he time, but I think it's beginning to. Wanna know
where?"
Laughing, Mandi said, "Ah... no, I can guess. I can't tell you how long I'm
likely to live, Ed. I really don't know."
Nodding, Cade said, "Doesn't matter. I was just curious." Lifting her hand
upward to kiss it, he added, "And I hope it's a really big number."
Chapter Eleven
Near the end of the next block was a pub and microbrewery that had a couple
of pool tables. Mandi and Cade discovered the place to be almost empty, despite
large numbers of convention attendees wandering the streets.
Two guys at a table near the window nodded to Mandi and Cade as they entered
and approached the bar. Cade ordered a couple of beers and some quarters.
Gesturing around the pub, Mandi said, "Well, Ed, you did say you wanted to
get away from the crowds."
As the bartender pulled a couple of glasses of beer for them, he said, "It's
like this every year. The only convention that brings in less business is the
Salvation Army thing." Nodding toward the window, he added, "Which just happens
to be going on this week, too, of course. It's the worst week of the year for
everybody but the hotels and restaurants."
The reddish-colored beer cost five bucks a glass and it tasted rather
bitter. Cade decided that he preferred his usual Ice House beer as he set his
local brew on a table and put quarters in one of the pool tables.
"Don't like it, huh?" asked Mandi, nodding at Cade's beer.
"Not particularly. Too bitter. I'll break."
"Oh, really? We aren't going to flip a coin?"
"No, ma'am, we aren't. I've got a strong feeling that if you break, you'll
run the table."
Rolling a stick on the table to check it's straightness, Mandi said, "Oh,
but maybe I'm not much of a pool player, sir."
Watching her chalk the tip of her stick by spinning the stick and lightly
buffing the contact point, Cade said, "Uh, huh. That's what all the sexy blonde
hustlers say."
Cade made the four on the break and made another five balls before a bad
leave put the cue ball behind three of her stripes. His attempted jump shot made
the seven ball, but the cue ball followed it into the pocket.
Mandi grinned as she stepped up to the table. One after another she rather
elegantly pocketed all of her striped balls, including one that involved a long,
almost right-angle cut to reach a distant corner pocket.
When only the eight ball remained, she
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