“Well, I’ve still got a bit of a hangover to nurse so I’m going to let you go, Nick.”
“Sure,” he said. “Feel better. I’ll see you Monday.”
* * *
The second week of January brought an uncharacteristically warm spell, which Sammie seemed to be taking advantage of by sitting on the patio to work. She’d done this for three days in a row, and it left Nick missing her casual, intermittent humming in the office. It made him miss her in general,so he decided to put his little plan into motion, and one day he came to work prepared to pester her during her lunch break.
He set down his plate of a burger and fries across from her wedge salad, and she shot him a look while he closed her laptop and began shuffling a deck of cards on top of the lid.
“Cards?” she asked him, lifting an eyebrow.
He lifted an eyebrow right back. “Don’t act like you’re not itching to settle the score.”
“Ha.” She scooped up her hand. “You’re on.”
She brought the cards to her face, then peered over them at him. “What are we playing for? I see you neglected to bring the jar of change,” she remarked in a snarky tone.
“Playing for reusable change is fine … foramateurs,”he zinged, causing her to tilt her head in a sassy manner. “I thought we’d raise the stakes.”
She smirked. “And?”
“And I want those cherry tomatoes,” he asserted. “So ante up.”
Her jaw fell open. “You are not getting my tomatoes.”
He cocked his head. “Then you’d better put on your poker face, sweetheart. Because we’re playing for keeps.”
She scoffed but was clearly amused by his purposefully flirtatious competitive comments.
“Fine,” she relented. “My tomatoes, for your fries.”
“No way,” he stated with a quick shake of his head. “The pickle and half of my burger.”
“What?” She laughed. “Not even thewholeburger? You’re crazy. I want the fries.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Then you get the croutons.”
“Samantha.” He huffed, feigning exasperation. “These are truffle infused fries. They’re worth way more than your entire salad. That’s not an equal bet.”
“Excuse me, mister MBA holder,” she retorted. “But the value of something is determined by how much somebody wants it. You really want my tomatoes, and I really want those fries so that makes it an equal bet.”
She set a plate in the center of the table and placed a tomato on it. “So ante up,sweetheart.”
Nick was a pro at maintaining his poker face so he managed not to give her thoroughly enamored grin.
After spending all New Year’s Day jogging his memory of the phone call, he finally recollected she mentioned how much she missed their card games, then managed to sit on the idea for about a week until he felt the timing was right—and her working and taking lunch on the patio seemed to be it.
Activities like this were part of the game plan of his little unofficial new year’s resolution—Operation Get Sammie Back.
With the surprisingly stellar advice from one of his former hookups, as well as the emotionally revealing drunken call from Sammie, he decided he’d refuse to give up on them without a significant fight. He wouldn’t go so far as to fire her, but he was okay with bending the rules of the new handbook to the point that she’d be enticed to perhaps rewrite the section about dating among the staff. And that meant laying his game on, and thick.
Nick burned a card and placed down the turn, glancing at her face for longer than necessary until her gaze shot up and she gave him an annoyed look.
“You’re cheating.”
“I have skills,I don’t need to cheat.”
