Paul popped his handsome head in sometime later. His eyes widened when he saw the mess I had made, using the entire length of the conference table, the chairs, and a good part of the floor to spread things out. He was probably wondering what the hell he’d been thinking in asking for my help.
“There’s a method to my madness, I promise,” I told him confidently. “To construct, you must first deconstruct.”
He nodded, though I wasn’t sure he believed me.
“Did you want something?”
“It’s lunchtime. I was wondering if you wanted to take a break and get some food.”
I looked at the clock, surprised to see how much time had passed. Between trying to make sense of the horrendous filing system and answering the phone—I’d taken it upon myself to screen calls and take messages using the extension in the conference room—I hadn’t noticed the time flying by.
I stood up and brushed off my jeans. The place had needed a proper dusting too. And don’t even get me started on the state of the coffeemaker. “Sure. What do you want and from where?”
He blinked and tilted his head in the most adorable way, as if I’d confused him. “I was just going to run across the street to the park. You’re welcome to join me, or I could bring something back for you if you’d prefer.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t used to being treated like an equal. In my office, paralegals were pretty low on the totem pole and did all the things for the higher-ups, including running out for lunch. “Right. A walk sounds good.”
He locked up the office behind us, and we made our way to the park. He suggested sliders, which sounded good to me. I even let him order for me. He insisted on paying too. I agreed but only on the condition that I get gelati for both of us afterward.
I liked a man who could negotiate and compromise.
We found an empty table in a shady spot and sat down to enjoy our food. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I took the first bite.
“This is delicious,” I told him.
“Glad you like it.”
I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, and another warning chill, like the one I’d felt the night before, made me shiver. I put my slider down, picked up a napkin, and looked around. Like the day before, there were plenty of people, and none of them appeared to be doing anything suspicious or nefarious. After a few moments, the feeling passed.
Of course, Paul picked up on it. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said. “Just a chiver.”
“A chiver?”
“Half-chill, half-shiver,” I explained and attempted to lighten the situation. “My grandmother used to say that happened when someone walked over your grave. Nice visual, huh?”
He didn’t return my smile. “Does that happen often?”
“Thankfully, no. At least, not anymore.”
“Explain, please.”
It wasn’t something I normally talked about, but Paul was looking at me as if he was genuinely interested, and for some reason, my automatic defensive mechanisms weren’t operating at full capacity.
“I’m not sure I can really. It’s just a feeling I get sometimes before something bad happens.”
He didn’t laugh or blow it off, like I’d expected. “Like a premonition?”
I shook my head. “More like a warning.”
“How does that work?”
I paused and sipped my iced tea, wishing I hadn’t been softened up by smoldering dark eyes and mouth-watering barbecue. “It sounds crazy.”
“Tell me anyway.”
I exhaled. “Let’s just say, I tend to be very aware of my surroundings.”
“There’s got to be more to it than that.”
“There really isn’t.” I liked knowing who and what I was dealing with. It gave me a sense of control in any situation. I told him as much.
“Most people think they’re aware, but they aren’t,” he challenged. “Eyewitness testimony is one of the most unreliable sources of information there is.”
He wasn’t wrong. I saw it all the time.
It had even been the subject of a lecture in one of my classes. In the middle of the class, a man ran in, grabbed the professor’s briefcase, and ran back out. The whole thing took less than a minute. Afterward, we were all asked to write down a description of the man and our account of what had occurred. The results had been astoundingly different.
My eyewitness account had been dead-on. I had even been able to correctly identify the masked “suspect” as one of the professor’s TAs based on the way he’d moved.
Because I paid attention.
“All right. Without turning around, tell me about the people sitting behind us.”
I didn’t take offense. He was a lawyer. He wanted evidence.
“Directly behind us is a woman with a dog. She’s thirty or so, slim and attractive. Shoulder-length brown hair with blonde tips and a red headband. Red leggings and a lightweight gray hoodie. Her dog is a Lab–German shepherd mix, probably around eighty pounds or so. She’s been looking over this way ever since we sat down, like she knows you or something.”
His eyes widened.
“Farther back and to the left, two small children are hiding behind a multiflora bush, giggling, while their mother pretends to search for them. One’s about four, the other about two. The mother is young, early twenties at most. Shall I keep going?”
“That’s incredible. What other superpowers do you have?”
I knew he was teasing, but the praise was welcome all the same. He seemed genuinely impressed with my keen powers of observation, and that made me feel good. Most people just thought I was paranoid and weird.
I decided to take it a step further. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I’m good at reading people too. In fact, I can create a fairly accurate profile of someone within the first few minutes of meeting them. Sometimes, I don’t even have to meet them. I can simply observe them for a short time and just know.”
“Are you ever wrong?”
I shook my head. “Not to my knowledge.” I wasn’t bragging, just being honest.
“I bet that’s a useful skill to
