Words With Fiends Read Online Free PDF

trifolded piece of paper. “Nope, but I’ve got a coupon for that new tapas place up the street. How about I order us in a few appetizers, and then we dig into the pie and ice cream for our entrée?”
    â€œSounds like a plan. You call, and I’ll put the pie in the oven to warm up.”
    â€œSure,” Darla agreed as she pulled her phone from her pocket. “And then—”
    Her reply was interrupted by a series of electronic tones that sounded like a small xylophone. Jake, who had started toward the kitchen, paused and looked back at her. “Cute. New ring tone?”
    â€œNo, just means it’s my turn to play. Hang on.”
    Squinting at the screen of her smart phone, Darla thought a moment and then swiped a few letters across the screen. Satisfied, and with a little mental fist pump—
fifty-one points!
—she hit “yes.” Another xylophone sound played, and then she frowned. “Crud, now I’ve got all vowels, except for a stupid L.”
    â€œDon’t tell me,” Jake said with a wry grin. “You’re playing that word game, the one like Scrabble that got that Baldwin actor thrown off an airplane.”
    â€œNo—maybe—okay, so I am. But don’t worry, I’m not hooked.
I
can quit anytime.”
    â€œYeah, yeah, I’m sure that’s what he said, too.” Jake’s grin broadened. “But I have to say, I don’t get it. Making words sounds like a pretty boring way to kill time.”
    Darla shook her head.
    â€œIf you’re just playing one game, then maybe, but not the way most people play. You can have multiple games going simultaneously, so it’s always your turn somewhere. And you can accept random invitations from people you don’t know, which can be interesting, because you can chat at the same time you’re playing.” She paused and smiled. “I might even be playing with Mr. Baldwin, himself, and not know it, since you can use a fake name. But the best part is that since it’s all one-on-one, if you have a bad round with one person, you can still be kicking butt with someone else.”
    â€œI don’t know, it sounds like you’re hooked to me,” Jake replied. Then, assuming a “Mother Confessor” attitude with folded hands and pious tone, she went on, “So, my child, just how many different
friends
are you playing with right now?”
    â€œEleven,” Darla mumbled, realizing she’d momentarily gone into zealot mode over defending the game, and now feeling like she’d just stood up at a twelve-step meeting to confess. Then, rallying, she added, “But that’s nothing. Heck, Martha told me she usually has twenty games going at a time. Besides, it’s educational, unlike that little jewel game that some people play,” she finished with a triumphant glance at her friend.
    Jake dropped the abbess routine and shot her a mock-offended look.
    â€œI’ll have you know that my little jewel game promotes hand-eye coordination, which is important for someone of my advanced age. And it also helps distract me from smoking, so no apologies here. Now, why don’t you see if you can tear yourself away from your game long enough to order us some food.”
    Half an hour later, the laptop and paperwork had been shoved aside in favor of several small side dishes ranging from calamari to chorizo, all neatly arranged in their to-go containers atop the chrome table. Darla had claimed one of the two small tweed wing chairs that Jake reserved for client seating. In just a few minutes, the pair made significant headway into their impromptu meal, complemented by two frosty mugs of light ale Jake had scavenged from her usually empty refrigerator.
    â€œIce cream is one thing, but I’m not much on cold beer in the winter,” Darla said between sips. “But I have to say I can’t think of anything better to wash this all down