Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“But you’re interested.”
“Very.”
George poked the straw in and out of the to-go cup. “This is a dangerous line of conversation. Topic change, please.”
I nodded. “Why did you move? We had good seats in the second row.”
“It was too people-y. A family flopped down in front of me and an enthusiastic girlfriend of one of the players and her posse sat behind me. They kept knocking their knees in my back. I needed quiet to go through the new data you sent me.”
“Oh, did you notice anything in the numbers?”
“I caught a few details. I can report that the home team’s star pitcher is partial to a fastball, which hasn’t been effective for him this season. And the visiting pitcher has a more varied approach,” George reported. “He likes a curveball and something called a slider, which I assume is not a delicious tiny burger. I have no idea what any of that means in terms of the game itself. That’s where your baseball expertise comes in.”
“Hmm.”
“What will you do with the information?” he asked, handing me the iPad.
“Gather it and come up with interesting ways to apply it. That’s what the assignment calls for. Announcers at sporting events, especially televised ones, spout random info, ranging from trivia to player stats. For example, if there’s an unusually high-scoring game, they’ll give a short history lesson and maybe apply a few numbers. It sounds like filler, but it’s really not. Every scrap of data gets used.” I gestured toward the mound. “Including famous pitchers who always lead with fastballs, the time of year, and field where they played.”
“Will that pitcher be famous someday?” he asked, inclining his head.
“Not for his baseball career. Junior college ball is for fun.”
“The scouts wanted you, though. You played at a junior college.”
I smiled wanly. “Yeah, I was supposed to transfer, but then my mom died and…everything changed. I should have known they wouldn’t be interested in me at that level, but I kept hoping for a miracle. It was a nice dream while it lasted.”
“Oh.”
“So…how’s Fig Newton?” I asked, shamelessly changing the subject. Dwelling on past failures was a downer.
“Fine. I gave him our notes, but he still hasn’t asked her. I think he’s worried that he’ll use all of his conversational skills on getting the date and he won’t know what to say if he’s sitting across the table from her.”
“That, my friend, is where the Internet comes in handy.” I typed a prompt on my iPad and scrolled. “Here’s a blog post with a hundred and sixty first-date questions. You should forward this to Newton.”
“That’s far too many choices for Newton. He’d memorize the article and recite each question like a robot. Assuming he gets that first date, he’ll need a short list. Can I see?”
I slid my iPad over and studied George’s profile while he read through the uninspiring suggestions. His long eyelashes seemed to caress his cheeks. It was probably a trick of light and shadows, softening his sharp angles. Fuck, he was pretty. No, that wasn’t it. He was too edgy for that adjective. He was more of a jumble of fascinating contrasts and—
Now he was staring at me expectantly. Way to zone out, Baker.
“Those last couple aren’t so bad,” I commented.
“Which ones? We have: What is essential to a friendship? What are you most grateful for? What’s your favorite smell? Or…what is the most interesting fact you know?”
“Smell and facts.” I leaned in to sniff his hair. “You smell like a hot dog.”
“Thanks?” He rolled his eyes and scrolled on. “It’s too easy to give a monosyllabic reply to that one and Newton might not know how to finesse smell into a lively discussion.”
“Interesting facts is a good one. Add that.”
“Oh, no. That’s worse,” George replied, pulling his sweatshirt from his tote bag and yanked it over his head. “You cannot ask a scientist their favorite facts. First of all, there’s no way to choose just one, and they’d end up talking about work all night.”
“But maybe that would be a good starting place for them. Let’s test it.” I cleared my throat, lowering my voice before asking, “What’s the most interesting fact you know, George?”
He set the iPad on his lap facedown and crossed his arms. “I can’t answer impossible questions.”
“All right, let’s narrow it to…space. Hit me with some trivia.”
“Okay. I love trivia. Did you know there are more trees on Earth than stars in the Milky Way?”
“What? No chance,” I huffed incredulously.
“It’s true. There are three trillion trees on Earth and approximately four hundred billion stars in our galaxy. However…fun fact—there are more stars in the universe than grains of sand on Earth.”
“Whoa. How do we know that’s true? Who counts sand, for fuck’s sake?”
“No one. It’s a guesstimate based on research. And that’s why this is a bad question for two scientists on a date. They’d end up pontificating and citing sources over a candlelight dinner. It’s too d-dicey.”