Page 38 of A Fool's Game

His smile quirks slightly to the side as he shakes his head slowly. “It’s nothing. He’s just establishing dominance on his turf. Which is well within his rights. He has to live there, after all. I’m just passing through.”

That statement has so many possible layers to unpack, I don’t even know where to start.

Luckily, or unluckily perhaps, Ainsley beats me to itand changes the subject.

“I never got to hear about your program and what your plans are at dinner.”

Back on safer territory, I’m disappointed, but also kind of relieved. “I’m in my last year of the publishing MFA program.”

“Ooh,” he replies. Actually, completely, interested. “Book publishing?”

I nod. “My undergrad was in creative writing, and I thought it would lead to an MFA in the same, but I ended up going for publishing. I want to write and edit, but I also really like the business side of things. I did a graphic design minor as well.”

“You’ll be on the hunt for the next Stephen King?”

I nod and smile. “Something like that.”

“You’re graduating this year.”

“I am. You as well?”

He nods. “I’m finishing my undergrad in Environmental Engineering.”

“Straight into grad school?”

Ainsley finally breaks eye contact as he sits back in his seat and shrugs. I get the feeling this isn’t the first time he’s gotten this question.

“Maybe. More likely I’m going to start an internship overthe summer and take a job when it’s offered. I’m happy I landed at this school, and I’ve learned a lot, but I should get to work.”

I decide to let the cocky assumption that he’ll just be offered a job at the end of his internship slide. Hell, he’s probably right to be so confident. “Work doing what?”

I see a flash of something I’d have to call hesitation in his eyes before he answers. “I spent a bit of time traveling in low and middle income countries before I started my degree, and I got really interested in water quality issues. Clean water is such an important infrastructure element for a community, but so many don’t have it. They carry water from sources far away, or rely on bottled water, or both. Water is such a basic thing that we don’t even think about it. I know I never did until I was in a place where you couldn’t drink it or wash anything with it. Then the problem is impossible to ignore. If you can’t water crops, you can’t grow food. If all the drinking water comes from plastic bottles, the garbage piles up. There are so many issues related to climate change that we’re trying to solve here in the States and other high-income countries while so many people in the world are really working against us, out of pure necessity. If we just took the time to help with clean water infrastructure, we could eliminate so much plastic production and waste on our planet.”

The words come out in a long, constant flow that has me both mesmerized and amused. “I didn’t take you for such a hippie.”

That smile again. His deep brown eyes crinkle at the corners as the expression lights up his whole face. I can’t help but smile back.

“Yeah, well. You and my father both.”

“He’s a lawyer right? Did he want you to follow in his footsteps?”

“Big time. I can tell you exactly how many universities have environmental law programs because I was sent a brochure for each and every one of them over the last few years.”

“But it’s not your thing?”

“I don’t want to sit in an office in New York and argue about these issues. I want to be on the ground, talking with people, and learning about how things really affect their lives. I think that’s the only way to find real solutions.”

The server arrives with two vintage, engraved crystal glasses and sets them on the table. I tap the floating rosemary sprig in mine as I consider his words.

Graduating from college and heading off to some far-off country to help install clean water infrastructure could certainly be interpreted as a new journey.

But I don’t want it to be.

Sorry, children dying of dysentery. I want his new adventure to be me.

I take a long sip of the sweet, strong cocktail to get my nerve back up. “I’m not going to lie, I’ll be a little disappointed if you disappear in four months.”

Ainsley sits forward and leans on the table once more, locking his intense gaze onto mine. “Well, nothing is certain.”

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