Stupid idea. I began to plan my next career move instead. Insurance? Teaching? Maybe write a book? None of it inspired me to get off my duff.

Then the bell rang.

I glanced at my watch, 9:47, and went to look through the hole to see who was calling so late. I opened up.

“Harlan?”

“Happy Fourth of July to you, Dan.”

“How did you know where to find me?”

“Birgit said you were living over here.”

“She did?” I asked. “Why would she do that?”

“Funny. How’s about you invite me in and offer me a beverage? I treated you, after all.”

I stood aside and let him in. “What’s up, Russ?” I asked once I’d poured him a glass of the Chivas Willy—scratch that—Sushmita had sent me.

“You’re not drinking?” he asked.

“Not tonight.”

We sat opposite each other in front of the dormant television.

“Don’t tell me there’s no white meat on the menu over at the President,” I said.

“Now, Dan, don’t hold that against me. My generation is different from yours. We were brought up that way. I don’t have anything against other races. But I’m new to this kind of thing.”

“I don’t feel comfortable with that kind of talk. And I don’t want to hear it.”

“Understood. We won’t let a little thing like this ruin our friendship.”

It wasn’t a little thing to me. He tipped his glass in my direction to toast.

“This is good. Chivas? Where did you find this here?”

“It was a gift.”

“From that girl? Sushmata?”

“Sushmita.”

He savored another taste of scotch and glanced around the room. I wondered what he was thinking. I’d been mildly surprised—not to say disappointed—that a flat in a recent development was so ordinary by our spoiled American standards. I was growing used to my surroundings, however, and no longer minded—too much—the cold bucket baths and lack of air-conditioning. But if I’d reacted to the place that way, what must Russ Harlan have been thinking?

“How much are you paying for this apartment, anyway?” he asked.

“I don’t know. The company takes care of it.” That was a lie. Yes, the office was paying my rent, but I knew very well how much it cost.

“I suppose it’s comfortable,” he said. “What I don’t get is how these places are so pricey. And how does that girl of yours afford a Mercedes? I’m sure they don’t sell them for less over here than they do back home.”