Regina put a two-inch long flamingo lacquered nail on his lips. Shaw thought he smelled pâté.

“Do you believe in psychics, sweetie?”

He had to speak around her nail, but he was so excited that the words just burst out. “Holy crap. Do you see these pearl onions? I was just—”

Shushing him, Regina delicately plucked the jar from his hands and set it on the shelf behind his head. “Would you believe me if I told you I was a little bit psychic? See, sweetie, I have this gift. I can sniff a virgin. Smell him from a mile away. And you, you reek like an untapped ass. That’s why I like to tease you about North. No, honey. Shush. Regina Rex is speaking now; you just listen. A grown man like you and still a virgin. Now that is a very, very rare find. And sweetie, I’m going to make you an offer. Are you listening?”

Shaw breathed through his lips, avoiding the smell of pâté on that flamingo pink nail. It had gotten so damn Animal Planet that he wouldn’t have been surprised if she dragged him off with her jaws around his neck. And underneath that initial panic was the hot, prickling flush of shame that somehow she knew, somehow she had figured it out.

“Ain’t nobody who can take that cherry from you the way Regina Rex can. Think about that, sweetie. You can keep your hand busy for the next ten years, waiting for your buddy to notice you. Or you can stop by Regina Rex’s apartment. No strings. No lovey-dovey stuff. You don’t even have to stay the night. You certainly don’t have to call the day after.” Then Regina flashed one of her show-stopper smiles a mile wide. “You’re just so scrumptious, and I hate the thought of nobody, absolutely nobody, getting that gorgeous boy puss.” She traced his lips with the tip of her nail. “Now what do you say about that?”

“I’m not—”

“Honey, trust me. I won’t tell a soul. And you’d be in very good hands. Like I told you, I’m kind of psychic. This is very much my area of expertise.”

Shaw opened his mouth. He had absolutely no idea what would come out except, maybe, some sort of fumbling denial that she was wrong. North would laugh. He’d have some kind of mocking subversion that twisted the whole thing around. North would—

“What am I interrupting?” North said in that voice like mahogany set to smolder.

“Since you don’t seem willing to take care of matters,” Regina said, “I was just offering your boy here—”

Shaw dropped the tonic water. It exploded. Carbonation propelled the water into a geyser, and Regina backstepped, slapping at her clothes, swearing at Shaw, North, the water, and the universe. Shaw tried to retreat, but he was backed into the pantry. His head cracked against the shelf, and the jar of pearl onions that Regina had replaced rolled over his shoulder, tipped, and shattered on the floor. Regina swore some more and backed up again. Her two-inch nails were spread with helpless horror.