“Blasphemy.”
“That’s right. You view coffee as a vehicle for sugar. How could I forget?”
“It’s because you’re a tea drinker.” I nearly shudder. “You don’t know the struggle.”
“The hell I don’t. Do you know how hard it is to find a lemon in some restaurants? But look, we’re getting way off-topic. You’re avoiding my question.”
“Question? What question?” I feign ignorance, but can’t help cracking a smile.
“You know damn well what question. But I don’t even need you to admit it. I know I was right. And I know that you know that I was right.”
There’s no use arguing. “You were.”
“And now you are deliriously happy and undeniably oversexed.”
“I am.”
“Bitch.”
I laugh at her teasing. “Molls, it’s ridiculous. The man’s genius is not limited to computers, that’s all I’m saying.”
“I need all the dirty details, but I can’t do lunch. Any chance you’re free for dinner? Think you can abstain from salacious acts for an extra hour?”
“Ha. I wish I could meet for dinner, but it’s Tuesday, and that’s trivia night for Simon and his buddies, and I was invited. And it seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I’m freaking out a little.”
She takes my abandoned coffee cup and pours the contents down the drain, washes the mug, and then repeats the process with her own cup. “You’re meeting the friends? Will there be family there, too? What are you wearing?”
“Uh, thanks for killing my coffee and adding to my anxiety?”
“No need for anxiety. Let the strategy session commence. But not here—you need real coffee. Let’s roll. My favorite coffee shop is only a few blocks away.”
“But you don’t drink coffee…”
Molly shudders. “I don’t touch the stuff. But I do ogle hot baristas.This place is great. And their chai lattes are glorious.”
I grab my mug and head for the door. “Let’s go.”
“THIS WEEK JUST KEEPSgetting better.” Simon has a smile on his face, and his hand in mine as we walk into Trick’s, the bar where he plays trivia every Tuesday with his crew of friends. I threw him a raised eyebrow when we pulled in the lot and I saw the sign, but he assured me the apostrophe is correct. Apparently, a guy named Trick owns the bar. I guess his given name is Patrick, but Simon says no one calls him that.
We order drinks and sit at a high top table, waiting on the guys, while Simon fills me in on the regulars and the competition.
“So, you and Nick are always a team?”
“Yep. And though we look more than a little mismatched, we’re a killer pair. Our team name is Tattooine, because, well, he’s all tatted up, and I’m basically a Jedi.”
At my confused look, he clarifies. “Yea, so, Tatooine, with just two t’s is the home planet of Luke Skywalker. Also Anakin, but he’s a story for another day.”
I’m catching on. “Ok, and the extra ‘t’ is for tattoo, as in body art, because Nick is a tattooist. Huh. Very clever.”
He smiles. “We like to think so. We’re currently sitting at #2 in the season rankings, but Pair of Ps can kiss their number one spot goodbye.”
“Pair of Ps?”
“Pete and Paula. They used to play trivia at the pizza joint on the highway, but the prize is bigger here, so they switched.”
“People take this trivia thing pretty seriously.”
“You have no idea. It gets a little cutthroat near the end of the season, when the stakes are high.”
