Chapter 7
“You’re actually into this a little, aren’t you?” I asked after the surge of excitement and adrenaline that flooded my bloodstream had subsided a little. Jeremy was competitive too. Excellent.
He shrugged. “I don’t know much about it. But I’m willing to learn.”
I narrowed my eyes on him. “You’d be competitive even about this?”
“Sure,” he replied. “I’m pretty competitive about most things. Ask your brother. He’s the only one who can beat me at poker, by the way. Dude’s like Rain Man.”
“Yeah, Luke’s always had a penchant for numbers. But the competition isn’t just whist. And whist is not exactly like playing poker.” I set aside my distaste for the fact that Jeremy obviously liked to play poker. He was Luke’s buddy. Of course he liked to play poker. Strike two against my Future Husband Checklist.
Jeremy pushed his beer glass back and forth between his hands on the table. “My dad always taught me if you’re going to do something, do it right.”
My dad had taught me that if you’re going to roll a joint (which I’d never done), you should start with the right paper. “That’s a great attitude,” I said, pushing away unwanted thoughts about my kooky parent. “I wish all my students thought like that.”
“Besides, it might be fun,” Jeremy added.
I nearly spit my Sprite. “Fun?” I choked.
He tilted his head to the side and gave me a curious smile. “Yeah, don’t you think it’s fun?”
My cheeks heated. “Of course I do, but I’m an unholy history nerd. I didn’t think you would think it’s fun.”
His face clouded for a second. “Why not?”
Uh-oh. “I don’t know. You’re a construction worker. You—”
“Correction, I’m temporarily a construction worker, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like history or have an appreciation of literature.”
“No, of course not.” Crap. I’d offended him. Luke was right. I was a judgey snob.
“You’re judging a book by its cover,” Jeremy continued.
I shrugged. “Covers are covers for a reason.”
“Wow.”
“Wow what?” My earlobes burned. I pushed my straw around my Sprite glass.
“I’ve never heard anyone disagree with that saying.”
I shrugged again. “We all judge each other and everything around us all of the time.”
He gave me a skeptical look and drained his glass. “You might.”
“You don’t?” I crossed my arms over my chest and returned his skeptical look.
“I try not to. For example, I thought nothing of the fact that you just used the word ‘penchant.’”
I took a sip of Sprite. “Mentioning it proves that you thought something about it. Admit it. You judge. Everyone does.”
He tilted his head to the side and contemplated me. “Fine. Go ahead and tell me what else you think about me...judging from my cover alone.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Oh, no way. I’m not falling for that.”
“Falling for what?” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled.
“I’ve been known to be a little too blunt at times. I should never tell anyone what I think about them from looks alone.”
He pushed back against the seat with a delighted smile. “Now you have to tell me.”
“What if I hurt your feelings?” Danger. Danger. Danger.
“My feelings?” He rolled his eyes. “I’m a grown man. I can handle it.”
“Really?” I wrinkled my nose.
“Really.”
All right. He asked for it. “Fine.” I eyed him up and down, at least the part I could see above the table. “I’d say you are a little too used to getting your own way based on your looks. Getting a few too many phone numbers slipped in the back pocket of your jeans, and doing what you want in life. You probably didn’t get great grades in school, and you don’t think rules apply to you, which is why you’re more interested in starting your own business than getting a real job. Unless, of course, you’re a felon, though Luke assures me you’re not.”
Jeremy’s eyes narrowed, but the hint of a smile still lingered on his lips. Hopefully I hadn’t pissed him off too much.
“I’m not a felon,” he replied simply.
“I believe you,” I said.
“Thanks for that, I guess. What do you mean by ‘doing what I want in life’?”
I shrugged again. “You know, leaving a mess for someone else to clean up, being a little too casual with other people’s feelings, not following rules, and maybe—”
“Changing careers at the age of thirty?” he offered.
My mouth dropped open. “You did that too?”
“Yeah, Luke and I made a pact.”
Oh great. He was flaky too. Strike three against the Future Husband Checklist. “Well, it just proves my point.”
“What point?”
“I’m sure you did something stoic and responsible before, and you quit to...what? Be a construction worker?”
He grinned and shook his head at me. “Something like that.”
I shrugged. “See?”
His eyes narrowed on me. “You’re never wrong, are you?”
Another shrug. “Rarely.” Sorry, but the truth was the truth. I’d spent my career battling sexist men for a place at their tables, and I wasn’t about to start pretending I wasn’t smart and capable now.
However, I needed to back out of this conversation immediately. Jeremy didn’t look hurt or pissed, but he was probably both. Men tended to have big, tender egos. Even Harrison did. He once asked me to edit a chapter of the history book he’d been writing, and didn’t speak to me for nearly two weeks after I let ‘er rip. And handsome men were worse. They were taught that the world revolved around them, so any little fragile nick to their egos was sure to end in a temper. My mom pointing out my father’s gambling debts never failed to set him off in a passive-aggressive mood for days at a time.
I decided the best way to change the subject would be to focus on our business discussion. “About the money, like I said on Saturday, I’ll pay for your expenses and give you five thousand after the competition is over, cash or check. Whatever you want.”
He chuckled. “A check is fine. You didn’t need to fill a suitcase with dollar bills or anything.”
I drummed my nails on the table. “Your choice.”
“Do I get a bonus if we win?”
A bonus? I blinked. I hadn’t thought of such a thing, and I wanted to kick myself. An incentive was a good idea. Especially if Jeremy was in any way shiftless like Luke. I needed to play it cool, though. “How much are you thinking?” I asked, wondering just how much of my savings I was willing to part with.
Jeremy leaned back against the booth and straightened his shoulders. “How about if you pay me four thousand, plus two if we win?”
I narrowed my eyes and folded my hands in front of me. Obviously, that put another thousand dollars on the table, but I liked the idea. “You’d do that?”