“I have a master’s in chemistry and biology, too, but that is neither here nor there. I say that only because I want to present an accurate academic résumé.” He twitched again. “But I have deliberately left room in my mind for the possibility of things unexplained. You are in my brain as a thing unexplained.”

“I am not a thing.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” His forehead puckered above his thick glasses and he appeared worried. “I apologize. I misspoke. We have had a misunderstanding. May I continue, or has my offense brought on an insurmountable barrier and therefore it is impossible for us to continue our conversation?”

“We can still talk, Olec, don’t worry.” Sure we could. I liked Olec.

His shoulders sagged in relief. “Thank you for your graciousness. Here is my quandary: I have met a woman in Seattle.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” I smiled at him. “I hope she is brilliant enough for you.”

“She is . . . I believe the correct word is lovely. Extremely friendly. She is talkative and complimentary of me. She is affectionate, although we have not had intercourse. Excuse me, perhaps that was too forward? Too much information, as the modern saying goes.”

“It’s okay, Olec. I’ve heard more personal stuff than that.”

“Thank you for understanding.” He twisted his hands together. “There is a concern: She does need money now and then.”

“For what?” Ah, no. Bad news.

“Sick father in Texas. Sick grandma in Mexico. Another sick grandma in Louisiana. They couldn’t afford health insurance and they fell on hard times, so she, being a generous and kind soul, stepped up for them.”

“You mean, you stepped up for them by giving her money.”

He squirmed. “We love each other.”

“You love her? How long have you known her?”

“Three months. One week. Four days.” Checked his watch. “Six hours. Twenty minutes. We met online. We talked on Facebook.”

“And then you met her face-to-face in Seattle?”

“Yes. We have been together, face-to-face, two times. Once commencing at one o’clock on a Saturday, at a Russian restaurant with forty-two types of vodka. But there was a Thursday meeting also, in a coffee shop that sold twelve types of pastries. She says we are soul mates. I am still exploring that possibility.”

Yeah. Sounds like they’re “money mates,” with the money going in one direction. “How much money have you given her?”

“So far? Precisely to this date? Twelve thousand one hundred sixty-four dollars.”

I tried to keep my face expressionless. I wanted to slap him upside the head and knock some sense into him, but I also wanted to bang her face into a bookshelf for taking advantage of a brilliant but vulnerable man.

“What I need to know, Evie, is if we have a future together.”