“I met a man from Columbia who had a table for a back. I asked if it was a coffee table. He got offended and thought I was stereotyping him. How was I supposed to know it was a Three-drawer Wuchow Console Table?”

“A hammer alone on a coffee table doesn’t kill someone. But a man in a business suit with hemorrhoids might. How that business suit got hemorrhoids I have no idea.”

“Just so you know,” I inform him, “one day, I’m going to get tired of sharing your affection with that coffee table and I’m going to make you choose.” “Just so you know,” he mimics me, “I would chop that table up and use it for firewood before I would ever choose anything over you.”

“That execution will take place here." She runs her fingertips over the table beneath her. "On this table. I thought it would be interesting to show you.""I knew what would happen when I came here," I say. "It's just a table. And I'd like to go back to my room now.”

“We have some nachos left.” Carlos motioned to a plate on the table. “But I don’t suppose you’re interested.”“I already ate.” Ian sat at the end of the table.“Anyone we know?” Carlos’s amber eyes twinkled. “Ouch.” He glared at Toni.”

“And all the while I try very hard to keep my eyes from darting to Sean because I'm quite certain that no one at the table will be able to miss how I look at him and how I find him looking back.”