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He folds his arms across his chest. “You mean you’ll let me throw an idea out and then you’ll say you hate it and the eight ball gets to decide, right?”
I roll my eyes and laugh. “No, I’ll really let you decide. The eight ball will just help me order off the menu.”
He shakes his head but agrees, and a few minutes later we are sitting in a nearby cafe.
CHAPTER6
Derek
I can’t helpbut watch as she turns the eight ball over for each decision on the menu. Sandwich? ‘Don’t count on it.’ Soup? ‘Cannot predict now.’ Salad? ‘Outlook not so good.’
“I guess you have to go hungry then,” I say, shaking my head.
She glares up at me. “It must be you. It’s never this vague when you’re not around.”
I arch an eyebrow as I stare at her. “Are you implying that my reality is messing up your nonsense?”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s not nonsense. It’s fun. Haven’t you ever done anything just for fun?”
“Are you having fun?”
She pauses and then laughs. “Not at the moment. I really want the turkey bacon croissant.”
“Then you should order the turkey bacon croissant.”
She stares at me for a moment and I think maybe rational thought has won her over when she snaps her fingers. “Maybe I need to be more specific with what I ask. Should I order the turkey bacon croissant?” She turns over the ball. “‘It is decidedly so.’ See? I just have to remember to be specific.”
“Or you could just make decisions for yourself,” I mutter under my breath.
“And be a stick in the mud like you? What do you even do for fun, Derek?”
“I work crossword puzzles, I play Scrabble, and I clean.”
She blinks at me. “You clean? For fun?”
I shrug. “My mother instilled the importance of cleanliness in me from a young age. It also helps with brain function,” I say, referencing our earlier discussion in the elevator, “something you might see if you organized your desk space once in a while.”
“Maybe it works better for your brain, but I thrive on organized chaos. I know where everything is at my desk.”
I find that hard to believe, but before I can say anything further, the waiter appears and takes our order. I can’t help but notice that he smiles at Katie, and I study her to see what exactly he is seeing. Katie could be the poster child for the girl next door. Her straight brown hair falls halfway down her back, but is cut in an angle to frame her heart-shaped face. Her eyes are a light brown with speckles of gold, and she has a dusting of freckles across her cheeks. The symmetry of her face is pleasant, so I guess I can see the attraction, but I find her attractiveness overshadowed by the chaos and disorganization that runs her life.
“Is that a magic eight ball?” The waiter points to the abhorrent toy she left on the table.
She smiles up at him. “It is. My friends got it for me recently.”
“May I see it?” he asks, holding out his hand. I’m about to remind him that his job is simply to take our order, but before I can, Katie is handing it over to him.
“I used to love mine. Let’s see if it still works. Will I be able to get this girl’s number?” He turns it over and grins. “‘You may rely on it.’ Hmm, I guess it still likes me.” His grin grows a little larger as he hands the toy back to Katie, who now appears to be blushing.
“You’re not really going to give him your number, are you?” I hiss as waiter-boy finally walks away.
She shrugs. “I think I have to. That is the way the dare works.”
“But you don’t know anything about him. He could be dangerous. He could be a serial killer.”
She chuckles. “Working here? Doubtful, but I could use that excuse for anyone. How do I know you’re not a serial killer?”
I’m so offended at her assertion that I respond without thinking my answer through. “Not only would I be incapable of taking a human life, but do you know how messy that would be?” I shudder at the mere thought of how much bleach it would take to erase blood stains.
