“Probably, but I can also see the benefits of keeping away from civilization’s stress and hassles, and having one’s kids grow up in the serenity of nature.” Jett fell silent again, his gaze never leaving mine. The air charged with tension. I bit my lip and broke eye contact, only to redirect my gaze to him a moment later.
He was sitting so close I could barely breathe. And while his proximity didn’t feel uncomfortable, it was almost too much to bear.
“Tell me about your life,” Jett said eventually.
I laughed. “What?” It was such a strange request. Men weren’t usually interested in my life, past, thoughts, and so forth.
Jett grinned that lopsided smile of his that made my heart skip a beat. “We didn’t go through the usual interviewing process, so it’s about time to catch up.”
“Well, we didn’t really go through the traditional hiring process either.”
He shrugged and his grin intensified. “You have a point. I could fire and re-hire you, if it bothers you so much. Or—” he turned onto one side, propping up on one elbow “—you could just answer my question.” It wasn’t an invitation but a demand.
I moistened my lips as I tried to push through years of memories in the hope I might find something that didn’t give away too much, yet still enough to satisfy his curiosity.
“My dad died when I was a teen. I grew up with my mother who tried her best to fulfill the role of both. After finishing high school, I came to New York to study, and ended up working in real estate.” Those were the boring parts of my life; the harmless ones barely scratching the surface. Usually, they sufficed in sending a guy into a disinterested staring stupor, meaning they never bothered to ask further questions. I searched Jett’s gaze for any signs of disinterest, but what I found was an attentiveness that scared me. He seemed to really listen to me. While there was nothing wrong with it, the fact that this guy who hired me would be interested in me and in my life showed me he cared for me in some way. And that scared me even more.
“You always wanted to work in real estate?” His question seemed polite and harmless enough.
“I like houses. What about you?”
He smiled but didn’t take the bait to change the object of focus. “It’s a strange career choice for a college graduate. Either you were pushed into it knowing you could make big bucks once you built your portfolio. Or you had a serious interest in buildings and the market. Which one is it?” My throat dried up. The guy knew what he was talking about. I wondered whether it was one of his usual interview questions, or whether he pulled it out of his repertoire for someone like me.
“You don’t have to answer if you’re not comfortable,” Jett continued slowly.
“It’s pretty simple. I felt it was the right step.” I shrugged because that was all there really was to it. Working in real estate was the right step—at that time.
Jett’s eyes glittered with amusement, and I got the feeling my explanation pleased him. “You joined the business out of interest, then.”
I groaned inwardly. He wasn’t about to change the topic any time soon. I forced myself not to pull a face. “Yep.”
“Did you know a lot about houses? Were you fascinated by them, by the people living inside?”
He knew something was off.
I don’t know why, but the thought hit me the moment he regarded me coolly—his eyes clouded as though to hide his thoughts and emotions. My heart thumped hard against my rib cage, threatening to burst out of my chest. My palms turned clammy, and a thin rivulet of sweat trickled down my spine.
Stay calm, Stewart.
I knew answering his question would lead to more questions, until there were no secrets left. I had never told anyone, and I sure wasn’t ready to share the dark sides of my past with Jett. My throat constricted with fear. I buried my fingers into the soft grass and ripped it out, barely acknowledging that the action was revealing more about me than a thousand words.
I wasn’t ready to tell him the whole truth, so he had to make do with the little I could give him.
“We moved a few times.” I cleared my throat, forcing the tremor away. “I’ve always liked the notion of having a stable family home. I figured by selling beautiful houses to people I might be helping them find stability in their lives. It was a stupid dream. About a week into the job, I realized the whole business was all about money.”
His long fingers tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. The movement was so natural, it felt as though he had done it—touched me—a hundred times before. “You still like your job though.”
I nodded and smiled. “I do.”