“Didn’t that present a conflict of interest?”
He snorted. “Justice lets you represent yourself, remember?”
“So you’re a lawyer.”
He nodded. “And you’re a hair stylist. I guess we've got the basics out of the way.”
“Yes, the important things," she agreed with a smile. "Career, marital status, children or lack thereof, and favorite sports team. What else is there?”
“Um…" He seemed to consider this. "Dog person or cat person?” She laughed. “Dog.”
“Me too. Chinese or Sushi?”
“Sushi, definitely.”
“You obviously prefer scotch to brandy. Pepsi or Coke?”
“Coke Zero. With lemon.”
“Ugh, how can you drink that stuff?” He made a face. “Okay let’s see…modern or classical?”
"Both. Although I have a soft spot for the classics."
He nodded. “Jazz or blues?”
"Definitely blues. It makes me want to take my clothes off.” The confession just slipped out.
"Good to know." The look he gave her made her blush all the way to her toes. "I'll have to beef up my collection of B.B. King. Rock or country?” Now it was Rachel’s turn to make a face. "Rock. But I like some Garth Brooks on occasion."
"So you could tolerate a little Johnny Cash?"
She smiled. "Tolerate being the optimum word there."
"Here's a tough one. Love or money?”
"Love of course."
"Do you think rich people and poor people answer that question differently?" he asked.
"You're rich, you tell me."
He laughed. "I'm not rich."
"Compared to me you are."
"I'll give you that,” he conceded. “Okay, how about freedom or security?"
She hesitated. “Security.”
"I would have chosen freedom."
“I think rich and poor people would answer that one differently."
“Probably. The red pill or the blue pill?”
She shrugged. “Blue.”
“Give or take?”
"Give of course."
“Of course." He looked out the window again. They had stopped, and the arena was just up the block. "Half-empty or half full?” She paused, considering the question and then just said, "Yes."
He wagged a finger at her, shaking his head. "That's cheating. Has to be one or the other."
"Then…half-empty."
He looked at her speculatively. "A pessimist then."
"Just lately, yes." She shrugged.
“On or off?”
She glanced at him, at the light in his eyes, and wondered what he was thinking.
“Off.”
"On." He disagreed, grinning.
“Wait…was that lights or clothes?”
He laughed and asked, “Top or bottom?”
She flushed and was glad the lighting in the limo was so dim. "Top."
"Looks like we'll have to pick this game up later."
The driver was opening the door and Rachel was glad. The seats were just a little to the left of the blue-line-section 101. And they were only a few rows from the glass.
“I can see them sweating," Rachel exclaimed, turning to Jake with wide eyes.
They were right behind the Red Wings' bench.
“Is that sexy or gross?”
She laughed. “A little of both.”