Page 34 of Loving a Libra
“Let me hear it.”
“I found a convention in D.C. for restaurant and bar owners. I’ll convince him to go.”
“When is it?”
“Next week, and it’s three days.”
“Perfect. I’ll stay here and tell him I picked up some extra days if he gets on my nerves too bad.”
As we spoke, we ate and alternated removing blocks from the tower.
“You’ve been thinking mighty hard about your next move,” I teased.
“Shut up. I’m strategizing.”
“No. You’re delaying your ultimate demise. Pick a block.”
“Watch me work.”
She nibbled on a slice of pizza while studying what was left of the Jenga tower. Finally, she made her move, and I was certain it would be her last, but I was wrong.
“Ha!” She taunted me by sticking her tongue out.
“You got lucky as hell.”
It was my turn to remove a block, and my options were nonexistent. If the tower didn’t collapse when Devyn removed the last block, I didn’t stand a chance.
“You’ve been thinking mighty hard about your next move.” She mimicked my words from a few minutes ago.
“Not funny. I can’t believe it didn’t fall on your last move.”
“I got it like that. Let’s make a wager. If it collapses, you have to?—”
I swiped the tower, not waiting to hear her wager, and it collapsed all over the table.
“Let’s do it.”
She gasped. “Tariq! You didn’t even wait to hear what I had to say.”
“It don’t matter. Whatever you’re offering, I wanna do that shit.”
She shook her head. “I was gonna say, if it collapses, we have to christen every room in the house.”
“You done eating?”
It would be hell cleaning this shit up later, but I swiped everything from the table and onto the floor, then lifted her from the chair to the table.
“Tariq!” She squealed.
“We’re starting with the kitchen. Open up and give me my dessert.”
“I fucked up,” Maurice shared.
We’d arrived in D.C. about thirty minutes ago and were in an Uber headed to the hotel where the convention was held, and where we were lucky enough to find two rooms at the last minute.
“How so?”
“With Devyn.”
