“Okay. I’ve been thinking about this name thing for a while. How’s this for a deal?” He put down his knife and fork and leaned into the table, stabbing me with his eyes. “How about we make it a friendly little challenge? I could tell you you had to guess until you got it right. Or what might be more fun is I’ll give you a week to guess my name. Seven chances. Every day you can ask a few questions, then come up with what you think my stupid ass first name is. If you’re right, I’ll take you out to a gourmet dinner in the city or Tahoe.”
“And if I’m wrong?”
“You owe me a kiss. One per wrong answer.” He leaned back in satisfaction.
“Just a kiss? One measly kiss?”
“Oh, I don’t want the measly ones. I mean a real, God of Love kiss. Something to set my ass back a couple a notches.”
What? A kiss? Now I really laughed. Right. Me, giving him a humdinger of a kiss? Right. Who were we kidding?