“I think we’re out of the whipped cream I like. Should I text Anna and tell her to get some? Or maybe Jimela could run out and get it for me?”

“I think Jimela has been working hard enough. Perhaps you should go out and get your own whipped cream?”

“See?” Eleanor cried. “This is exactly what I mean. You’re so good, Alexander. Of course, I should go myself.” She came over and adjusted the cashmere throw covering him and leaned over, giving him a kiss on the cheek. He hated it when she did that. She did it even in public, little pecks hello and good-bye. She did it in front of his friends, too, and in turn they mocked him and called him Jaime Lannister. As Eleanor walked away, the smell of her vanilla perfume made him gag slightly, or was the Las Vegas cocktail making his stomach feel like a hollow pit?

VI

Vronsky parked Murf’s truck with the farm’s logo by the side of the house instead of in the circular drive. It was still visible, but looked like a workman’s vehicle, so any neighbors who noticed it wouldn’t find it odd. Not that neighbors could even see down the long, gated driveway to the house. Vronsky didn’t get out of the truck right away, but instead gave himself a moment. Murf hadn’t been thrilled to offer up his new but used truck to someone with no driver’s license, but Vronsky kept throwing out numbers of how much he’d pay him until Murf relented, though not before calling him a privileged white rich kid who was out of touch with the real world, and agreeing to rent him his truck for a Benjamin.

Vronsky thought about the emergency spliff that Murf had hidden away in a Dr. Dre The Chronic CD jewel case stored in the truck’s glove box and wondered if he should take a hit to calm his nerves. He had kept waiting to receive a message from Anna that she had changed her mind and he shouldn’t come, but no such text arrived. He opened the Words with Friends app, staring at his letters. He could play the word HERO, with the H on a double letter score square.

Some hero I am, he thought to himself. Too chicken shit to get out of the truck.

In his entire sexual history, and his list was long and impressive for someone his age, he had never felt this nervous. Sure he’d been over-the-top excited before, but a teenage boy going through puberty could get excited over just about anything.