Page 42 of Sharkbait
Oh my God, stop talking.
“Thechampagnewasn’t so great. That’s what I meant when I said I’ve had better. You were asking about the champagne, right Callie?”
“I was asking about theevent,” she says smoothly.
“Oh.”
“Let me clarify, though,” Calliope continues, “in case there’s any confusion. Theschoolevent, not the sex event between you two cuties.” She flashes a smile at James. “But hey, I’m all ears if there are further details either of you would like to share about that.”
How many details does the woman want? I already told her and Mabel way more than I was comfortable sharing last night.
I was trying to be a more generous friend.
Sharing is caring and all that.
Ralph puts his head in his hands and groans.
“What? I write romance! Everything is fodder. Even your sister’s sexcapades. ”
“You write romance, huh?” James asks while wiping the bar down. I do my damnedest not to watch his forearms while he works.
“I do.” Calliope beams. “The dinosaur kind.”
“Huh. I wasn’t aware there was a dinosaur kind.”
James gives me a quick, knowing look. One that says “Don’t worry. I got this.”
He’s taking the focus off me, like he instinctively knows exactly what I need.
“Oh, there’s every kind!” Calliope says. “The possibilities are endless in romance, the subgenres infinite.”
“So do you think you two will do it again?” Mabel fires an enthusiastic question at James and me.
Well, that didn’t last long.
“Because how awesome would that be?” She squeals, then full-on gasps. “Oh my God! We could triple date! Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Please raw dog again, guys! Please?”
The music in my head doesn’t ramp up this time. It goes full blast right from the get-go.
Mabel stands and grabs her purse. “Wally, why don’t we head out, so they can close up early and do their thing.”
“‘Come, for I am drinking stars!’” I shout.
Everyone stares at me and my weird outburst.
I continue, “According to legend, these words were spoken by this seventeenth-century French monk the first time he tasted champagne.”
It’s silent.
I watch several seconds tick by on the “It’s Miller Time” wall clock across the room.
“You’re doing theJeopardything again,” Ralph says on the sly from the corner of his mouth.
“You think I don’t know that?” I hiss.
“Ooooh, the ‘Jeopardything!’” Mabel claps. “That sounds fun!”
It’s not.
