"Hard to believe, I know . . ." With a smirk, Matt pushed his sweater's sleeves up
tanned and sculpted forearms. "But even the best swingers foul out from time to
time."
"I saw your first two dates vacate your table," Esther said. "I lost track of the third.
What was the reason for the last heave-ho? She's a vegan and you eat veal?"
"No. The vegan was Mindy, an hour ago."
"What about the redhead at eight thirty?"
"She said I reminded her of her ex."
"And the little blonde who just left? Why didn't she like you?"
"Actually, she did. I reminded her of her father."
"Ouch."
I tried not to laugh-and failed.
Matt noticed. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"I'm sorry," I said. Hoping to make it up to him, I slid over his Red Eye. "Here you go,
made with love."
Matt took a long hit and sighed. Then he laid his rosebud on the counter like a
carnation on a coffin-and picked his smartphone back up.
"Hey! You agreed to help us back here, remember?"
Matt's focus didn't falter. "Just one more check of my Pumpkin Pot."
"Your what?"