I speared Drew with a look. “I’m not going on a date with you.”
“Of course not.” He said it like the idea was preposterous. “But I’m pretty sure you can eat a meal with me to get your beloved donation.”
Jen practically tossed the plates on the table before retreating. Poor girl. I’d have to leave her a hefty tip for all the chaos she’d endured. I touched her arm and asked for the check before she scurried all the way back to the kitchen.
“My friends will see reason,” I pointed out to Drew.
He picked up the knife sitting at an angle along the edge of the plate and cut David’s burger in half. “Will they?”
Something in his tone caused me to pause. “Are you…blackmailing me?” I gaped at him, gathering my thoughts before I continued. “If I don’t sit down and eat with you, then you’ll somehow sabotage this donation? Do you hate the planet that much?”
He picked up the burger and took a bite, making appreciative noises in the back of his throat. He held the burger up. “This is really good. You want a bite?”
I sat back down in my chair with a thud. “Did you know that seventy percent of all agricultural land is used to raise farm animals? A lot of that is for grazing, which could be used to grow crops for human consumption. Livestock farming also leads to deforestation in key places like the Amazon and is a major component of the loss of biodiversity.”
He studied the hamburger in his hand. “So you’re saying my dinner is at the epicenter of world hunger and basically the end of the natural world as we know it?” He stared right into my eyes as he took a huge bite. “What a delicious way to go,” he said around a mouthful of food.
“You’re a horrible person.” I stabbed at a piece of romaine lettuce with my fork.
“Awwww. I’m sure you say that to all the guys.”
A cherry tomato died at the end of my fork tines. “Why are you here?”
He wiped his mouth and lifted a fry. “I thought it was pretty obvious.” He popped the fried potato wedge in his mouth. “I’m eating dinner.”
A cucumber succumbed to my silverware attack. “No. Why are youhere?”
He looked right at me and repeated slowly, “I thought it was pretty obvious.”
Obvious to whom? The need to reduce the human carbon footprint was obvious. The need for social reforms was obvious. Why a man I couldn’t stand and who had made his mocking regard of me evident chose to not only eat with me but blackmail me to do so was about as clear as a mud puddle.
“How’s Sierra?”
His jump in topic and the casual way he brought my daughter into conversation left me reeling. “Pardon?”
His brow quirked. “Your daughter? Eight years old, about this high”—he motioned with his hand—“and too smart for her own good.”
“I know who my daughter is.”
He shrugged. “You seemed confused.”
My molars ground together. “She’s fine.”
“Still playing soccer?”
I pushed down the queasiness in my gut. Sierra didn’t get her athletic prowess from me. And as much as I encouraged her to put her energy into debate club and her chess team, she’d still managed to talk me into signing her up for team sports. Stupid debate club coming back to bite me on the behind.
It took all my will to remove the anxious tension I felt when I pictured my daughter padded up and on the field. “No. She decided she wanted to try football.”
“Flag?”
“Tackle.”
Drew blanched. “But the league here is co-ed with a high majority of players being boys.” He said it as if I weren’t aware of the ramifications.
I bristled at his tone. “And I’m not raising a wilting daisy.”
He studied me, thoughts skimming across his face, never settling long enough for me to get a read. “What made you so…”
