New Jersey.
Peggy's apartment.
"So, it's settled then!"
Adam could sense Erica's growing disgust with the food talk, so he wisely stopped locking eyes with Peggy and turned his attention back to Erica with a grin. "I'll be going with Peggy. Anything we can help with?"
"Do you guys even have the time?" Erica asked, skepticism dripping from her tone. "If you're already juggling whether you can even show up, how are you supposed to help plan anything?"
"Oh, don't count us out just yet," Adam said with a sly smile. "If there's anything you need, just hit up Lisa—she'll sort it out for you. Consider it Peggy and me pitching in, alright?"
"…"
Erica had no comeback for that. Money talks, and Adam's endless resources left her speechless.
"If you want to give your mom and David a romantic wedding, I've got a friend you should totally chat with," Adam continued, still smiling. "They call him the Prince of Romance. Guy's got wild ideas—plus, he's an architectural designer. I introduced him to David before; they hit it off.
Talk to him. Trust me, he'll be a huge help in pulling off that dreamy wedding for your mom and David."
"The Prince of Romance?" Erica snorted. "Please tell me he didn't come up with that himself."
"Nah, not at all," Adam said with a playful smirk. "I gave him that title. He just calls himself an architectural designer chasing his one true love. But take my word for it—he is the Prince of Romance."
"Fine, whatever," Erica replied. She was barely in her twenties, so Adam's hype naturally piqued her curiosity about this so-called romantic prince. "But I'm heading back with Dick tomorrow. There's still a ton to do for the wedding."
"Push it back a few days. I'll book you a first-class ticket," Adam said without missing a beat. "Tomorrow night, I'll have someone bring you to New York. You can meet my buddy Ted Mosby—have a good chat with him.
You can help plan the wedding from New York, no problem. And if you need anything, Lisa's got your back."
A few days would be enough for Erica's boyfriend, Dick, to heal up from the bruises on his face. Peggy might be a "boxer" of sorts, and yeah, Adam's training had made her stronger than most girls her age—but she wasn't some invincible Barbie doll. Her punches weren't that lethal. With some pro-level care, Dick's face would be back to normal soon enough.
By then, there'd be no visible evidence tying him to Peggy. A quick threat, and they could cut him loose. Adam had already tipped off an old cop buddy to keep an eye on him. Give it some time—once Dick stopped connecting the dots back to Adam and Peggy, any shady move he made would get "accidentally spotted" by a "good Samaritan" who'd call the cops.
He'd pay for his slip-ups, all above board. Adam had checked the guy's rap sheet on the way over—plenty of messy run-ins with the law, not his first rodeo. One more step over the line? Totally plausible.
As for Erica? A few days with Ted—seeing what real romance and gentleness look like—she'd ditch the "romantic but abusive" vibe in a heartbeat. It's all about one thing taming another. Ted Mosby, the sexy architectural designer, lady-killer, and Prince of Romance? His rep's well-earned.
"Alright," Erica said, nodding. With Adam laying it out like that, she had no reason to say no. She was pretty cheerful about it, actually.
Next up: chowing down on some good food while shooting the breeze.
Now, if this were little-kid Peggy, she'd be the glue holding the trio together, taking charge of the convo. Back then, she was like Sheldon and Missy rolled into one—Sheldon's genius IQ paired with Missy's killer social skills. When your brain's that sharp, everything's crystal clear. It's not about not knowing—it's about whether you care to act on it.
Emotional intelligence? Same deal. Take Sheldon: Did he really not get stuff? Nah. He just didn't give a damn—wouldn't waste a second thinking about it. High IQ chases self-obsession; high EQ cares about everyone else. Time's finite. Spend it worrying about others' needs, and your own goals take a hit. It's a clash that can't be fixed.
Wisdom's the combo of IQ and EQ—you can tweak the balance if you've got the time. Most regular folks? They're stuck griping that they don't have enough of either, no chance to even pick a ratio. Geniuses usually go 7:3—seven parts IQ, three parts EQ. That's why they come off quirky but still approachable.
Sheldon, though? He went all-in at 9.9999:0.0001, ditching EQ almost entirely. That tiny 0.0001 was just enough for his mom and grandma, who adored him, and a survival instinct to not get pummeled. That's why he seemed so clueless—brutally honest to a fault. Later, his crew softened him up, made him more human. But like Leonard and Howard after getting girlfriends, his achievements tanked. His brain slowed down so much he started questioning his whole existence.
That Nobel Prize in Physics? Without a "happy ending" stroke of luck, he'd have been sunk. Probably would've ended up like countless other theoretical physicists—teen prodigy, bursting with talent, diving into the sea of theory, never making a splash again. His focus got muddy.
Little Peggy's high EQ back in the day? That was her making do. She knew her parents' fights stemmed from her being "different." She cared about them, so she played the part—dolls, sweetness, the whole "normal girl" act—to patch up the family cracks. With her super-genius IQ, a 9:1 split still let her shine with both smarts and charm.
But when she spilled her real feelings to little Sheldon over chess? That was her truth. Like him, she was proud—obsessed with being the best. After her parents' divorce talks and her failed "go normal" phase—snapped out of it by Adam—she flipped the switch. She doubled down on herself, mirroring Sheldon's 9.9999:0.0001 split.
Academics? She soared—crushed Sheldon, became the youngest PhD and mathematician ever. But the trade-off? She stopped hanging with Missy. Looked down on everyone with icy indifference. Erica didn't mean much more to her than Missy did to Sheldon. Heck, if she hadn't spent so much time with Adam, nudging her EQ up a tiny bit, those punches might not have even happened.
"Erica, come on—I'll show you my place," Adam said, shooting Lisa a look. She caught the hint and jumped in to invite Erica over.
"Lisa'll help you out after this. You two can hash things out," Adam added with a grin.
"Uh, sure," Erica said, a little thrown but rolling with it. She got up and followed.
Over there, Lisa kept pushing Erica to stay the night. After a bunch of no's, she finally dropped the subtle truth bomb. So, when Erica came back for her clothes, she gave Adam this weird look—like he was some kind of creep.
Adam just smiled and waved her off. Back in the day, he'd cannonballed through a speech to win Peggy's friendship and boost his wisdom stats, accidentally tanking her EQ by a million. Now? He was putting in a million times the effort to fix it. He didn't expect her to bounce back into the quirky, double-genius bombshell she could've been. But if he could just get a little more of that punch-throwing spark out of her today? He'd call it a win.