Page 14 of The Art of Falling in Love with Your Enemy
“An overthinker who knows magic,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows.
Etta shakes her head. “I wouldn’t advertise that.”
“If we have a talent show for the retreat, maybe you’d be my stunning assistant?”
She stares at me, serving up a perfect blank expression. “We’re not doing a talent show.”
“It’s not your retreat,” I challenge.
“But it’s at my campground.”
“Not your campground.” We really need some adult supervision here.
“Fiiiine.” Etta huffs out a giant breath as she turns her eyes toward the heavens. “If you want a talent show, then we’ll set something up, but no,” she says, holding up one finger. “I will not be your assistant.”
“Fine. I’m not a magician anyway.”
Etta picks her pen up again, printing the words “talent show” onto a blank page in front of her before she slowly drags her eyes to meet mine, with a tiny smile playing on the ends of her lips.
And I’m not prepared.
This. Woman. She’s like fried food—you know you shouldn’t eat it, but whatever it is, it’s going to taste good so you crave it. I understand this feeling because I’ve craved many things in my lifetime. Time alone, someone to hold, baseball cards…I feel things.
But right now, I’m feeling something new, something that at once takes my breath away as much as it blows life back inside of me. In this sheer millisecond of time, when Etta puts her pen down, cocks her head to one side, and stares at me, I feel like I’m seeing a wonder of the world for the first time—not that I’ve seen any of the wonders of the world or that I could name any right now, but I can Google it later.
When I think about the first night I met her, when my old roommate Reid tried to set us up on a double date, I thought she was gorgeous. Her eyes are a teal-blue I’d never seen before, and at that time, her hair was lighter. She was more of a strawberry blonde, not the dark auburn she’s changed to. The fact doesn’t escape me that I’m remembering every detail of meeting her for the first time like it was yesterday, and the thought makes me smile a grin so wide, I can feel it stretching from ear to ear.
I’m still lost in thought when Etta taps my hand.
“Hey,” she hisses, her voice authoritative. Or it could be frustration, not sure. “Are you even listening to me?”
“What?” Hoisting one shoulder, I feign innocence, struggling with the fact that I’ve probably been staring at her with my mouth wide open for the last sixty seconds or so.
Etta’s face contracts into tight lines, her teal-blue eyes swirling with thunderstorms now. I think we’ve got a tornado unleashing this time.
“I said, if you want to do a talent show and do it right, I can arrange for a stage to be put in the dining area, but I need to know today because I have to order it from the events company.” She eyes me, folding her arms stubbornly in front of herself.
“We don’t need a stage because we’re not having a talent show.” You know, I don’t think she’s a tornado this time because it’s hurricanes, I think, that are affected by the turning of air from hot to cold and back, causing turbulence in the atmosphere. Another tidbit I’ll need to research later. “I was joking.”
The moment she levies a glare my way is the moment I want to rewind the day and start over. To call said look poison-tipped is doing it a disservice because she has managed to get all of her thoughts and feelings into one stare. Deciding I’d rather have her for me than against me, I open my mouth to apologize, but I’m interrupted when Amelia and Lane rejoin us.
“We’re done here for now, Wright,” Lane decrees as he slaps me on my back. “I need to get back. I have a meeting in ten minutes and these two ladies don’t need us taking up any more of their time.”
“No trouble, Craig. It’s been nice talking with you,” Amelia all but purrs. She doesn’t wait for me to extend my hand before grabbing it and pumping it a few times. My back is to the picnic table, and when I turn around to say goodbye to Etta, I find her already up and making her way at a fast clip across the grass headed to the main building.
“Nice chat,” I say to no one as I grab my keys out of my pocket and trudge to my car.
We only have to work together for a few days, that’s all. I may be a glutton for punishment, but maybe…just maybe…I can figure out a way during our time together to get Etta to notice me.
Maybe.
SEVEN
Etta
Idon’t need persuasion to get my dogs in the car, like some people do. I just need to say two words. Two very important words that get these guys going every time.
Dog. Park.
