Page 47 of Zimyra

“Yes.”

“You’re that afraid of your family.”

“It’s not fear—it’s the fact that if I can avoid certain things, then that’s what I do.”

I take a breath and say, “You know what—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s cool. Just don’t let it happen again.”

I smile at his insinuation and ask, “And who am I supposed to introduce you as?”

“Your friend,” he replies.

“Okay,friend.”

He takes a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet and places it on the table.

I say, “No, please allow me,” I say, digging in my purse for my bank card.

“That’s insulting.”

“How so? I invited you out here. That means I cover the bill.”

“That may be what you do with your girls and all, but when you’re with me, I will never allow you to do anything like this. At work, that’s your kingdom. You open doors and all that. Fine. Out here, it’s my world.”

“You say that like you’re sure we’ll do this again.”

“We will. I can feel it.”

I laugh. “If you say so.”

When we step out of the restaurant, he peeps at his watch and says, “It’s still early. What else can we get into?”

“It depends on what you’re into. I know they have a game room down here somewhere. How about a game of table hockey?”

“Oh, you don’t want to see me at table hockey, sweetheart.”

“I think I do,” I tell him.

Men think they’re better than women at everything. I’m going to show him a thing or two.

“Ah’ight.” He says, “If I win, I get to ask you all the questions I want and you have to answer them.”

“Oh, heck no!”

He throws his head back and laughs. “Where’s all that confidence you had a moment ago?”

“Oh, I’m confident. I’m just not agreeing to answer all your questions. At the most, you can get two, and if I win, I get to ask you two.”

“Bet.”

We step inside and walk over to the table. He’s eager to get started because I know at least one question he’s been dying to ask me, which means he’s going to try his best to win by any means necessary.

The game begins. We have five minutes and whoever scores the most points wins. So far, I’ve scored four to his zero.

I say, “Looks like I got this in the bag.”

And as soon as those words leave my mouth, he scores.

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