Page 43 of Misadventures of a Biker

“What was disastrous about it?”

“He was a liar,” she replied. “And a cheater. And an all-around dick.”

“That sucks. Was that the disastrous part? His cheating?”

She picked up her sandwich and then put it down. “It was part of it, yeah.”

I hated to press the issue, but I’d promised Kate I wouldn’t mention what she’d shared with me. Without Teddi telling me the details, I couldn’t discuss it with her.

I picked up another taco and took a small bite. “An all-around dick, huh?” I asked, trying not to act too interested. “Tell me what a guy does to get that label. I’ll be sure that I don’t make the same mistakes.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t.”

“Let’s hope not.”

She ate half of what remained of her sandwich and pushed the plate aside. After finishing her vodka drink, she raised the empty glass. “These things are so good. If I have another, will you drive?”

“Sure.”

She got another drink. While we talked about our favorite local places to eat, she finished it and then got another. Hopeful that all hundred and eighteen pounds of her would be drunk and willing to talk by the time she finished drink number three, I recommended Brooks Burgers as my favorite burger joint.

“It was ranked number two or three in the nation for burgers,” I said. “That’s quite an accomplishment if you ask me.”

“It’s a hamburger,” she argued. “Hamburgers are boring.”

“Most people would think that sparkling water with a shot of vodka and the essence of kiwi fruit dribbled into it is boring. To each their own.”

“I like it that we like different things,” she said. “I look forward to broadening my eating horizons. Opening up to new things.”

“One of these days you’re going to have to open up to riding on the back of my motorcycle.”

“I don’t know about that. Maybe.”

The motorcycle wasn’t simply a mode of transportation for me. It was part of my being. Without it, I doubted I’d be able to maintain my sanity. “I think you’ll like it. I hope you do, anyway. It’s a big part of who I am.”

She sipped her drink. “What do you mean?”

“It’s an escape. A very necessary one. It’s like a wonder drug on wheels. Whatever’s broken, a ride will fix it.”

“I doubt that.”

“Don’t doubt it until you’ve at least tried it.”

“We’ll see,” she said.

We’ll see was a soft no. “When you’re ready, I’ll give you a ride. Not until.”

“If it’ll fix whatever’s broken, it sounds like a good idea. If this house sells before the deadline, I’ll swallow my reservations and climb on. How’s that?”

“I’ll hold you to it,” I said.

“I’m sure you will.” She finished the drink and looked at the empty glass. “I think I’m drunk.”

“Do you do this often?” I asked.

“What?”

“Get drunk at lunch?”