“If they sing 'Endless Love' or 'No Air,' I'm disowning them both.”

“I kept my head down and my mouth full. I didn't want Frankie's sharp eyes or tongue focused on me any more than necessary. It was a lot easier with Daniel taking up half of the food and most of the air."What about it, Ella?" he asked when everything was gone except the parsley garnish. "When do we get the pleasure of your vocal stylings?""I don't sing.""You mean you won't sng," Sadie corrected. I tried to be charitable about her treason; she goes pretty brainless around Daniel. "Ella sings really well.""I'm sure she does." Daniel tipped his beer glass in my direction. "In fact, I bet she could totally murder 'Don't Stop Believin'." A song that is actually one of my guilty pleasures. I think he probably knew that. I think he probably had himself a lovely chuckle over it.Then he whispered, "Coward."In another story, the plucky little heroine would have slapped both hands onto the table, making it wobble a little on its predicatbly uneven fourth leg. She would then have taken both hands, ripped the long scarf from around her neck and, chin high and scar spotlit, stalked to the dais, leaped up, and slayed the audience with her kick-ass version of "Respect." Or maybe "Single Ladies," for the sheer Yay factor.In this version,I gave Daniel what I hoped was a slayer look and busied myself refolding my napkin.He was,not surprisingly, unfazed. "Can I ask you a question?"I sighed. "Will my answer to that one make any difference?""None whatsoever.""Fine," I grumbled. "Ask." I didn't have to answer.He wasn't my Hobbes."Why are there interstate highways in Hawaii?"I gaped at him. "That's your question?""Nope." He leaned back in his chair, propping one foot on the other knee. "That's a question. My question is this: What's the one thing you should ask yourself before getting involved with someone?""Seriously?""Do I look serious?"Maybe not serious, but vaguely deadly. Still,it was an interesting question, especially coming from Daniel Hobbes. I thought for a second. "'Will he make me happy?'""You think?" Daniel asked, the unfolded himself and got to his feet. "I'm outta here. Who's coming?”

“He got her out of her jacket. In less than ten seconds." Frankie shook his head. "God help her if he tries to get her out of something else.""Oh,no.He wouldn't...You wouldn't let him...""For the record, I was kidding. But try to give them both just a little credit, if you would,please.”

“Where are we going?""East. To where the sun rises.""Seriously?"He thumped the dash-not too hard-and I actually felt a little burst of warm air. "You've been to Long Beach Island, right?You told me that in an e-mail.""yeah, Surf City.""We have a house in Barnegat Light. I thought we'd go there. We'll have breakfast somewhere and come back. You okay with that?"The beach. In late December. At night. "I'm absolutely fine with it.""So," he said."So.""We okay?""I think so," I answered. "I hope we'll be a lot better than that.""Yeah,me,too.”

“What do you know about 1969, anyway? It was after your time.""I know everything." He gave me that sleepy-eyed smile of his. "Love or money, I'm afraid.""Great," I sighed, unable not to think about Alex and trips to Europe and the Hannandas with their Prada bags. "The two things that show absolutely no hint of ever coming my way. Shoot me now.""I can't, darling girl. No arms. Besides, even if I had the ability, I would never do such a thing. It would be dastardly.And...""And?""Ah,Ella.Fond of you as I am, there is no passion in my feelings.""Love or money," I droned."Love or money," Edward agreed.”

“When Marino's needs us, we chip in.I just hate when chipping involves waiting tables. I have to write down orders so I don't forget them, am scarily clumsy with hot plates, and, humiliatingly, have to get someone else to bring the wine or beer when customers order it, because I'm not eighteen, and it's illegal for underage me to seve alcohol.”

“I'm sorry I looked. Or saw, I guess. I didn't go digging through your book. The pages fell out.""Yeah. I kinda figured that might have been what happened." He scuffed one heel against the cement. "The book fell out of my bag again...and,well..."And,well, there he was,forgiven."Zippers," I said. "One of mankind's better inventions. Your bag has one; I've seen it.""You see much, Grasshopper."I blinked at him."C'mon. Kung Fu?" He let go of his knees and sliced both hands through the air in a choppy spiral. "Shaolin monk fighting against injustice while searching for his long-lost brother in the Old West?"I shook my head. "Nope.Sorry."""Sad. I bet you wouldn't recognize 'Live long and prosper,' either.""Nope.""How did I know? My dad got me into seventies TV.It's awfully brilliant. Or brilliantly awful, maybe." He had relaxed and was looking monumentally pleased with seventies television or himself or something.You're awfully beautiful, Alex Bainbridge.I managed to keep that one to myself,but... "You're really good." That one got away from me. "Your drawing, I mean.”