Truth be told, the celebrity was just a side-effect of being a Quidditch player. He was sure that if he'd ended up working in the ministry, his grandfather's fame wouldn't have been enough to give him a significant advantage - and unlike some other peoples' families who seemed to desire successful businessmen, his seemed to be set on producing star sports players. Not a bad thing, he supposed.
It was refreshing not to have a demanding, annoying bint at his side. For some reason the Quidditch pitch seemed to attract that sort, and Geoff had long ago grown tired of it. He laughed.
"I think that would be a great idea. I like olives on mine, though, so maybe we should get them to put different toppings on one half." No need to be inconsiderate, after all. "Olives and pineapples are where it's at, really." He looked toward the door again. "It might be better if we go separately. I can go to the back hallway to the washrooms and then cut back around." Geoff was sure that all of this planning wasn't necessary, but it was sort of ... fun.
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