My mouth goes totally dry. I have no freaking clue how to respond to something like that, so I do the only thing I can do — ignore it completely and hurry on with the rest ofmytale.
“Right. Well.” I cough. “Long sob story short, my finances have been a bit tight for the past few months… So much so that I’ve been working pretty much any job I can find. And, honestly, I haven’t found many. Not well paying ones, anyway, since I have no employment history. Every decent entry-level job calls for at least five years of experience, or an unpaid internship in the field.” I trace my fingertip against the silver-veined marble countertop, too embarrassed to look at him as I say the rest. “It probably won’t surprise you to hear that with a degree in fashion design from a party school, I’m not exactly qualified to do anythingexceptshop.”
“Bullshit,babe.”
My eyes fly up to Luca’s. “Excuseme?”
“You heard me.” He pins me with a look. “You’re qualified to do anything you set your mind to. Knew that the first minute I clapped eyes on you. You’re a force of nature, Delilah JamesSinclair.”
“Did you not hear a word I said? I’m not a force ofanything. The only thing I’ve been forcing lately is my fake laugh during interviews for jobs I’ll never get hired for anyway.” I groan. “Why ohwhydidn’t I study something useful, like accounting? I’d be a great accountant! Except for the fact that I’m sort of terrible at math.” My brows pull together. “But I could’ve studied speech pathology. Or physical therapy. Oh, or dentistry! I’m already a religious flosser, how hard could it be to make the leap to doing itprofessionally?”
“About eight years of school,” Lucamurmurs.
“Scratch that,definitelynot dentistry, the human mouth is vile,” I sayimmediately.
Hesmirks.
I groan again. “God, I’m an idiot. If I could go back and slap my eighteen-year-old self for majoring in Jell-O shots and cute fraternitybrothers…”
Luca’s lipstwitch.
“Forget I said that.” I drop my burning cheeks into my hands. “In fact, forget I said anything at all, about any of this. Let’s rewind to thirty minutes ago, when you thought I was a prostitute. I think I preferred that to being the pathetic poor girl lacking any viable jobprospects.”
“You send out invitations to that pity party you’re throwing, or is it a solocelebration?”
I laugh, despite myself, and glance up at him. “Would you believe, I sent invitations but turnout has been prettylackluster.”
“Assuming mine got lost in themailthen.”
“Nah, you didn’t make the cut. Very exclusiveguestlist.”
“Ah. Should’ve known.” His eyes get ultra-warm as they hold mine, until I’m forced to glance down at my plate just so I can breathe again. I focus on pushing my pancakes around, instead of the thousand butterflies that just burst to life inside mystomach.
“Delilah.”
“What?”
He’s silent, waiting for me to look up at him. With a sigh, I lift my eyes and find him watching me, weighing his words withextracare.
“You’re going to figure this out. I promise. Might not seem like it right now, but there’s more than one way to live a life, more than one route to happiness. Can be tough to see that, when you’ve spent twenty-five years headed one direction and suddenly hit a detour. But don’t forget, you’re the one in the driver’s seat. You get to control where youendup.”
“I think, based on recent events, we shouldn’t have too much faith in my drivingskills.”
“Probably a good call.” He smirks. “By the way — update your damn license, will you? You shouldn’t be driving around with an expired one. Especially when you’re pretending to be a cast member from a bad Nicolas Cagemovie.”
My brows lift. “NationalTreasure?”
He shakeshishead.
“GhostRider?”
Anothershake.
“Season of theWitch?”
“No.”
“TheWickerMan?”