Page 35 of A Smart Girl's Guide to Second Chances
‘Hoot, hoot,’ he replied, then smiled.
I noticed Fiona run her hands through her heavily highlighted hair. His chiselled jawline hadn’t been lost on her.
‘You’re wise, logical and analytical,’ she said. ‘You have a unique perspective and intense intellect.’
I groaned. His metaphorical feathers did not need any more stroking.
‘Do I need a she-owl?’ Alex asked.
Fiona practically swooned. ‘A special type of owl,’ she replied, her voice now an octave lower. She twirled a piece of her hair with a manicured finger. ‘Your personality type needs a counterpart who can challenge their ideas. They want to spend their life striving for intellectual mastery. They hope that the person they love will not just share this vision but be their greatest supporter.’
Neither Alex nor I responded. I knew what he was thinking.
‘So probably not a wolf then,’ I said finally.
‘Though they’re both nocturnal,’ Alex countered.
‘Actually, that’s a common misconception,’ I said primly. ‘What would an ENFJ be?’ I knew that was Matt’s personality type because he’d been subjected to almost as many of these tests as I had.
‘A dog,’ she replied.
‘I can see that,’ Alex said.
I glared at him.
‘Because they care very much about other people’s emotions, and always want to know how others are feeling,’ Fiona went on.
‘Mm. Caring, loving, spreading joy,’ I said thoughtfully.
‘A dog is the descendant of a wolf. The domesticated version. That’s interesting,’ Alex added.
Fiona looked at both of us, as if she knew that there was something slightly unusual happening in this exchange, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. ‘I might check in on the dolphin and monkey table,’ she said finally, and moved towards a group of animated people, including Miranda and Lucas, enthusiastically talking over each other.
‘What are you doing?’ I hissed at Alex as soon as Fiona walked away. ‘I thought we were going to be civil.’
‘You’re so angry,’ he said softly, almost to himself.
‘I’m not,’ I began, but trailed off before I finished my thought.
If anyone had asked me a week ago what I felt about Alex Lawson I would have said,Nothing at all. At the very most I would have said I felt a smidge of resentment or a hint of disdain. I might have added that I never wanted to see him again. But that was natural – who wanted to reacquaint themselves with a person who screwed them over? This was something I never understood about movies that had payback as the goal – why risk a future on avenging a past?
But since I’d been around Alex, it had become clear that he did stir up certain emotions: irritation, frustration and, the tabooest of female emotions, anger.
‘Yeah, okay, so maybe I am—’
I was interrupted by Fiona announcing the end of our breakout time. It was time to come together and discuss what we’d learned.
I ignored Alex for the rest of the morning. Lunch, which was pretty much the point of the day and where the actual bonding would happen, was at Doot Doot Doot, the hotel’s restaurant. It would be paid for by Miranda’s corporate card. It didn’t quite pass the logic sniff test to treat a company that was paying us enormous fees to lunch, but sometimes it seemed best not to question the inner workings of late-stage capitalism. A free multi-course lunch on a Monday was one of those sometimes.
The restaurant decor was part upmarket Australian winery, part Scandinavian ski chalet. Pieces of grey faux fur were casually draped across blond-wood furniture.
‘They’ve skinned some wolves. Watch out!’ Alex whispered in my ear, before he thankfully went to sit at the other end of the table, next to Miranda.
We’d been given a long table down the middle of the restaurant. I sat between the other consultants on our team, Lucas (personality type: ESFP / dolphin) and Adrian (personality type: ISTJ / cat). I was happy to have the chance, inan informal setting, to get to know them better before I ruined their lives by asking them to run models and fix up slides late into the night.
Our central table took up most of the dining room but there were still other people, mostly couples, dotted around. I felt guilty – I knew that a group like ours would suck up most of the oxygen in the room. We would drink expensive wine and order the most courses, and because we weren’t paying the bill, we wouldn’t treat it with the deference it deserved.
A waiter stood at the head of the table, cleared his throat and with a theatrical pause waited for us to give him our full attention.
