Page 30 of The Secret
“Fuck around a lot? What’s that supposed to mean? People who have a lot of sex are terrible humans?”
“No! I’m not even talking about actual…fucking,” I said, though I knew that was part of it. “You don’t take anything seriously.”
“I assure you, I take fucking very seriously.”
“Like the market the other day,” I said, ignoring him. “You juststrolledin when the morning was half over.”
“Strolled.” Con laughed. “Honestly? Is that the best you’ve got?”
“It’s indicative of a larger problem,” I said, sounding all kinds of self-righteous again.
“My car broke down Saturday morning. Transmission is shot.”
“What?”
“My mother has no clue. And she’d better not find out,” he added in a warning voice. “She’s got enough on her plate dealing with the guy who’s trying to steal her contracts and run her out of business.”
Fuck. This explained so much of what I'd overheard.
I ignored that too. “But the whole morning at the market you were so—” I bit the inside of my cheek. “Cheerful. Making jokes.”
“Because I knew otherwise you’d be giving me those smug, superior looks from across the aisle. And I know exactly what you’d be thinking.Constantine’s fucked up again.”
I winced because that was pretty much exactly what I’d thought. “Since when do you care what I think?” I demanded.
He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “I don’t. I just figured I’d give you shit before you could dish it out to me. Besides, would it do any good to cry and mope around like a victim?” He shrugged. “Gotta find the happy in life or you’ll spend your whole day bawling. Why not make a stupid joke and laugh off the bad stuff?”
I stared at the road silently, unable to think of a good reason, except… “You can’t expect people to think well of you if you don’t correct them when they assume you’re a flake.”
“Because I’m responsible for people’s assumptions? Nah. I stopped expecting people would give me the benefit of the doubt a while ago. I, ah, got in some trouble when I was a teenager.” He paused expectantly.
“I’ve heard that,” I confirmed. “Nothing specific, though.”
“Yeah, well. Someday when you’re bored, I’ll give you the whole story. Your opinion of me probably can’t get any lower anyway.” He snickered. “Anyway, when people look at me, they see that same kid. Can’t blame them, I guess. Big mistakes have big consequences, and people forgive, but they don’t forget, especially around here. So someday I'll be hobbling down Weaver, dying of appendicitis, and they'll be all ‘Constantine, stop joking around!’” He laughed and shook his head. “But at least I’m pretty. So people still like having me around.” He batted his eyelashes.
I made a skeptical noise.
Constantine laughed again, then sobered.
“Being serious, though. I don’t like negativity. I used to have a temper. I used to get really riled. Bullshit like that back at the warehouse…” He hooked a thumb toward the road behind us. “It brings me back to that place, and I don’t like it. So I focus on the positive and ignore the negative.”
“Can you do that?” I asked, genuinely curious. “How?”
“Sure. Told you the other night, Teflon skin.”
“Yeah, but… What happens when the thing you want to ignore is in your own head? Not someone else's opinion, but your own?”
“When the call is coming frominside the house? I dunno. Never happens to me.” He shrugged.
“Be serious. Teflon doesn’t help you when the unhappy person isyou.”
Con smiled. “You’re cute when you psychoanalyze me.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re changing the subject.”
“I’mfocusing on the positive,” he insisted, his blue eyes sparkling. “Literally, the only enjoyable part of this conversation is seeing your big, strong hands on the steering wheel and the way your face gets all gorgeous and stern when you try to figure me out.” He bit his lip and his eyes went half-lidded.
Mybig, strong handsflexed on the steering wheel and I nearly groaned. Had the debacle at the warehouse today not been enough to convince me that Constantine was a distraction I could not afford?
