Ninja At First Sight Read Online Free PDF Page A

futile.
    “You are correct,” I said, turning off the faucet, ignoring how my heart leapt to my throat.
    Greg’s eyes cut to me. He was scowling. “Of course I’m correct-”
    “You are also incorrect.”
    His forehead wrinkled, plain surprise flickering over, then arresting his expression. My heart was thudding in my chest, and my ears were ringing because he was intimidating. But I’d long ago learned how to surmount intimidation and fear. His cold regard frightened me, but I was more brave than he was scary.
    “Really,” he drawled, his eyes narrowing, his mouth curving in a slight smirk. “I am so very interested in learning of my deficiencies.”
    “That’s a lie,” I said plainly, wiping off my hands with a towel. “But, as sarcasm is an effective technique when debating, I’ll allow it.”
    “You’ll allow it,” he stated, his voice impassive, monotone.
    “Yes, I will. Even though sarcasm is beneath you. But I digress, as your lack of sincerity isn’t the point.”
    “What is your point?”
    “I agree. Without someone to take offense, one cannot give offense. That stated, values are important. Ethics are important. Morality, holding truths sacred, is important.”
    “Ah, but whose truths do we hold sacred?”
    I shook my head and smiled at him, seeing that he was attempting to lead me down the same path he’d just led Simone. “No, no, no. That way leads to ruin and red herrings.”
      His eyes lost some of their cold edge, and his lips twisted to the side fighting a reluctant smile.
    “The point I debate is not whose truths or ideology are superior. The point I debate is that each of us needs an ideology. We all need something to fight for, to believe in, to hold sacred. Simone-” I motioned to her with my hand, “is an animal-rights activist. No one should be belittling her good work, because she is doing good work.”
    His smirk fell away, and he blatantly stared, assessing. He opened his mouth to speak, and I held up my hands to stop him.
    “I know what you’re going to say.”
    “Is that so?”
    “Yes. Well, maybe not the precise words, but you’re going to say something sarcastic, cutting; perhaps it’ll be witty or even funny. I challenge you to answer my next question without sarcasm.”
    His gaze narrowed again.
    One of the boys chimed in, “I don’t think Greg can go more than a minute without sarcasm. It might kill him.”
    A few people laughed. I kept my eyes on Greg. He wasn’t smiling.
    “Fine. What’s the question?”
    “Do you hold anything sacred?”
    He paused, maybe searching his mind to determine if I’d asked a trick question; finally, he nodded once. “Of course.”
    “What good work do you do? How do you fight for what you hold sacred?”
    Greg blinked as if he were startled by the question. All at once, his gaze turned thunderous.
    I almost took a step back, but I didn’t. I held my ground. “You give me offense, and I take it. I take offense to the fact that you would stand here and belittle Simone’s beliefs and her work to correct what she feels are grave wrongs when you take no action to fight for your beliefs. It is one thing to compare or even belittle sacred truths when both parties are working toward rectifying wrongs. But it is quite another to rail against a person who is doing something when you do nothing.”
    Greg’s eyes flashed, and, though I didn’t know him very well, I sensed he was very close to losing his temper. I braced myself, waiting for the storm. I was good at this. My mother was a screamer. She communicated via threats and intimidation, all shouted at maximum volume.
    But his anger didn’t come.
    He closed his eyes, his chin falling to his chest for maybe three seconds, and when he lifted his head his gaze was cool, calm, collected.
    “I cede the point,” he said evenly, almost cheerfully, giving me a half smile that did not reach his eyes. “You are, of course, right. What good are convictions if you don’t fight