Page 51 of Reel Love

First: CIA or a spy. You go on missions for a few months at a time. Then you’re reassigned. You can’t get emotionally invested because your country needs you. You sacrifice romance for patriotism. Of course you can’t admit this to me, or you’d have to have me hunted down and captured—or worse.

The dots appear on her side of the chat box.I just snort-laughed and inhaled a part of my smoothie.

I have that effect on women.I joke. It’s something I’d probably never say in person, but here, online, I’m less inhibited—or maybe it’s just her.

You make women snort and choke?

Now I’m laughing.Not exactly. That didn’t end up sounding as smooth when you repeated it back to me as I thought it did when I typed it.

Neither of us type anything in the chat box for a moment. I spell TREBLE off her T in CUMQUAT.

Eight points?She types.

It’s the lack of sleep,I joke.It’s throwing off my game.

The lack of several minutes of sleep you lost imagining I’m a spy?

Exactly. And I’m gathering from your answers that I hit the nail on the head. You’re a spy.

She lays down BACCHIC, using her own C in CUMQUAT to build the eighteen point word. She’s fourteen points ahead now.

Bacchic, what is that? It’s new to me.

It’s something about being riotous. And, I’ve got a confession.

Oh. I’m all ears. Is it that you’re a spy?

Ha! No. It’s not that. I’ve been reading up on vocabulary words … and I subscribed to the Word of the Day on four platforms.

Mm hmm. Stockpiling weapons, I see. Well, you wouldn’t be a competitor if you didn’t arm yourself properly.

Then, without missing a beat, she types:You are eerily close inone odd detail of what you guessed I do for a living, but if I say that as my official answer, it will throw you off.

Well, that’s not cryptic at all.

Stop making me laugh.

Nevahhhhh! (Insert evil laugh).

She types a laughing emoji. And then asks:What’s your other guess?

Guesses. Plural. More than one guess. I’ve been giving this a significant amount of thought.

Okay, well, what’s your next guess?

I chuckle.

You are a bank robber. Or jewelry thief. You work heists in various cities. Can’t stay still or you’ll be caught. You are on America’s Top Fifty Most Wanted list. You actually work for the mafia. No. No. You’re related to the head of the mafia. You have a strong accent, much like the Godfather, but you’re a female, so … the Godmother?

It’s dead silent on her end. Did I go too far?

Then the dots appear.Oh. My. Gosh. I literally … no. I can’t tell you.

All these secrets are killing me slowly.I tease.You know that, don’t you? What did you just do?

Okay. Okay. I laughed so hard, I spit out what was in my mouth and dribbled smoothie down my shirt. I had to get up and go to my bedroom. I’m grabbing a clean shirt to change into. Give me a minute.

I smile, loving the fact that I made her laugh that hard.

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