Page 42 of Speak of the Devil (New Hope 3)

“I’m a scientist.”

She laughs. “A scientist.”

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.”

“Clearly something is.”

“It’s just…you couldn’t sound more pretentious if you tried.”

She can’t stop laughing. My cheeks warm. Little does she know how much I hate being laughed at.

“What kind of scientist?” She recovers. “I mean…what do you research?”

“Chemistry.”

“Interesting.”

“And you? Let me guess… sales.” I study her for a moment, trying to gauge the best way to insult her without going too far. “Wait—No…a litigator.”

She laughs again. “What makes you think that?

“Attorneys are very good at evading questions they don't want to answer.”

“So are prostitutes.”

I choke.

“Funny.” I narrow my eyes. She’s messing with me. And she’s good. “A prostitute?”

“That’s right.”

“You mean people pay you to have sex with them?”

“Look at you,” she says sardonically. “Nailing the job description… I'm impressed.”

I can’t take my eyes off her.

“What?” She scoffs. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”

I lean away from the table. “I’m just shocked is all.”

“You’ve never paid anyone for sex, I take it.”

“Never had to.”

“That’s a lie.”

“I don’t lie.”

“Everybody lies,” she says, fingering the table linen. “And anyway, you pay for sex all the time: Every time you pick up a tab when you take a woman to dinner; every time you pay for a gift or flowers; every time you have a boring conversation you have no interest in. There are millions of ways people pay for sex. It's not always just money exchanging hands— although, if you ask me, that's certainly the easiest and least complicated way to go about it.”

I want to crack open her interesting skull and dissect her interesting brain. I want to study her in the lab. I want to study her wherever.

She sips her water and adds, “Or so I’ve found.”

“So that guy the other night? The short one.”