"You're kidding me." Nick said in shock as he and Robbie walked back to his car after the movie. It was overcast, but the early afternoon sun was making an appearance above them for the first time that day.

"No, I'm serious!" Robbie's eyes were wide as she insisted.

"No way, man. I'll give you twenty-three, tops. And that's pushing it."

Robbie laughed and pulled out her wallet. "You wanna make it interesting? I have my driver's license in here, and I will bet you anything you want that I'm twenty-seven years old." No one ever believed her when she told them her age.

"Alright, I see how it is." He had a sudden idea. "If you can prove that you're twenty-seven, I'll take you out to any restaurant in Vegas. Any place you want."

Robbie smiled. He was working right into her hand. "OK, then, Stokes, let's see the magic number." They were at his car now, and she had her back to the passenger side door as she slowly, dramatically opened her wallet. She pulled out her license and held it up to Nick.

He laughed loudly. "You're kidding me! That's the best fake ID I've ever seen."

Robbie punched him playfully in the arm. "Dinner's on you, Mr. Stokes. I win." She said softly, silently cheering herself on as Nick moved closer.

"No, I think I do." He placed his right hand gently on her shoulder and moved down—she was so short—for a light kiss. It was not a particularly lengthy, or passionate kiss, but it was exactly what they both had bargained for. They broke apart smiling.