Page 82 of The Reason I Married Him
He sets his menu down, and with that signature smile, he says, “Says me.”
“Oh.” I cross my arms and lean back in my chair. “And who made you the authority of burgers?”
“The burger man.”
I snort. “Oh, I see. And when did you meet the burger man?”
“To keep a long story short, I met him a few years ago when I was at a book signing in Omaha. He told me that he was the burger man, so I asked him what the dos and don’ts of burgers are. After he told me, I asked if I could impart that wisdom to others. He anointed me, and now we’re here.”
“Wow,” I say with a shake of my head. “Is this how it’s going to be for a year? You making up short stories about your life and expecting me to believe them?”
“Yes,” he says with conviction.
“Ridiculous.” I reach across the table and take his menu from him.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Ordering for you.”
“Uh . . . how do I know you’re going to order me something that I like?”
“Just going to have to trust me now, aren’t you?”
He leans back in his chair. “That’s what marriage is built on, trust. Well, here’s my first test.”
“I’ve never heard of him,”I say while sipping my iced tea.
“You’ve never heard of Holt Green?” Wyatt asks, looking so perplexed that it’s actually kind of cute.
Wait, I mean funny. It’s funny . . . not cute.
I don’t know why I’d say cute.
Cute is not a word I associate with Wyatt . . . I mean sure, he’s attractive, but . . . ugh, never mind. Moving on.
“No. I don’t pay attention to sports.”
“But he isn’t just sports. He’s one of the highest paid players in the league. Your brother must talk about him.”
I shake my head. “Ryland knows better than to talk baseball with me.”
Distressed, Wyatt says, “Holt Green is the guy you see on all of those funny insurance commercials. He’s also a spokesperson for Hopper Almonds. He does that one commercial where he’s talking about the benefit of almonds, and he catches like ten in a row in his mouth without dropping one.” I shake my head. “Uh . . . he was one of the guest judges onAmerica’s Got Talent.”
“Wait,” I say, placing my hand on the table. “Are you talking about the baseball player who gave Renita the roller skater slash singer the golden buzzer?”
“Yes,” Wyatt says, tossing his hands in the air.
“Oh, I know who that is.”
“See, I told you. Hate that you know him from a reality TV show, but yes, Holt Green would be my celebrity lookalike.”
“That’s great, but I didn’t ask who your celebrity lookalike was. You asked me, then you decided to answer the question yourself.”
“Excuse me for having a conversation,” he says with a smirk.
“Here we are,” the server says as she sets our plates in front of us. “Two Hawaiian burgers with a side of sweet and sour sauce for dipping. Enjoy.”
“Thank you,” I say, then grab my napkin and set it on my lap.
