I wanted more of it.
My pulse rioted through me as I listened to her speak, like sparks flashing from a soldier's .45, representing the terror I felt that she might at any second, stop opening up to me.
Until she asked me, “What about you? What do you do?”
And then my heart beat became a Vesuvius on the verge of erupting.
I’d given the answer so many times, it came more naturally than breathing.
But I couldn’t call myself a “businessman” and lie to her.
Not even a half lie.
No way.
So I chickened out, lifting the cuff of my sleeve, checking my watch, “Damn. I completely lost track of time being with you. I’m sorry but I have an engagement in just fifteen minutes. Let me take you home.”
Her soft eyes grew sharp and assessing the moment I said “engagement”.
“Let me carry this for y
