“I think that’s what this must be. My old work.” Thea’s smile widened as she craned back to look up at me. “Sit down, will ya? You’re hovering.”
Now I’m on her loop.
“I love all things Egyptian,” Thea said. “Their history is so rich with the rituals and gods, the monuments and the romance. All good stories have a romance. Love. Without love, what’s the point?”
“Not my area of expertise,” I said slowly.
“No?” Her grin widened. “Not a romantic? Are you sure? You look like Marc Antony to me. Lots of armor on the outside, but on the inside…” She made a face. “Yikes. There I go again. I have zero filter, if you haven’t noticed. My sister is always telling me to tone it down, but I call it like I see it. Life is short, no?”
So short, Thea. Five minutes.
“You don’t say much do you, Jim?”
“Not much.”
“Am I talking your ear off?”
“No, it’s fine.”
/> It’s fine. Jesus.
“Jim, Jim, Jim.” Thea cocked her head. “Short for James, right? But you look more like a Jimmy to me. Jimmy with the kind eyes. Do you mind if I call you Jimmy?”
Why the hell that simple request sent my heart crashing, I didn’t know, but it felt as if she drew us together across years instead of minutes.
Be professional. Tell her to use Jim.
“N-N-No,” I said. “I d-don’t mind.”
Thea leaned over the table, compassion softening her features. “Do you have a stutter, Jimmy?”
I almost told her it only showed up when I was nervous or pissed off. Then she could ask if she made me nervous. She’d give that flirtatious laugh of hers, then tell me she didn’t mind that I stuttered, but to keep talking to her, and that my stutter wasn’t the most interesting thing about me…
God, this is fucked up.
It occurred to me that I could change the script. I could tell her anything. I could fuck with her, and in a few minutes, she’d have forgotten all about it.
The notion made my stomach roil.
A cruel person, a bully—a Toby—would fuck with her. He’d laugh at her confusion and fear and justify it for the same reason—she wouldn’t remember.
But I’d remember.
Someone needs to watch out for her.
“I stutter only sometimes now,” I said. “It was worse when I was a kid.”
“Did you get bullied for it?”
“Yeah, I did.”
Her lips curled in a scowl. “Fucking bullies,” she said. “I’m sorry, Jimmy. All bullies are cowards trying to hide their own weakness by directing attention to someone else.” She glanced at me. “That doesn’t make what you endured easier, does it?”
“It happened. Nothing can change it now.”
“Tough guy, are you? Like Marc Antony. A stoic soldier, but your eyes give you away.”
I coughed. Redirect.