Prandi smiled at Paul, flashing ocher eyes that glittered with a dangerous fire. Jameson recognized that look – it was the look that Prandi gave whenever she was out to win, like when she made the first incision during a particularly difficult dissection or answered one of the professor’s tricky questions during a lecture.

Jameson almost pitied Paul for the beat-down he was about to receive…

“Oh really, Paul? The greatest single night of my life, you say?” Her lilting voice was menacing despite its sweetness.

“Yeah, baby. Just me, you and the mechanical bull.”

“I think the key word there, baby, was the word ‘single.’ Because I’d rather be single for a lifetime of nights than ride your bull.”

Paul had just shoved another fajita into his mouth and he began choking on it, staring at Prandi with wide-open eyes as if he couldn’t believe his ears. No girl in her right mind had ever turned him down.

And over in his corner, Jameson was coming to the unsettling realization that he was in love. Again.