Amelie snatched the menu from his hands. “Well… aren’t you going to ask how? I mean… we’re not even old enough to get a room.”
Jack knew that didn’t matter. People can always be bought. He didn’t tell her that though. He simply stared for a really long time until she broke the silence. Which was another valuable lesson Jack learned that summer—when you’re dealing with women, it’s best not say everything that’s on your mind. The less you say, the better it is for you. He learned that women do not think like men. End of story.
She leaned in closer, further invading his space. “I have my mom’s credit card. Don’t worry, she never checks the bill.” Amelie waved her hand around in the air as though she were swatting at something. Jack’s eyes followed her hand. “Her accountant deals with all of that. So, anyway, I’ve seen Home Alone enough times now… I’m pretty sure I know how this stuff works.”
He frowned, looking back at her. “I can pay for the room, Amelie. We don’t need your mom’s money.”
“That isn’t the point, silly. A credit card makes us look official.”
Jack massaged his temples. Let it go, he told himself. He was tired and hungry and emotionally spent. He ordered pancakes and decided it was time to tell her his secret.
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