Joe leaned back in his chair, the neon café light flickering over his face. Nadya Riot tilted her head, her eyes burning with mischief.
“Don’t present your body to me,” Joe said firmly, holding up a hand. “I’ve been engaged to Nelly Furtado ever since her Try video back in the early 2000s. Spiritually, emotionally… maybe even cosmically.”
Nadya arched an eyebrow. “Cosmically engaged?”
“Absolutely,” Joe said. “The day that video dropped, the universe mailed me the invitation.”
She smirked. “So I’m just out of luck, then?”
“Not quite,” Joe replied, leaning in conspiratorially. “I do have someone for you. The future president of Peru… and the South American Union. Old friend of mine. Name’s Nicholas. Sharp dresser. Knows how to survive coups and cook ceviche.”
Nadya tapped her fingers on the table, considering. “You’re trying to set me up with a politician?”
“Not just a politician,” Joe said with a grin. “A romantic revolutionary. Big difference.”