Page 36 of Homewrecker
I took a sip of water. “You’re joking, but I’m listening.”
“I can tell.”
“Good.”
He glanced toward the little timer. “We have two minutes left.”
“Then answer quickly.”
He laughed.
“What do you do?” I asked.
“I’m a clinical psychologist.”
I almost choked and he noticed. “Problem?”
“No.”
“You made a face.”
“I did not.”
“You definitely did.”
“I just think psychologists at speed dating is weird.”
“How?”
“You can diagnose everyone.”
He smiled. “That’s not how it works.”
“That’s exactly what a psychologist would say.”
He tilted his head. “What do you do?”
“Interior design.”
“Residential?”
“Both. Mostly high-end residential and commercial.”
His eyes lit with genuine interest. “What do you like better?”
The question surprised me. Not How much do you make? Do you decorate houses? Or can you come do mine?
“What?”
“Commercial or residential?”
I looked down briefly. “Commercial.”
“Why?”
“It’s less emotional.”
He paused. “Really?”
Novels you may like ...
