cinematographer.
Howard cleared his throat. “Here we go: Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Southern California Quiz Bowl Qualifier. Tonight, competing for glory and a chance to go forward to the next round, Book ’Em, Danno; Menace to Sobriety; You’re a Quizzard, Harry; and Olivia Neutron Bomb. One team will make it through the night; the other three will be buried in ignominy. Our first contest is Book ’Em versus Menace.” He turned to Leah and grinned. “And what’s your name, little lady?”
Leah raised her eyebrows at him. “My name is Death to Sexism, little man.”
Howard ignored her and turned to the guy from Menace. “And you, sir?”
“I’m Al. You can call me Al.”
Howard faced front and grinned at the phone Don was holding up. “Let the battle commence.” He got serious. “How many stripes are on the United States flag?”
“Thirteen,” snapped out Leah.
“Contestants must use their buzzers first. Sorry, Book ’Em. Menace, do you have an answer?”
“Uh, thirteen?”
“That’s correct. Two points to Menace.”
Nina, Carter, and Lauren howled a protest, but Howard held up his hand. “Heckling won’t help you, Book ’Em. You know the rules.”
Leah looked apologetically over at her team.
“OK, next question: Montevideo is the capital city of which South American country?”
The guy from Menace squeezed his rubber chicken, which squawked.
“Uh . . .”
Howard waited.
“Uh . . .”
“Would you care to make a guess?”
“Hey,” said Leah, “no fair. If he clucked too soon, it’s my turn.”
“All right, your turn.”
“Uruguay.”
“Correct. Two points to Book ’Em. Next question: What is the official language of Greenland?”
A brief pause, then Leah slid up her whistle. “Greenlandic.”
“No way,” said the guy from Menace. “You made that up.” He squeezed his chicken in protest, multiple times.
“Google it, idiot,” said Leah. “Or ask Howard; he has the answers.”
“It’s true. She’s right,” said Howard. “For a bonus point, name the other language spoken in Greenland.”
“Danish,” said Leah.
Howard stared at her. He had fallen in love with Leah the first time she’d competed in one of his tournaments and had totally aced World Religions, followed by Royal History of England, and then Animals of the Serengeti. He loved her for her mind. And her curves.
“Is there anything you don’t know?” he asked, forgetting his microphone was on.
“Yes,” replied Leah. “I don’t know why you aren’t giving me that point.”
The bar erupted in laughter, and Howard frowned. “No lip, contestants. Bonus point withdrawn.”
Leah bit her tongue and tried to smile at Howard, but couldn’t make herself do it.
“Next question: What is the capital city of Canada’s Yukon territory?”
Squawk!
“Whitehorse.” The guy from Menace grinned at Leah. “I’m Canadian.”
She stared at him blankly. “Congratulations.”
Howard cleared his throat. “Last question of this section: Which sea separates the East African coast and the Saudi Arabian peninsula?”
Whistle!
“The Red Sea.” Leah was totally confident on this one and returned to the table in triumph: Book ’Em, six points; Menace, four.
“After a short break for refreshments, we will return with a little category I like to call . . . Books.” Howard grinned around, but no one was really listening. “And remember, folks, it’s two-for-one shots tonight, so get yourselves to the bar and become inebriated.” Don counted down, 3 . . . 2 . . . 1, on his fingers and then indicated he’d stopped filming. Howard dropped his smile and leaped forward to look at the footage.
Nina looked at Howard thoughtfully. “It’s his gift for witty repartee that sets Howard apart as a host.”
“He’s a poet, really,” agreed Leah.
“Let’s do these shots,” said Carter. “There are sober children in Africa who’d kill for these. We can’t waste them.”
So they did.
Nina stood at the podium—not touching it—and faced a different guy from Menace. He was good looking and cocky, and Nina could hardly wait to hand him his hat, metaphorically speaking.
Don had started filming, and Howard was channeling his quiz show host. “OK, folks, time for Books, or Literature as some people like to call it.”
“Stuck-up people,” said the guy from Menace.
“Literate people,” replied Nina.
“No bickering, please. Let’s keep it civilized.” Howard looked reprovingly at them. “ ‘Call me Ishmael’ is the opening line from . . .”
Nina whistled. “Moby-Dick.”
Howard nodded, but said, “Please wait for the complete question before answering.”
“Sorry.”
He frowned at her. “Who wrote Don Quixote?”
She whistled. “Cervantes.”
“Full name?”
Nina narrowed her eyes at him. Such a dick. “Miguel de Cervantes.”
“In the children’s books about a twenty-five-foot-tall red dog, what is the name of the dog?”
Squawk!
“Clifford!” Handsome was 100 percent confident on this one.
Howard snapped out, “Bonus question: Why did he grow so much?”
The