Page 23 of Swerve
She glances out the window at the middle of the room. She’s quiet for several long moments. When she finally speaks, it’s as if she’s been trying to filter all the fear from her voice so that she can paint him an accurate picture.
“She’s a runner. She likes to run because of the way it makes her feel. It’s natural to her. Like breathing. We do races together, but she always beats me. She likes animals. She wants to be a veterinarian.”
“Smart girl?”
“Valedictorian of her class at this point.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Run in the family?”
“That particular thing, yes.”
“Does she have a boyfriend?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” she says, again notably offended by the implication that she might not know her sister as well as she thinks.
“She likes boys?”
“Yes, she likes boys,” she says, emphasizing the last word. “She just prefers focusing on her studies right now. She received an academic scholarship to NC State for pre-vet undergraduate work.”
“She’s a hard-worker then?”
“Very.”
“Was the scholarship mandatory for getting to go to college?”
“Our parents left us well-taken care of, if that’s what you’re asking. We both thought it made sense to get whatever scholarships we were able to get.”
“Why psychiatry?”
The question is out of the blue, and he sees the sideswipe of surprise on her face. A few moments pass before she answers with, “I like figuring people out.”
“Are you good at it?”
“I’m getting better.”
“That’s honest.”
“Take you, for instance.”
Now it’s his turn to be surprised. He waits for her to go on without giving her permission to do so.
“You hate your job. Or maybe it’s your entire life that you hate. I’m guessing ex-military. Specialty, I would presume judging by your fitness, the haircut. SEAL?”
Her accuracy is startling, but he refuses to let it show on his face. He keeps his expression neutral, expecting her to stop, but she goes on with, “This work must bore you by comparison. Having to spend your days asking ridiculous questions of regular people like me. You’re probably used to blowing stuff up, invading places in the dark. Adrenaline-inducing assignments. You seem like someone who would become addicted to that. Find life bland without it.”
She stops for a moment and then goes on with, “My guess is you’ve also got relationship issues. You’re not one to put down roots or take the time to invest in anything real. Affairs are probably more your thing. Expectations are obvious up front. You don’t have to pretend to want more. Both parties get what they came for.”
She waits for his response, clearly confident that she has nailed him.
“You’re good with the diversionary tactics,” he says, pinning her with a silent command for her to stop. “But I’m supposed to be the one drawing the conclusions.”
“And have you? Drawn any?”
“One.”
