Determined to keep off that particular subject, I redirect the conversation. âWeâre not talking about me, weâre talking about what you did in boarding school.â
âNo, I was talking about you and why you missed class. You steered the conversation away from that subject and onto the topic of my childhood misadventures.â Will points toward an open booth near the window. âAnd donât think youâll get away with it. Iâll be happy to recount the terrible fate of Madam Fraserâs liberated rabbits after weâve covered the topic of Maggie Blackâs ideal customer impression.â
A spindly, underfed college student sulks over and plants a pair of menus onto the table. Unable to read anything in these glasses, I pull them off and begin looking for the dessert page. Heâs about to launch into his rendition of todayâs specials when he gets a clear look at my face. My face, which Iâve forgotten Iâve just unveiled. âWhoa, lady, duck next time, okay? Man, what hit you?â he says, cringing right down to his snake tattoo and rock concert T-shirt.
All right people:
1) Iâm too young to be called âladyâ by college students.
2) Reminders of my current appearance are unwanted.
3) It was entirely unnecessary for his lordship to butt in and growl, âThatâs clearly none of your concernâ in such an intimidating high-and-mighty accent that our server backs away without so much as pouring us a cup of coffee.
I slam my hands onto my hips. âI can take care of myself, you know.â
âWhat an appalling thing to say. Heâs supposed to be serving you, not insulting you.â
Did he hear me at all? Testosterone-based hearing loss? Hello? âAnd who said youâre supposed to be protecting me? I could have handled Mr. Tactful just fine on my own. You just said yourself how feisty I am.â I put my sunglasses back on.
âIâm not being protective. He was rude. Youcould have been an army general and I would have responded the same way.â
I donât believe that for a minute. âYou would not,â I counter in my best little-sister-fights-back tone. Suddenly all the overblown fussing Iâve received in the past week boils up inside my independent head. âYouâre coddling me because Iâm a girl. Because I got this, â I say, pointing to my face, âturning in one of your assignments and becauseâ¦becauseâ¦because youâve got all that genteel British stuff running around in your veins and you canât help it. And itâs annoying. Got it? Annoying. This is America, where women kick butt on a regular basis and the guys can handle it.â
The power banker comes roaring out of his features. He jabs a finger at the server âYou,â he commands, snapping the server to attention. âCoffee, black, two sugars,â He says pointing to my place setting. âTea, with milk and one sugar, very hot,â he says, pointing to himself. âYou,â he says, glaring at me so hard I gulp, âhave thirty seconds to take those ludicrous glasses off and narrow your list down to ten words starting now. â
âYou canâtâ¦â
âTwenty-eight, twenty-sevenâ¦â
Unfair, obnoxious, boorish, egotisticalâ¦
Chapter Nine
Two scarier thoughts
âH e didnât!â
Iâm sitting in my sister Cathyâs kitchen after work Monday, looking at photos of Charlie in his toad costume and relating the events of my sandwich with Will. âHe did. I swear I thought he was going to whip out a sword and defend my honor or something.â
âGuys like that still exist?â
âI know. Youâd think the male species would have left the I-must-protect-the-fairer-sex mind-set behind a couple of decades ago. I told him this is America, where the women can hold their own, thank you veryâ¦â
I stop mid-sentence
Joelle Charbonneau
Alexa Rae
Eliza Crewe
Rodolfo Peña
authors_sort
Belle Aurora
A. J. Hartley
Beverly Barton
Ben Ames Williams
Lynna Banning