Quick Study - By Gretchen Galway Page 0,19
and quit. Before we start, you might want to look over the questions.”
“I won’t get offended.” He sat down at the table, the small smile on his lips not reaching his eyes. “I promise.”
She looked at him, disliking him on sight without knowing why, something about his narrow lips and his perfectly unwrinkled sweatshirt, then chastising herself for being shallow. Regardless of what she did with the data, she’d worked hard and she was going to get at least one of the stupid questionnaires filled out before she gave up. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a five. “I appreciate that. Here’s your payment, such as it is.”
His lip curled, glancing at the bill in her hand. “Let’s get your thing out of the way first. What’s your story? College girl?”
Bonnie tightened her jaw. “Graduate student,” she said, sitting up taller, “at State.”
“Ah, of course.” He reached across the table to take the questionnaire she hadn’t yet handed to him. “Something to write with?”
She handed him the pen, freezing a businesslike look on her face and preparing to stand up. “What would you like? I’ll get it while you write.”
He met her eyes and raised an eyebrow, pen hovering over the paper. “What’s the hurry? Stay here in case I have any questions.” He smiled, and Bonnie had to force herself to smile back.
“All right.” She turned her chair so she wasn’t facing him and pulled out her notebook, balancing it on her legs and frowning at it as though the creepy guy didn’t bother her at all.
Luckily, he bent over the paper and wrote silently, without comment or evil glances, for at least ten minutes, and when he was done, he simply looked up and slid the paper over to her. “What did you say your degree is called?”
“Gender Studies. The department used to be Feminist Studies, but that was too narrow.”
“Right,” he said flatly, staring at her but not meeting her eyes.
“So, what would you like?” She shoved his questionnaire deep into her bag, not even wanting to touch it. “From the counter.”
“Aren’t you going to read it?”
“What?” She looked at him, then realized he wanted her to read all about his kinky urges there, while she watched. “Uh, no. I’ll study all of them later at home.”
“Where’s home? You live around here?”
Bonnie looked around at the other tables, playing cool even though her skin was beginning to crawl. “So did you want a coffee? Because I have other volunteers coming as well.”
“But they’re not here yet.” He settled back in his chair and crossed his legs. “Are they?”
“Perhaps not,” she said, her voice as icy and flat as she could make it, lifting her bag up into her lap between them like a shield. “But we’re done here. Free coffee? Last chance.”
He gave her a tight-lipped smile and stared at her. “I don’t want any coffee.”
She jerked to her feet. “Your choice. Thank you for your time.”
“Where are you going?”
She didn’t answer him, just walked away to another table near the door and sat down with her side to him. More than anything, she wanted to run out to her car and drive home to her lesbian aunties, but she didn’t want him at her back.
Sooner or later, he’d give up and she could go home.
Still smiling from his meeting with Bonnie’s surprising roommates, Paul sat in his car and watched the Starbucks storefront and her feminine profile just inside. Nice of the old ladies to tell him where she’d gone. And because they were worried about her. And liked him.
He was worried too, but for different reasons. She’d picked him up with the promise of coffee, and he didn’t like the fact that she was apparently using it again tonight—with other guys. He’d given it a lot of thought and concluded that he wasn’t going to let her sleep with anyone else until she’d talked to him seriously first. Over dinner, maybe.
Not that he’d just sit by after they talked seriously, which might be a problem since she was obviously an independent, sexually-adventurous woman and he was just a one-night stand. Worse—research. But if he could keep her smiling and sexually-satisfied, she wouldn’t have time to think about anyone else.
That made him hard, thinking of how he’d make her happy. He looked at his watch, surprised it was taking her so long to interview a few people. They’d kick her out if she stayed too long, wouldn’t they?
At last, she appeared at the door,