Falling for My Enemy: A Hot Romantic Comedy (Dirty Martini Running Club) by Kingsley Claire

Falling for My Enemy: A Hot Romantic Comedy (Dirty Martini Running Club) by Kingsley Claire

Author:Kingsley, Claire [Kingsley, Claire]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Always Have, LLC
Published: 2020-01-23T00:00:00+00:00


22

Hazel

“Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood. Now is the time to understand more, so that we may fear less.” Marie Curie

T his wasn’t going to work.

I’d already decided before even catching a glimpse of Corban’s questionnaire. Oh, I was answering his questions. I was even being honest. But it wasn’t going to create, or accelerate, intimacy between us. And it certainly wasn’t going to make me fall in love with him.

Fifteen questions in—halfway through—and I was holding strong.

Mostly.

The initial questions had led us to discuss things like our most prized possession, our fears, or lack thereof, when it came to public speaking, and whether or not we liked spoilers when we watched movies or TV shows. Incidentally, we agreed that the thrill of discovery was worth the anxiety of not knowing the ending, even when the storyline was dramatic or tense.

I could sense the methodology behind the questionnaire. Some were easy to answer: What do you find relaxing? I’d answered baking; he said rock climbing. Seemingly innocuous tidbits of information to share with another person. But every question we answered sparked a mini-conversation. What was it about baking that I found aided in stress relief? Why did rock climbing, which was an intense physical activity, provide an experience that was relaxing? And why had neither of us said something more passive, like reading or getting a massage?

And every time we moved on, it was easier to answer the next question. If we’d started with If you could plan your own funeral, what would it include? , I doubt either of us would have been able to answer honestly. But by the time we got to that question—number eleven—it was like we’d been primed to answer. Our conversation flowed so easily, I found myself sharing things I wouldn’t have under different circumstances.

With the way Corban blinked in surprise at some of the things he said, I wondered if he felt the same way.

However, learning things—even interesting things—about him wasn’t going to change my mind. About anything.

“If you were suddenly independently wealthy, what would you change about your life?” he asked, reading from his laptop screen.

“I’d move. My apartment is adequate, but I’d enjoy having more space. And no one living above or below me.”

“Is that all?”

“I suppose there would be changes to my professional life, but I’d still do research. What about you?”

He paused and nodded silently, like he was working through his thoughts before speaking. “Money means security. It means being in control of your own destiny. I’d move, too—not because I can’t afford to now and more money would make it possible, but because I’d know that I can stay where I am for as long as I want.”

“Have you moved a lot?”

“We moved around a few times when I was a kid. Not enough that it was excessive, but enough that I didn’t have a childhood home. As an adult, I’ve always followed my career, moving when I got a new job.



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