“Cleveland. You. Yes. No.” Jameson said levelly just as Becca approached. “I’d go to Cleveland.”
She was a bit shocked. Not Paris. Not Beijing. Not the bottom of the ocean. “Cleveland.” she repeated, obviously confused.
Now Jameson had the upper hand. She threw him a curve earlier and made him feel rediculous. It’s a game, flirting, and now he had the advantage.
“Sure, it’s a hamlet.” he said matter of factly, sipping his beer.
Becca wasn’t sure about where this was going. But she played along. “Sure…I can see that. After all, there’s…...” trailing off intentionally.
“Well, there’s the rock ‘n roll museum, um…architecture…culture, you know. It is Cleveland.”
She was on the ropes, so he continued. “So, Cleveland, with you, there would be beer, yes on the war, no on the religion.”
“You want war,” she said “but not religion?”
“Sure!” Jameson exclaimed. “Listen, I’m taking you because I want things to be fair.”
“Fair?” Becca frowned.
“In love and war.”
At first, Becca thought Jameson had lost his mind. But quickly she caught on and started playing the game. “That was an important question, Jameson. And a lot was riding on your answer. And you know what?”
She paused to stir up the tension. He leaned in naturally, as if the fate of the world rested on her very next words.
“You passed, but just barely.”
“Oh, really.” Jameson said, confidentally. “Tell me what place is better than Cleveland and I might just be tempted to buy you a cappuccino. I mean, honestly. Cleveland rocks!”
The game was in full motion. She smiled, touching his arm lightly. “Okay, bucko, another important question. What kind of cappuccino? Starbucks or something local?”
“A grande cafe mocha with whip cream, and as much as I love supporting local businesses, nobody quite mixes it like Starbucks.”
“You lost me at grande,” Becca said, practically purring. “You’ll have to earn back my respect.”
“And how can I do that?” Jameson asked.
“Well, obviously, you’re driving me to Cleveland.”