“Hey, stop that,” he said, his voice too loud, like it sometimes got when he drank a lot. “Come here, okay?”

She came over and stood in front of him. She realized she was still in the robe she’d worn all day, and her hair was probably flat and greasy. No wonder he was kicking her out. “You want me to leave?” she said, and jutted out her lower lip.

“Alice, no. That is definitely not what I want. Sit down here.”

He patted his lap, and she slid on top of him as he carefully placed his drink on the glass-topped side table. “What I want,” he said, “is for you and me to have a conversation about how we need to be extra-careful from now on.”

“I didn’t say anything to Gina and her mother. They were trying to get me to say something about you, but I swear I didn’t.”

“I know you didn’t. I’m not talking about just you, I’m talking about us. We have to be careful about what restaurants we go to, and how we act, and eventually—not right away—you should get your own place. No, no, don’t worry. You should get your own place even though you can keep staying here most nights.”

“Maybe we should just let people know about us. It’s not illegal.”

“I know it’s not illegal but it’s frowned on. And I wouldn’t care except that I have a position at a bank that’s important. I advise people in this town on what to do with their money, and they’re going to lose faith in me if they think that you and I are together. They won’t understand.”

“What if we got married?”

“Alice,” he said, then took a long sip of his drink, placing the glass back down with a loud clink. “It wouldn’t make any difference. In fact, it would probably make things worse. It’s not just that you’re the daughter of my wife, it’s that I’m thirty years older than you.”

“I don’t care.”

“I don’t care, either, but other people will.”

“Fine. We’ll be extra-careful.”

“That’s all that I’m saying. We have to be very, very careful from here on out. People hate to see other people happy. Remember that.”