I went outside and stood on the sidewalk for a moment, sucking in cold air. The kiss had actually been pretty damn terrific. Not that it was going to lead to anything, but it was terrific all the same. I pulled myself together and came back in and pretended to hand Burlew a cup of coffee.
Burlew took the coffee and looked at me blank-faced.
“What do you say?” I asked him.
“Thank you.”
“What else?”
Burlew was stumped.
“Tell her your name,” I said.
“Larry Burlew.”
“My name is Jet,” I told him.
Silence.
I jumped back in. “Tell her you think her name is unusual. Ask her if it means something.”
“That's stupid,” Diesel said. “He'll sound like a dork.”
“What would you suggest?”
“I'd get right to it. I'd tell her I was going to catch the Knicks game at the sports bar down the street, and I'd ask her if she wanted to join me.”
“You can't just say 'Thanks for the coffee' and then ask her out to a bar. It's too abrupt. And how do you know she's a Knicks fan?”
“It doesn't matter. It's a guy thing. It makes him look like a guy. If he says something dorky about her name, she'll think he's a pussy. Anyway, if she wants to go out with him she'll say yes. If she doesn't say yes you know it's a lost cause and you move on.”
“I don't like basketball,” Burlew said.
“What do you like?”
“I like opera.”
Diesel was hands on hips. “You're shitting me.”
Burlew fixed his attention on the display case. “There's a pork
roast missing. Are you sure you didn't sell anything?”
“I gave it away. It was a charity thing. Girl Scouts.”
Diesel's attention wandered to the street. “Hey, get this,” he said. “Coffee Girl must be off work for the day. She's got her coat on, and her purse over her shoulder, and it looks like she's coming over here. She's out of the coffee shop and crossing the street.”
“Oh no,” Burlew said. “She doesn't have more coffee, does she?”
“No,” Diesel said. “No coffee.”
The bell chimed on the front door, and Jet walked in. “Hi,” she said to me. “Your cousin is going to make me employee of the month for selling so much coffee.” Her attention turned to Diesel. “Hello,” she said.
“He's gay,” I told her. “Flaming.”
Jet sighed. “I knew he was too good to be true.” She looked over at Larry Burlew.
“Straight as an arrow,” I said.