Page 124 of The Difference Between

I lighten my pressure on his nose and give him an apologetic smile. “Like a gaming designer?” I ask Holden. “Or . . . ?”

Holden opens a mini fridge under his desk and pulls out a canned energy drink with a lime-green toxic symbol. He cracks it open and takes a long drink. “Streamer.”

“Really?” Gavin asks, his face now completely blood free. He shifts his jaw around. “That’s an interesting profession.” He eyes the equipment like he’s truly interested. “That full time?”

Holden sips his drink, says, “Hope not,” then chuckles.

My soul deflates.

“And where do you live?” I ask Donna.

“Born and raised right here,” she says.

“So your son lives here?” Gavin asks in a tone I hate. “With you?”

“Sure does,” Donna beams. “Saving money while he gets his video game business going.”

“Streaming channel,” Holden corrects.

He’s nowhere near as attractive as his photo made him look—thank God I didn’t listen to my sisters. He’s covered in sweat-pant, living with his mother, and drinking energy drinks that probably make his sperm radioactive. I wouldn’t fuck this man if there was a gun to my head.

“That’s so wonderful,” I say in the cheeriest voice I’ve ever used. “We should go, honey.”

I start to stand, but Gavin pulls me back to the couch. “I work for the city if you ever want something part time,” he tells Holden.

Holden shakes his head. “No can do.” He taps one of the computer monitors. “Gotta do this as much as I can to keep the algorithm happy.” He takes another sip. “I mostly just do one-offs when I need the money for new gear.”

“He loves his gear,” Donna chimes in with a chuckle. The dog in her lap bares its teeth at me.

Gavin looks right at me as he asks, “Any of those one-offs tied to Chicago, Holden?”

I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t like it. The hard set of Gavin’s jaw, the line between his eyes, the way he’s engaging.

Holden says, “Only went there once for a Gamer Con.”

“So no big businesses tied to the city?” Gavin presses. “Apex Properties or the Rutledge Group?”

My heart lurches. Gavin isn’t engaging, he’s trying to figure out why we’re here.

I clap my hands and smile wide. “Well, I’m sure we’ve been enough of an inconvenience, honey.”

“No, it’s fine,” Holden says between sips. “I’ve logged off for the night. I love talking shop.” To Gavin: “I focus on smaller jobs, if you catch my drift.”

“Really?” Gavin slinks one hand around my thigh and rubs the line of his nose with the other. “What kind of those you find around here?” Oh no. “Because my wife here loves money”—he looks at me—“and I never seem to have enough for her.”

Our eyes hold with that. He’s being honest—he thinks that. He thinks that I care at all about how much money he makes.

“I never said that,” I tell him. “I don’t care how much money you make. What I care about is that you—” I remember Holden and Donna. “Buy me a boat.” I smile brightly. “I love boats.”

“Donate plasma,” Holden says. “That’s what I do.” He dips his chin and points a finger at Gavin. “And sperm.”

I flinch at the admission and Gavin notices. His eyes widen and his mouth opens—he knows.

I physically feel the blood draining from my face, maybe my body.

Donna says, “I might have grandkids somewhere out there right now.” Her chipper tone relays that this would be the best thing ever and that she has no idea the room is spinning.

“We really need to go,” I say.