The Love Triangle

“But she’s very nice.”

He took a quick look at the sloppy signature above his. It looked like Alexandra followed by a scribble. He headed down the stairs to the basketball court and found her sitting on the bench, dripping with sweat, sipping a bottle of water. She looked up and smiled. “Well, look who’s here. Back for a re-match?”

He pretended to study her face for a moment. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

She laughed. “Very funny. It’s Kasey, right?”

“Yeah. And I still don’t know your name.” He noticed a light jacket with monogrammed initials draped over her gym bag and pointed at it. “Ah, but it begins with A.”

She nodded. “Very perceptive, Columbo. You’ve narrowed it down.”

“Wait, don’t tell me… Amy?”

“Nope.”

“Agatha?”

She furrowed her brow and pointed to her face. “Do I look eighty years old to you?”

“Sorry. Actually about fifty-five years younger.”

“Hang on, let me do the math… eighty minus fifty-five… zero minus five, borrow the one… why thank you, kind sir.”

“You’re welcome. But back to your name… you look like you’d have something really classy.”

She pointed at her face. “This sweaty mug looks classy to you?”

“Women don’t sweat, they glow.”

“Yeah, and I’m glowin’ like Secretariat.”

“Anyway, back to your name… Alexandra?”

Her eyes widened. “Damn, you’re good.”

“Really, that’s it?”

She nodded. “Yep. Mom wanted a boy and was going to name him Alex, so Alexandra was the next best thing.”

“So, do friends call you Alex? I hope not because I think Alexandra suits you better.”

“Nope.” She grabbed a towel and wiped her face. “You can totally call me Alexandra if you like.”

“I like.”

“Well, I’m about done here, but if you’re up for a little one-on-one, I’m game.”

“Why, you need to start your weekend beating the hell out of a guy?”

“Thought you might be one of those alpha males who hates losing to a woman and needs to get even.”

“Nah, I’m one of those renaissance men who treats women as equals. Though in your case I will admit you’re better than me at one thing.”

“Just one?”

“So far that’s the only thing we have to go on. I’m willing to bet I’m better at something than you are.”

She sat up straight. “What? Shooting pool? Poker? Let’s rock.”

“Planning a date.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m an expert at planning fantastic dates.”

“So, you’re saying you’re a great date?”

“You might not fall in love with me, but women are always entertained when I take them out. I’m a Jedi date master. I’m sure you couldn’t possibly beat me planning the ultimate fun date.”

She backed up a bit. “You asking me out?”

He shrugged. “Depends.”

“Depends? On what?”

“If you think you’re better than me at planning a date.”

“So what exactly are you proposing?”

“Two dates. We each plan one. Then decide which was the most enjoyable.”

“I must admit, I have not run into this clever tactic before. You’re taking advantage of my competitive nature as a backdoor method of asking me out. Surely you realize that I realize what you’re doing.”

“Of course. But the beauty of this is that if you decline I can simply assume you’re worried about losing the bet, rather than not being interested in me. And my fragile male ego wouldn’t be bruised, since, as you know, men can be devastated for weeks when turned down for a date. But you strike me as a woman who can’t turn down a challenge.”

She locked eyes with him for a moment with those fantastic eyes, sending a shiver through his body. “Okay. But I wanna see how creative you are, so let’s make this interesting. Hundred-dollar limit on the dates. And that includes a nice dinner.”

“A hundred bucks? We’re in New York City. If we do anything besides dinner we’ll be eating at a hot dog cart.”

“Then we’ll find out who’s more creative.” She stuck out her hand. “You agree to the terms?”

He shook. “It’s a bet. Oh, what does the winner get?”

“If I win, you buy me another dinner with no expense limit at the restaurant of my choice.”

“And if I win?”

She shot him a wicked grin and batted her eyes. “You would have already won by having the pleasure of my company for two evenings.”