Benji returned a couple minutes later with the biggest mug I’d ever seen and he threw himself in the armchair. “So, you come here often?” he asked and I couldn’t help but giggle.
“Oh, look at me using bad pickup lines on you when I said I wouldn’t make a move.” He grinned at me. “Is this the time for me to ask if you want to come up and look at my etchings?”
“Or maybe what a nice boy like me is doing in a place like this?”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Or if you work here. Because I like you a latte,” he said.
“Huh?”
He gestured at his latte. “I like you a latte. Get it? A lot…a latte?”
I burst out laughing. “Oh my God, that’s terrible. Did you just make that up?”
“No, no, no, no, no. I refuse to take credit for something that bad. I’m much smarter than that.”
“It is bad. I think I’d prefer the etchings,” I said and he cracked up, doubled over, and clutched his stomach.