“Er . . . yes, I do,” Jude says. “But I have to be honest . . . I’m not sure it’s in my budget to get another add-on. The photo package . . .”

“Totally, totally,” I respond right away. “And it normally is an add-on, but we’re actually testing out new equipment . . .” New equipment that Aisha and I have to go to Best Buy to figure out . . . “So we’re offering a steep discount right now. Only fifteen dollars for a onetime date.”

“Oh,” Jude says. “That’s not so bad . . .”

“Yup,” I say confidently. “It’s a very good deal.”

“All right. I’ll think about it . . .” Jude says.

“Great!” I say. “Do you think you could have an answer by say . . . eight p.m.?”

Because Best Buy closes at nine. And Aisha is not free tomorrow. Out of the two of us, she’s the tech whiz, and I’d be more comfortable if I had her with me.

“Tonight?” Jude asks.

“If you wouldn’t mind. I just have to make sure everything is in order and our coach is available.” I’ll let him know later that our regular coach will magically not be available and he is going to end up with me.

“Um . . . all right, sure. Why the hell not? Let’s just do it.”

I grin at him. “Great. You won’t regret it.”

* * *

I do get a weird kick out of going to Best Buy with Aisha. Because, inevitably, some employee takes one look at my tiny, female cousin and assumes she needs help when it comes to electronics. And then she gets to run circles around their technical knowledge. One time, when she was helping me pick out a router for the new Brooklyn apartment, some smug dude in his thirties actually asked her if she knew what a modem was. Her silence was only her trying to figure out if she should answer or just fall back on her kickboxing.

“We basically want the most unobtrusive Bluetooth headset we can find,” she says as she scans the aisle we’re in, while I keep an eye out to see if any employees will dare to approach us. I could use the entertainment. “Simplest way is to just have him sync it to his phone, then you call him, feed him lines or what have you and, bada boom.”

“Sounds good,” I respond.

“I actually found this spy set online.” She looks up at me, her voice going up in pitch along with her obvious enthusiasm. “The ear receiver is invisible, goes deep in your ear and needs a magnet to remove. Then you put this necklace around your neck as a receiver, and there’s even a Morse code tap thing in your shoes so you can tap out an SOS to whoever’s listening.”

“Wow,” I say. “Who would need that?”

“Um . . . actual spies?” she responds.

“Right,” I say. “Or, like, a really hopeless TITMH client.”