The Suits all sat in dejected silence . . . except for Joe. He was striding around the room, all fired up, talking into one of his prototypes. 

“I’m good, Jerry! Listen, we need three pies. Give me the Joe-Joe Special, one meat lover’s, and a sausage ’n onion.” He covered the phone’s receiver with his hand and said, “Do you guys want drinks?” 

Chief pointed at Joe, a broad grin spreading across his face. “That’s the one, Boss.” 

The Boss walked over to Joe, who was still chatting. “No, no, Jerry, that’s all for now, thanks. Twenty minutes? Perfect, we’ll meet you downstairs in the lobby.” Joe spun around, faced his teammates, and opened his arms wide. “Well, we might have failed the most important test of our lives, but I ordered us some garlic knots!” 

The Boss pulled the phone out of Joe’s hand and flipped it over and studied the back. “This is the one,” he said, holding it up in the air triumphantly. 

All the Suits except for Chief cheered. He was slumped in his seat, in a stupor of relief. Stan looked at Harvey and said, “Does this mean—”

He had lost the bet. Joe had got one answer right. 

Page 69