Alarm!
He didn’t seem interested in elaborating, and the more I thought about it, the more I didn’t want to know. Sure, he’d been a gentleman so far, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. I watched him stare at the road through the windshield and noticed his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly.
Nope. I did not want to know.
“What do you do?” Aiden asked.
“I’m a project manager,” I said. “I work in the banking industry, managing teams for various initiatives. I work with the computer groups a lot, mostly on hardware and software upgrades.”
“Fun.”
I snorted out a laugh.
“Yeah, it’s a blast.”
“So why do it?” Aiden relaxed his grip on the wheel and turned the corner.
“It pays the bills,” I said. “I love books, and I used to work in a library, but moving to project management made me a lot more money.”
“I guess that’s something.”
“It might not be too exciting,” I said, “but I like the people I work with. Well, most of them.”
“Most?”
“My boss is an ass.”
Aiden laughed as he looked at me with those twinkling green-brown eyes.
“He hasn’t been there long,” I continued, “and he seems to be doing his best to drive me insane.”
“So quit,” Aiden suggested with a shrug.
“It’s not that easy.” I looked down at my hands as I fiddled with the strap of my purse.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s good money, and the drive isn’t bad. There’s no guarantee what I’d find would be any better than what I have, and looking for a new job takes a lot of time.”
“Might cut into that grocery shopping, huh?”
I glared at him, but he just smiled back and adjusted the cap on his head. I noticed he had a small tattoo right on the upper part of his ear.
I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to defend myself to this man. He probably didn’t even have a real job. Sales people in my company made a lot of money, drove fancy cars, and lived in high-class neighborhoods, not the dump he was in.
“At least I can afford to eat what I want and live where I want.” I looked back to my hands, realizing how my words probably sounded.
“Judging me by that apartment, are you?”
I didn’t answer.
“It’s not mine,” he said. “I’m just borrowing it for the week. I’ll be heading back home tomorrow.”
“Where’s home?”
“Miami, Florida.”
“Ah.” It didn’t surprise me. Half the people in Ohio seemed to live in Florida for part of the year, which meant almost everyone I knew had family down there. “Are you visiting family or something?”