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“I don’t have money to go shopping.”
“I know, that’s why Hugh also has one of my credit cards. Buy whatever you want. Perhaps a warmer coat,” he suggests. “You seemed cold last night.”
“I can buy WHATEVER I want?”
“Yep. Get yourself some dinner, too. He’s taking you to Newbury Street. If you don’t know where to eat, Hugh will have some recommendations for you.”
“And I’ll be dining alone, correct?”
“Correct.”
An idea strikes me. It’s probably not a good one, but God knows he has enacted his bad ideas on me for the sake ofhisown pleasure. It’s my turn. “What if I want to bring a friend?”
“One of your roommates?”
“No.”
I deliberately don’t give him more than that.
“Harley Quinn?”
“No. No one you’ve encountered. A male friend.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t recommend that.”
I think he’s a bit of a madman, and I would neveractuallyendanger a male friend just to taunt Silvan, but he doesn’t know that. “Why not?” I ask innocently.
“Because unless his exclusive sexual preference is other men, he’d have a very unpleasant encounter with me following the shopping trip, and that would probably be awkward for youto explain. Unless, of course, you’re exceptionally comfortable speaking to corpses. Even so, the idea of you apologizing to another man… rubs me the wrong way. Let’s avoid it.”
“That’s an insane thing to text someone.”
“All in good fun,” he replies, but I don’t entirely believe him.
“You can’t be possessive of my apologies.”
“Oh, but I can. All your apologies belong to me. I think you owe me one right now for pretending you’d invite another man into my car to take you on as shopping spree I’m paying for.”
“I think you’re crazy if you think I owe YOU an apology for anything after the things you’ve done to me.”
“I’ll take it anyway. You repentant and on your knees. I’m getting hard just thinking about it.”
“Okay,” I say, ready to cut off this interaction before it goes even more off the rails. “I’m done with this conversation.”
“Just take the car. Have a nice evening. I won’t be there. Like I said, I’m in New York. I’ll be in New York while you’re out and about. By the time I’m back in Boston, you’ll be in bed.”
“You SWEAR you’re in New York?”
A moment later, he sends a picture of himself holding up a Post-it Note he wrote the date on and a view of the Manhattan skyline out the window behind him.
“Cross my heart. Let me do a nice thing for you.”
An idea hits me as I look at the limo. “I was joking about the guy, but would I be able to bring someone?”
“Who?”
“My mom. When I was a kid, I won this limo ride from my school fundraiser, and I was going to take her for Mother’s Day, but I got sick the day of the limo ride, and we couldn’t go. I know it’s silly, but… I don’t know, it’d be kind of like a rain check.”
“It’s not silly at all,” he texts back. “Yes, of course you can bring your mom. Buy her something, too.”
