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He looks up with those alluring green eyes and smiles. “Thanks.”
I move back slowly, hypnotized like watching one of those lava lamps. Fascinating.
He breaks the trance and scans his menu again.
Soon enough, we’ve ordered, have our meals served, and we move into a comfortable conversation about the tours around Clear Creek.
He takes a sip of water and dips his head, peeking at me as he swallows. “I arranged for my buddies to come today because I wanted to meet you in person.”
I nearly choke on a piece of asparagus, but I remain calm like Georgetown Lake. I use a paper napkin to wipe my mouth. “Is that so?”
“Yeah. I’ve been following you for months. Liking all your videos.”
“Oh.” I tuck some hair behind one ear. “What’s your Instagram handle?”
“Joey underscore 1993.”
Is he Joey? Why didn’t it click when he told me his name before? How did I forget? Joey is my super fan. “Now, I know who you are. Thanks for all the reposts. I should organize a gift voucher for our tours or something.”
“Meeting you is enough.”
“Aw. You’re too sweet.” I smile and grab my water. Boy, it gets hot out here in the alfresco area. I glance around and see if I know anyone. Nope. Just three tables occupied and faces I don’t recognize. They must be tourists.
I turn to face Joey. “So, tell me something about yourself. Something fun and quirky?” The question always led to some fun conversations when I shopped the dating scene.
He leans back in his chair and stretches, his shirt snuggling his chest. “Mmm. There’s so much quirkiness.” He chuckles. “Where to start?”
I laugh. I like Joey already.
“I like baked beans mixed with banana, on occasion.”
I raise a brow. “Oooh. Interesting mix.” Nasty. My tongue has an allergic reaction already. I hate baked beans, and mixing them with bananas would ruin my love for the fruit.
He leans on his elbow and studies me. He lowers his voice. “There’s one thing my friends hassle me about.”
I lean in, matching his posture. “Spill the beans,” I giggle.
His lips thin, and his expression deadpans. “I believe the earth is flat.”
I jolt back as if he zapped me and burst out laughing.
He stills, and he’s not laughing with me. No. Joey’s staring blankly. Not one hint of a smile.
I pause mid-cackle and drag my cheeks to a straight face. “You’re serious?”
“I get that reaction all the time.” He smiles now.
Thank goodness. He’s joking.
He collects his fork and waves it in a circle before stabbing a piece of salmon. “There’s a big movement out there. I’m not the only one who believes the earth is flat.”
I scrunch my brows. Is Joey pranking me? I glance around the room to see if his friends are nearby filming us.
“Where are these flat-earth people?” Who believe this trash.
“All over the world,” he says between chews. “We meet online and chat about all sorts of theories.”
Joey’s a great actor. I could almost fall for everything he’s saying. Surely, he doesn’t believe this crapola.
