New Jersey.
Princeton University.
Outside Peggy's apartment building.
Lisa was already there, waiting. The second Adam's car rolled up, she scurried over with a big grin, opening his door like he was royalty or something.
"Boss, dinner's all set, and that jerk's been hauled off by the pro you sent," she chirped.
"Cool," Adam said with a nod, strolling toward the apartment.
No need to meet the guy face-to-face. Distance keeps the fear factor alive, right? Leave the pros to handle the dirty work. Kate had hooked him up with a seasoned cop—loaded with experience and connections. Adam trusted him to sort it out his way.
All he had to do was convince Peggy's sister to ditch the loser and clear out the drama around Peggy. Easy enough.
"Didn't peg Peggy for such a badass," Lisa said, trotting alongside him. Sensing his good mood, she grinned. "A pretty little scientist girl, throwing punches like that? Too cool!"
"Heh," Adam slowed his step, chuckling. "It's not her first rodeo."
"What?!" Lisa gasped, playing along. "For real?"
"Yup. First victim was our buddy Sheldon," Adam said, laughing. "Back in high school. They were both, like, eleven."
"Wait, if they're friends, why'd she hit him?" Lisa asked, wide-eyed.
"He had it coming," Adam said, shaking his head as the memory hit him.
It was during Peggy's parents' messy divorce. Peggy was testing the rebel waters, and her mom, still hovering, pushed her to hang out with "similar" kids like Sheldon while signing her up for Bible choir—hoping some divine vibes would straighten her out.
One Sunday, Sheldon showed up all hyped for a stamp-collecting club meetup, only to find out it was canceled. Apparently, he was the only one who'd RSVP'd. He couldn't believe it—stats said stamp collecting was trending with the 70-plus crowd, and they've got all the time in the world, right?
But little Sheldon was used to disappointment by then. His mom and sister dragged him to the choir instead. That's where he ran into Peggy, also strong-armed into it by her mom. Both being hardcore atheists, they thought the Bible trivia contest was dumb as hell.
Still, ever since Peggy crushed him at chess and flipped the board, Sheldon was obsessed with beating her—even at something as lame as Bible facts. They started bickering, and when the pastor tossed out a question that left Missy and the others clueless, Peggy and Sheldon shot their hands up, ready to duke it out.
No surprise who won. The pastor, already dreading Sheldon's smug face from past run-ins, ignored him and picked Peggy. For two geniuses like them, it was child's play. She nailed it, got the praise and prize, and Sheldon fumed. He swore he'd take her down next time, went home, re-read the Bible, and made Missy quiz him to boost his hand-raising speed.
Next week's choir rolled around, and Sheldon was sure he had it in the bag. But Peggy? She didn't even bother competing. Drove him nuts. When he demanded why, she smirked and said she just wanted to see him squirm.
Emmm. Total "tell me your woes so we can all laugh" energy. "My joy comes from your misery" vibes.
Sheldon tried flipping the script, but he sucked at it. Even tossing out his dad's classic domestic-violence-trigger line—"Woman, get me a beer!"—didn't faze her.
Finally, he struck gold: he hit her where it hurt, bringing up her parents' divorce and how it all started with her.
Bingo. Peggy snapped. She unleashed Missy's go-to move for handling Sheldon: violence! One punch to his left eye socket, and he was down for the count—KO'd by an eleven-year-old girl.
Missy's gleeful cackle echoed through the room.
Afterward, Sheldon's mom was heartbroken but couldn't really argue. Peggy was cut from the same cloth as her son, and she felt for her. She chalked it up to "Missy beating up Sheldon" territory—nothing new. Truth is, Missy was Peggy's real mentor. Though Sheldon's mom did pull Missy aside later and ban her from teaching Peggy any more moves.
Good thing, too. Missy's signature was a brutal knee to the groin.
The memories flashed through Adam's mind as they reached the apartment door. Lisa, ever the pro, unlocked it for him.
"Hey, Erica," Adam called out, spotting a vaguely familiar woman inside. On closer look—yep, Peggy's sister.
Man, she'd changed. Back in the day, she couldn't hold a candle to Peggy. Now? The baby fat was gone, and she was stunning. Not surprising, given Peggy's looks. They were sisters, after all. Even a tenth of that DNA was a guaranteed beauty ticket.
Kinda like that dragon lady claiming she's the "ugliest" in her family—humblebrag with a grain of truth.
"Hey, Adam," Erica said, a little dazed. She'd met him before through Peggy, thought he was cute enough but nothing special. Compared to her edgy, bad-boy artist boyfriend, he'd been a yawn.
But now? Totally different vibe. Something about him—mature, doctorly, artsy, handsome. A quadruple whammy of her favorite traits.
Yup. Peggy's mom had worried Peggy's "daddy issues" from their broken home led her to Adam. Wrong kid. Peggy just needed a half-decent friend after Sheldon flopped. Erica, though? She was the one nursing a quiet crush on older, stable types thanks to that divorce mess.
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Erica had planned to beg Adam to let her boyfriend go. But now? No rush. She flicked her hair, hiding a fading bruise from her cheek, and flashed him her brightest smile.