I pinch the bridge of my nose. Do I look like the type to engage in small talk? Who the hell is this dude? “Please enlighten me on when I would have time to entertain such frivolous affairs.”
“It doesn’t have to take long. I assume a man in your position isn’t too keen on commitment. Even so, separating your personal life from work requires a healthy balance.” His relentless ramblings grate on my simmering temper.
I press my lips into a firm line as the fever stirs. “Not that it’s any of your business, but having an authentic relationship that isn’t reliant on financial factors doesn’t exist in my world.”
“That’s a shame.”
“It really isn’t. Trust me when I say that remaining single is the less complicated alternative.”
“Aren’t your parents hounding you for grandchildren?”
The mere suggestion of them in any nurturing role is almost comical enough to make me smile. Almost. My father being six feet under ruins the humorous image. I let a snarl curl my upper lip. “Didn’t yours teach you to avoid personal topics that might cause discomfort?”
He scoffs. “Don’t bullshit me. Nothing ruffles your feathers.”
It appears that way on the surface, of course. The truth remains hidden under a custom suit and decades of suppressing emotions. I tug on my tie, the damn knot suddenly choking.
“It’s a necessary evil. Comes with the territory.” I said something similar to Vannah yesterday. That sentiment describes most of my existence.
He swats at the air as if it annoys him. “Fine, whatever. That doesn’t mean you can’t get laid.”
“I never claimed otherwise.”
His eyes gleam and I brace myself for another onslaught. “So, you do have a girl.”
“If I say yes, will you leave?”
“Not yet. Tell me about her.”
“There’s nothing to share.”
“Ah, clamming up on me? I get it—you’re not one to kiss and tell.”
I spread my arms out, scattering papers in all directions. “What gave you the impression I would?”
“We’re bonding, man. Talking about chicks is a gateway.”
“To what? We’re not frat brothers.” Calling him my acquaintance is being generous, but I’m strongly considering cutting him off after this stunt.
Jordan leans forward, resting an elbow on his thigh. “I get the hint I’m striking a nerve.”
“What was your first clue?”
He holds up his palms in an act of surrender I wouldn’t bet fifty cents on. “Okay, discussing ladies is off-limits. Noted.”
“Add every other subject to that list as well,” I mutter.
“You need to take a load off, man. I’ve been here for less than ten minutes and I can feel the stress closing in on me.”
“Feel free to show yourself out.” I motion toward the door.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
“How’d I guess you’d say that?”
“Because we’re making a connection.” His reply is laced with far too much enthusiasm. If I hadn’t met his wife, I might assume he’s into men. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
“You’re not my girlfriend.” I spit the words with extra venom, hoping he’ll let this idiotic topic drop.
“Oh, I’m so glad you brought that up again. I figured we were moving on, but this is great. Who’s your significant other?” He wags his eyebrows.
“Perhaps you should check your hearing. I already told you dating isn’t on my radar.”
He nods in what I assume is meant to be understanding, but I highly doubt he actually empathizes. “You should make it a priority.”
“No, thanks. Headaches are less aggravating when there’s money to be made.” Why I’m entertaining his invasive questioning is beyond me. Maybe being isolated so often is eroding my defenses. I do need to get out more.
Jordan sits back and crosses his ankles, settling in for the long haul. Removing him by force is beginning to look like the only option. Where’s my worthless assistant when I actually need him? “Don’t you ever need to relax? Ease your bodily urges?”
I abandon the document in my fist, tossing the packet away with a grunt. “What are you trying to gain from this conversation? All you’re managing to do is put me in a piss-poor mood.”
He stills, scrutinizing my rigid posture. “Wait, you’re not always this grumpy?”
“You’re skating on thin ice, Hughes. State your business or get the hell out.”
“The lakes melted months ago, but nice try.”
“Is there a point to all this?” Repeating myself only serves to darken the red edging my vision.
Jordan shrugs. “Not really, to be honest. I’m just shooting the breeze.”
“And effectively wasting my time,” I add. “Isn’t there somewhere else you should be that’s more productive?”
He waves me off. “Yeah, I’m heading to a meeting in a minute. This is just a quick detour to chat with my friend.”
I glance from left to right, looking for this missing source. “You better hurry along then.”
His snort is louder than a bull. “Such a smart ass. I appreciate your humor, Winters.”
“I don’t share the same fondness for yours.”
He clucks his tongue. “If only I could believe you. I’d be long gone if you really wanted me to be.”
“Security is pretty thin at the moment.” I jut my chin at the empty space around us.
“There’s that snappy wit again. You’re a funny guy. How about you come have a drink with me after you’re done crushing skulls and stealing smiles?”
“I can’t imagine why I’d ever agree to such a thing.”
“Because you’re in this city alone and want some company.” The way his dry tone frames that statement makes it seem like he actually believes that.
“I’m capable of finding my own entertainment, should the need present itself.”
“You need a boost in the fun department.” At this moment, Jordan resembles a bloodhound chasing a fresh scent. He won’t be easily dissuaded, and I don’t have hours to waste trying. I’d kick his ass to the curb if I didn’t appreciate his decent leads on investment opportunities.
“I appreciate the invite”—I really don’t—“but I’ll pass.”
He’s quiet for a moment, allowing a false sense of victory to cloak me. Then his smile spreads and I flex my gut in preparation for more low blows. “You remind me of someone who had issues accepting happiness. He was a real surly asshole, hellbent on being angry.”
“Sounds like my kind of guy,” I remark.
“Great.” He claps and stands from his chair. “You can meet him tonight.”
I have to give the pushy bastard credit for setting a decent trap. “That’s highly unlikely.”
“I’d say the odds are strongly in my favor, unless you’re fond of my dropping by unannounced.” If I didn’t have prior knowledge of his profession, I’d be certain by this point that he’s a lawyer. The guy can probably get a cardboard box to fold on command.