Page 40 of Keeping It Professional

“Yeah.”

Our desserts came out, delicious layered walnut cake, dripping with syrupy apricot filling. I couldn’t help thinking, if I brought some home, would Mom and Dad look at me as they once had? Could food buy love, if you piled on enough? I must’ve cooked Mom thousands of dinners, but she still couldn’t look at me without looking for Nick. She’d dart the quickest of glances over my shoulder, then her lips would twitch down, and she’d turn away. She blamed me. She always had.

“Miles? You okay?”

I realized I was glowering at my dessert. “Just thinking, you want to take a walk after?”

“Yeah, I’d love that.” She dug into her cake. I watched her eat, trying to stay in the moment. Tonight was a good night. A perfect first date. The past had no place in it, only what came next.

We finished dessert and got coffee to go. Outside, the night was dark, the winter air crisp. Christmas was gone, but the street was still festive, golden-white fairy lights strung between poles. They made the snow sparkle as it came swirling down. Sophie tilted her head back to catch a flake on her tongue.

“You’re going to trip, walking like that.”

She winked. “You’ll catch me.”

“Yeah, I will.” I slid my arm around her, just to make sure. She leaned up against me, her hair in my face. Her breath plumed out, frozen, and mingled with mine. I snugged her close. “Cold?”

“No, I’m okay.”

Up ahead, storefronts shone with the promise of warmth. I steered us in closer where the heat had seeped out. We peered in the windows at the displays, a pile of stuffed toys. An electric keyboard. A giant fake wedding cake with a price list on top: SINGLE TIER $150, 2-TIER $250. 4-TIER SUPER JUMBO $585.

Sophie pointed. “Look there.”

“What, at the cake?”

“No, the reflection.” She turned to look. I followed her gaze to a bright neon sign, flashing lights spelling out GAMES! ARCADE!

“What, you want to go play?”

“Bet it’s warmer in there.”

“Thought you weren’t cold.”

Sophie grabbed my hand. She dragged me across the street and I couldn’t help laughing. I felt like a kid again, off on some adventure. There’d been a time when I’d done things like this, set out not knowing where my day might lead. When I’d trusted surprises to be the fun kind, and sought them out eagerly wherever I could.

“Ooh, they haveDirt Bike Frenzy!” Sophie bounded ahead. She hopped on a dirt bike attached to a screen, and motioned for me to grab the one next to hers. “Put it on two-player and we can race.”

I plugged in a dollar and pressed for two-player. “How do we play it? Just pedal, or?—”

“Whoo!” Sophie hunched over, working her pedals. Up on the monitor, her bike shot ahead. I yelled outheyand raced to catch up, but a monster jumped out at me and sent my guy spinning.

“There’sbearson the track!” I swung round, indignant. Sophie’s little biker zoomed out of sight.

“They’re lions,” she called. “You have to shoot them!”

“Shoot them? How… Ugh! You know what? Screw this!” I stomped on my pedals and squirted ahead, dodging lions and eagles and loud fighter jets. When I rode uphill, it got harder to pedal. I yelled out again. “These areexercisebikes?”

“What, can’t keep up?”

“Oh, that’s it.” I leaned into the pedals. “I never skip leg day. You better watch out.”

“What was that? Can’t hear you way, way back there.”

I found the gun button and blasted a lion, and sped up a ramp that launched me into the air. I soared through the sky, over a jungle-choked canyon, ducking the fighter jets the entire way. Sophie was biking along the far side, and I landed in front of her and took off like a shot.

“Hey!What the?—”

“Who’s way back there now?” I slammed into a lion, too busy gloating, and Sophie whizzed by me and shot my guy off his bike. By the time he got back up, she’d ditched me again, but I got the rules now. She was dead meat. On lap two, I caught her coasting down a steep slope, and cut out in front so she crashed her bike. She shot me again coming round the next curve, but I got back up and chased her into a lion. We launched into our third lap neck-and-neck, crashing up on each other to send our bikesskidding. Sophie went skidding, then she looped back. I shot her, she shot me, and we flew off our bikes.

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