was his dangerous charm again. Women likely tripped in their haste to rip their panties off while chasing after him. Too bad for him, she wouldn’t be one of those women.
To her shock, she broke the lighthearted joking with something that had been floating in the very back of her mind for a few months now. “Or I could be a PR specialist for a more worthy organization. Like for a literacy charity or women’s rights group, because sometimes it’s hard repairing the images of people who don’t deserve it, for people who really are jerks.” She broke off the flood of words. She’d never said it out loud before.
Helping others wasn’t something she’d known she liked until she’d started volunteering through her firm’s charitable efforts six months ago. To her shock, she’d connected with the children she’d tutored in reading, and had found herself wanting to do more than to only help the kids with their phonics skills. She’d found herself questioning the clients her firm took on and wondering about her own moral code when, day in and day out, she went to the media to metaphorically dig slimy people out of the swamp. More and more, she was starting to think some of these people deserved to drown in the mire.
Jason stood close enough to touch, but they both kept their hands to themselves. He didn’t take advantage of her reeling at this revelation. She shook
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