Page 14 of If It Can't Be Us

I hesitate. “Sure… What do you have in mind?”

“Will you excuse me for a few minutes?”

“Of course.” I raise my eyebrows, wondering what he is about to do.

He walks off, leaving me alone. I pick at the charcuterie board, inwardly smiling. Tonight just might be fun. This may be the perfect start to my new life in a new city.

After several minutes, he reappears with a stack of cash.

“What’s all that for?”

“This is the game, Walker. We each get ten questions,” he says, handing me ten one-dollar bills. “You can only answer with one sentence, and you can’t ask a question that the other has already asked.” He grabs two fifty-dollar bills. “These,” he says as he hands them to me, “are for passing. Only two passes are allowed.” He then hands me a twenty-dollar bill, two ten-dollar bills, and two five-dollar bills. “These can be used for half-truths, to ask for more details about a question, or to ask a question that’s already been asked. You can raise the stakes or trump the other person with more money. Whoever runs out of money first loses, and the winner keeps the pot.”

I’m amused. “Okay, two things: one—what is a half-truth?”

“A half-truth can be used anytime, but… say you run out of twenties and want to pass, you can say ‘half-truth’ and give a vague response that is part of the truth but not the whole truth.”

I nod. “Alright, second—isn’t this more exciting for me? This is all your money.” I laugh. “What’s in it for you?”

“What’s in it for me? The chance to get to know you better through a friendly betting match, which I happen to love! Plus, I’m competitive by nature. I love winning, whether there is money on the line or not. I’ll go first.” He places a one-dollar bill between us with a confident grin. The seat next to me is now occupied, but Leo sits at the end of the bar, leaning casually with his elbow on the counter, a glint of challenge in his eyes. There is ample room for us to play.

“Where did you move from?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Salt Lake City.”

“Utah? Beautiful state. I’ve been there a few times for the Sundance Film Festival and skiing.” He takes a sip of his old fashioned. “You’re up, Walker.” He tips his glass my way.

I haven’t been called by my last name since high school. I don’t know why, but I find it endearing.

I place a dollar on top of his. “Are you from London?”

“Are you sure you want to ask that? What if I say no? Then you’ve wasted a question, and you still won’t know where I’m from.”

“Okay, I see your point.” Cautiously, I rephrase, “Where in the U.K. are you from?”

“London,” he says, his eyes shining with amusement. “My turn.” Another dollar goes into the ‘pot’.

Noah comes over with our food.

“Thanks, mate,” Leo says.

“You two need anything?” Noah asks.

Leo looks at me in question.

I shake my head. “I’m good. This looks incredible.”

With a nod, Leo gives Noah a look that says,I’ll let you know if I need you. He turns back to me as I take a bite.

I let out a moan. “Oh my God, this is so good.”

His expression turns serious. “Do you need some privacy?” He says it all British-like,priv-uh-see.

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I may need to get a room for me and this short rib.”

He laughs and continues, adding to the pile of money. “What do you do for work?”

I swallow and sip my wine. “I’m an architect.” His eyes widen as he lifts his brows in surprise. I’m accustomed to that response, working in a predominantly male industry.

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