"A penny for your thoughts?"
I can't remember the last time I've heard someone say that, but it suits him somehow. I mean, I've never really looked at Mr. Everford—I've never really looked at any other man since I married Sandy.
But now that Iamlooking at him, I realize how he has this Old World air about him. Like he's a Regency lord reluctantly joining us in the modern world because he's noble enough to accept the duty of teaching etiquette to ill-mannered 21st century individuals like me.
And yet at the same time...
Gulp.
There's a ruthlessness about him, too, and it's how he's gazing at me now. Assessing me like a blue-blooded killer, and now he's just lazily considering on whether I'm to be his prey or pet, and I...I have no idea where that thought come from.
Is this because I'm in shock?
"Is your silence your way of telling me to mind my own business?"
My eyes widen."I—no, it's not—I'm not—"
"I was joking."
Oh.
Right.
I smile weakly even though a part of me isn't convinced. "I'm..." I almost find myself apologizing yet again but catch myself in time. "...just thinking things through."
His eyes are gleaming again. Like he knew I was about to say 'I'm sorry'.
"I understand."
His sober tone catches me off guard. We're practically strangers, and yet he's been so incredibly—
"You caught your husband in bed with another woman, and neither of them has expressed any kind of remorse. That's indeed a lot to process. It's hard to decide whether they're in the wrong, isn't it?"
—sarcastic. And mean. And...honest.
"I'm in shock, okay?"
"But also stupid?"
What is this guy's deal? Why is he nice one moment and then not nice the next?
"You look angry," he comments.
"I’m upset,” I sputter, “because you just said I was stupid—”
"Deny it then."
"I deny it!" I don’t think I’ve ever said something so fast.
"With actions, not words."
All I can do is stare at him while asking myself the same question. Because I'm seriously clueless. What is this guy's problem—
Riiiiing.
"Starting with that."
I don't even remember I still have my bag slung over my shoulder until it starts vibrating, and when I take it out—