Hal could do nothing but glare. He had lost, and that was difficult enough to digest, but to lose to a woman? There were things in Hal's life that he knew he would never be the best at. Dinah could destroy him in physical combat, Carol could own him in business, but no one, no one could best him at flying a play.
Save for Zinda Blake. Hal felt the unusual swell of his heart in his chest as he accepted defeat. He trusted George to give the right numbers and knew that a woman like Zinda would never prematurely gloat. Hal Jordan had lost and he had never felt better about a loss.
"You want a pic? Here." Hal pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it to George. "Snap the lady a good one." He had even come around to put his arm over Zinda's shoulder, though a little hesitant. The camera flashed and Hal reclaimed the digital image. "It'll do," he said, not wanting to give the woman too much credit.