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“To me, yes. To everyone else? I don’t think so.”
I don’t believe him.
“Seriously. I paid close attention to everyone. No one else was watching you.”
“But you knew,” I charge.
He breaks out into a smile. “I didn’tknow.But now I do.”
Since I’d planned to tell him anyway, I let him have the gotcha moment. I’m too panicked to think straight.
“But if it was that obvious . . .”
“Ada, this is me. I’m not some rando who thinks you’re nothing other than a ‘top scientist’ skyrocketing her way to the top of the FDA food chain.”
I swallow, despite the fact that I’m suddenly not very hungry.
“Gee, thanks.”
Qasim looks at me like I just moved his stapler around on his desk. He hates that.
“You know what I mean. Of course you’re amazing, but I know the ‘other’ Ada. The one who likes to grind up on her dance partners and can hold more alcohol than should be possible.”
“I do not grind on my dance partners,” I lie, totally knowing I do. Dancing is my absolute favorite, and I tend to lose myself a bit. “OK, but having fun is not a crime.”
“No,” he admits, “it’s not. And you won’t find any judgment here. I’m just saying, I know what you look like when you’re feeling a guy. And holy shit, that was some high-level heat the two of you were emitting.”
I push my salad away. Definitely not hungry.
“I hope you’re right, because at that point there was nothing going on between us.”
“Key phrase, ‘at that point.’”
I clear my throat. “Things sort of changed after Thursday night.”
“Do tell.” Qasim takes another bite of his sandwich, his appetite unaffected by my crisis.
“We sort of drove back together.”
“Mmmm.” He holds up a finger, finishes chewing, and asks, “Hold on, how is that possible?”
“His driver dropped him off—” I cringe a little as I say it, all too aware of how pretentious it sounds. “Hayden came back with me.”
“His driver, of course.”
I can see the minute he figured it out.
“But you weren’t coming straight back. That’s why you drove yourself.” His eyes widened. “Oh my God, he went with you to Skaneateles.”
I nod.
“You stayed the whole weekend?”
I nod again.
Qasim shrugs. “Well? How was he?”
I toss a paper clip at him.
