“Sorry, was I that obvious? I can’t help it, I grew up in the Bay Area in the eighties and nineties, I have a single reaction to hearing that someone grew up in Beverly Hills, and it’s— ”

“90210,” they said in unison, and laughed again. He used to hate telling people he grew up in Beverly Hills, but now that his whole background was on the Internet for the world to see, it made it easier.

“Anyway, I don’t live there anymore—I went to college at UCLA and have lived all over the L.A. area since then.”

“All done here?” The waitress didn’t wait for an answer and picked up their plates and swept them away. There was one last bite of burger on his plate he’d wanted. Oh well—they did have five pieces of pie coming.

“UCLA, of course. That explains the hat. I’m disappointed in this poor excuse for a disguise, you know. The same UCLA hat every time, and that’s where you actually went to college? Didn’t you ever think about something like a Yankees hat, or a USC hat, or something?”

He pulled the cap down over his face.

“Over my dead body.”

The waitress came back and slid the five plates of pie on the table.

“Here you go.”

Olivia stared at the pie-laden table.

“I can’t believe we actually ordered five different kinds of pie, but at least I wore a red shirt instead of a white one.” She shook her head. “But I have a feeling this pie will stain no matter what color the shirt.”

He pushed the cherry pie toward her.

“Stick with me, kid. One of the first skills they teach you in politician school is how to eat food around other people without spilling—even the messiest food.” He handed her a napkin. “Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll teach you.”

She picked up her fork and grinned at him.

“I might have to take you up on that.”

They both dove into the pie, pushing the plates around the table as they alternated bites. She ate with such enjoyment—she would pause and close her eyes after the first bite of each piece, as if she needed to shut the world out to concentrate on it. He wondered if she brought that kind of concentration to everything she did.

He would bet on it.

As they ate, they talked about pies they had known, which led to a discussion of best and worst meals they’d had while traveling, which led to airplane horror stories.

Finally, Olivia put her fork down with a sigh.

“Those were all delicious, but I can’t eat another bite.” She looked down at her shirt. “I should quit while I’m ahead anyway; I managed to keep this shirt cherry-free, I don’t want to push my luck.”