Page 12 of The Love Hoax
I shake my head, maneuvering around him to ready my next shot. “You made assumptions.”
“Touché,” Adam says.
Earlier, when I saw the two men sitting near the pool table, something pushed me to suggest a wager. That something was Zane. I know it wasn’t fair to lure him but I have a problem with the sexist moniker so why not let him think I’m just a clueless ‘cougar?’ It’s why I took the comment in stride, pretending not to hear it. Now he’ll pay.
Also, I’m turning fifty, divorced, and in dire need of a confidence boost.
When I scratch, Adam says, “Come on Zane, give it your best shot.”
Which he does. I’m impressed with his skill. Clearly, he takes the game seriously. But I’m better. I grew up with a pool table in my parents’ home in Connecticut. I still play regularly when I go to visit.
The game is over quickly.
“Double or nothing?” I ask.
Zane plops in the chair and hands me the money. “Nah.”
I pocket the cash. “If it’s any consolation, you’re the best opponent I’ve had in ages. Adam, you up?”
He holds up his hands. “Too rich for my blood.”
Zane rolls his eyes.
Adam gestures to an empty chair. “Wanna join us, Evie?”
I sit down, taking another sip of my beer. “I’m starving.”
Adam waves over the waitress who takes my order and smiles at me. “It’s not every day we see Zane beaten like that,” she says before moving onto the next table.
Zane bristles and heads to the men’s room.
Adam grins at me. “Don’t mind him. He’ll be back to himself by tomorrow. Are you visiting the area?”
I say, “I came out here for my birthday week. I planned to spend it in the mountains with a friend. Last-minute change.”
Dorothy turns. “Did I hear it’s your birthday?”
“Yep.”
Sixty seconds later, Dorothy places a slice of gooey chocolate cake in front of me. “On the house. Happy birthday.”
Zane is back at the table. “How old are you, anyway?”
Adam appears mortified with his friend’s abysmal social graces.
“Turning fifty,” I say, looking at my watch. “In three and a half hours.”
Adam says, “Fifty? You look amazing.”
I wonder what fifty is supposed to look like these days. I’ve seen photos of my grandmother at this age and she looked ancient. Thank heavens for Pilates and hair dye.
Zane says, “You’re only a few years younger than my mom.”
Seriously sore loser.
I smile and eat my cake, then stand. “Thanks for a fun time. I better head to the hotel. I have a big hike ahead of me in the morning.”
Adam asks, “Which one?”
