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“Chartering a flight.”
“Why, when we can drive?”
“It’s faster and more efficient.”
“Faster isn’t always better, Elliot,” she scoffs. It’s weird to hear her say my name—so few people ever really use it. “There’s something to be said for taking the scenic route.”
“Have you ever been in an airplane?” I ask. “It’s pretty scenic.”
“Not at nighttime, it isn’t.”
“Fine,” I relent. “We’ll drive. But next time, I’m picking the restaurant.”
We drive forever. And ever. It’s pitch black out, so she was wrong about it being scenic. She rolls her eyes when I mention this, just the same as Emily would and for a second I feel like she could almost be a surrogate.
“Tell me about your childhood,” I say, not because I actually care, but this seems like the kind of thing women want to talk about, and we did not make an efficient choice in our travel mechanism, which leaves plenty of time for conversation.
“There’s not much to tell.”
“Where’d you grow up?”
“Nowhere you’d know.” She glances over at me. “And you?”
“Somewhere between Austin and boarding school on the east coast.”
She doesn’t say anything, which forces my hand.
“Your husband,” I say. “What’s he like?”
“He’s all right.”
“The kind of all right who’d do that to your face?”
Maybe she shrugs, I can’t tell. But at least she doesn’t lie.
“So remind me again, how does one get into this profession?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got nothing but time. We have at minimum another two hours on this very scenic route you’ve chosen. I figure that’s at least enough to do some damage.”
“I like sex,” she says. “I like money. The end.”
“I like sex and money. I don’t sell myself.”
“No?” She cocks a brow. “You should try it.”
“Believe me, I have.”
She pulls out her phone. It’s an evasion tactic, and it’s annoying as hell.
“So your husband doesn’t hit you, and he willingly lets you have sex with strangers for money and doesn’t seem to care if those strangers take you on weekend getaways. I’ve heard a lot of things, I have to confess. But that’s pretty out there.”
“My husband is older.” She shrugs. “He isn’t much into sex.”
“Ah,” I say. It’s the first thing she’s said that makes any sense.
“So, he’s trying to keep you around by allowing you a little leeway.”
