When Perfect Meets Crazy

10 - Inclined towards sophisticated wit

"How did you learn to type so fast?"

I jolted, my heart jumping to my throat. The book I was about to place on the shelf clattered to the ground.

"Jesus Christ," I hissed, mentally willing my pounding heart to calm down. "Do not sneak up on me like that."

It wasn't easy ignore the twinge of panic that came with the knowledge that I hadn't heard him arrive, much less creep up on me.

How is he even quiet with those unnecessarily long limbs?

I still had a few minutes before the end of my shift and although, I was gradually getting used to his presence, it still set me on edge.

"First things first," I said, forcing myself to focus. "Where's the contract?"

"How did you get so fast with your fingers?" he reiterated, closing the small gap between us. "I asked first."

"I'm sure that came out dirtier than you meant it to," I replied, smoothly stepping back to put much needed space between us again. "And technically I asked first. Two days ago."

"Technically," he drawled the word out mockingly. "I get precedence because I don't trust you which I made very clear a long time ago."

I flashed him an unimpressed look before bending to pick up the fallen book.

"Are you really trying to outsmart me right now?" My tone conveyed incredulous amusement. "Haven't we already established that even drained, crying and with a headache I can still outwit you? Seriously, don't embarass yourself."

If eyes could shoot, I'd be riddled with bullet holes.

"Glaring like that isn't going to change anything," I pointed out. "By the way, what did your lawyer say? About the contract?"

I didn't think it was possible but his scowl darkened dramatically. It went from 'I want to kill you' to 'I will decimate you and everything you care about'.

"I take it he was impressed," I surmised.

"It was okay," he bit out.

"Okay?" I scoffed. "You're looking at me like you'd like to teach me a lesson or two in a dark alley. People don't do that for just 'okay'. Come on, just admit it was spectacular."

"It didn't have any mistakes. You win," he huffed, his gaze flickering to the opposite shelf.

I knew he definitely wasn't interested in horticulture so he had to be hiding something.

"I more than win. He loved me, didn't he? What did he say? I want his exact words."

And mother of all shockers, I found out he wasn't at scowling capacity yet because his scowled darkened even further. Enough that I was starting to debate the wisdom of goading him in a remote aisle.

"He offered you a job." The words were forced out of jaws so tightly clenched it was a surprise that words were audible at all.

His revelation was followed by a sharp bark of laughter from yours truly.

In my defence, I couldn't help myself. What was I supposed to do? Not laugh?

"That had to have burned," I gloated.

"Can we get back to my question about your typing now?" He fixed his gaze just above my head, refusing to meet my gaze as an embarassed blush coloured his neck.

"Yeah, sure," I acquiesced. "But you signed it, right?"

There was no point if it wasn't signed.