“You’re not a candidate,"

"What do you mean by that, explain," he commanded in a low tone with a monumental level of authority. 

It wasn't the first time that she felt intimidated by him, but she took comfort in knowing that what she told him was the truth and all the truth, "You may find this silly, or you may find it concerning…It really depends on how superstitious you are," she found herself stalling.

"Summer," he warned.

"…I don't know if you remember, but a couple of weeks ago, the circus was in town, and the tent of the Gypsy was advertised for all over the marketing department,"

"…"

She slightly tilted her head and peeked up to measure his expression and find out whether he remembered or didn't and whether he had a mocking face already or not. She was oddly satisfied when she saw the color draining from his face. 'Looks like he's taking me seriously,' her joy was not too far from being heartless when she noticed beads of sweat forming over the man's head now.