Page 55 of When Stars Collide
“Yeah. You know, like the ones you played in high school.”
“You played drinking games in high school?”
“You didn’t?”
He tried to answer me, only to be cut off by the band commencing their first set. I strained to hear what he was saying, but quickly gave up, pointing to my ears and shrugging. Resigned, he stood up and moved to the cushion next to me.
“I said that I’ll play your little drinking game under one condition.”
“And what would that be?”
“Anything said on this rooftop, stays on this rooftop.”
“Whoa, settle down. This isn’t Las Vegas. The game I’m proposing is Two Truths, One Lie. You get to make up your own content.”
He remained silent, even thoughtful. “Do we have a deal?” He held out his hand for me to shake, giving me a taste of what it must feel like to be on the receiving end of one of his many successful business transactions. I looked up from his hand, meeting his eyes.
“Deal.” I shook his hand at the very moment our waitress returned with our drinks.
“Okay, so how does this go?” he asked, picking up a shot between his thumb and index finger.
“We each take turns revealing two true things about ourselves and one lie, while the other person guesses which statement is which. If the person making the guess correctly identifies the lie, then the person giving the statements must take a shot. If they don’t, then they have to take a shot.”
“Sounds pretty straightforward.”
I turned my body to face him on the couch, picking up a shot glass from where they were perched on the edge of the fire pit. “I’ll start.” I racked my brain, finding that the scotch from earlier was already beginning to work its magic. My thoughts were cloudy, if not jumbled. Next to me, Phineas sat intently, waiting for me, and I would be lying if I said it wasn’t making me the least bit nervous. “Okay, I think I have it.”
Phineas leaned back on the couch. “About time. I was beginning to think the Second Coming was going to start before you did.”
I narrowed my eyes, slamming the shot in my hand and grabbing a new one. “Oops,” I said, holding up the empty glass.
“And if you keep that up, this game will be over before it even had the chance to start.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re quite the condescending drunk?”
“Can’t say as I’ve been called that while drunk. Sober, however, that’s a different story.” He held up his shot glass. “And I’m not drunk. I’ve only had one, remember?”
“Well, that’s about to change.”
“We’ll see.”
“Okay,” I began, sorting through the tidbits of my life before settling on two truths to present to him. “Teal is my favorite color; I’ve never undergone any type of surgical procedure; I was a champion junior equestrian.”
“The second one,” he answered without hesitation.
“What? You’re not even going to think about it?”
“Am I right or not?”An annoying grin overspread his face when I reluctantly downed my shot.
“How did you know?” My head spun ever so slightly as I coughed.
“Oh, come on, Mena, give me more credit than that. You wear teal, or some variation of blue, quite a bit, and your favorite part ofLove Me Tendercenters around the protagonist’s volunteer work at her other love interest’s ranch—at least, that’s where the majority of your editorial notes were focused. It would have been obvious to anyone who’s read your notes that you have actual, real-life knowledge in that area. Taking those points into consideration, it was an easy choice.”
“I’ll try not to be so easy next time,” I lamented, still stunned by his observational accuracy. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea, after all. “You seriously notice what I’m wearing? That’s a bit on the stalker side, don’t you think?”
Unfazed, he plucked another glass from the edge of the fire pit and handed it to me. “I’m sure the act of stalking someone requires more free time than I’ve had since I was in college. I notice things. My attention to detail is impeccable. That’s kind of an important trait for someone in my line of work … and yours, also.”
“Fine, my observational skills need some work. Quit rubbing it in and take your turn.”
