watching. I sit for a full five minutes, thinking about my response, and I notice that the longer I pause, tapping my pen on the note, the more antsy he becomes, legs bouncing under the table, his fingers drumming against the desk. Still holding his note, I dart my eyes over at him. He’s watching me. Carefully. Intently. Little side glances. Almost grudgingly, as if he really doesn’t want to.
