“Yeah, that’s basically what he said but with more colorful language.”

“Oh, Thorne.”

How could he explain without sounding even stupider than he already did? “I thought…”

“I’m sure you did. You might not be very wise when it comes to relationships, but you aren’t cruel.”

“Just because you have a perfect marriage to the perfect man doesn’t mean the rest of us have your powers.”

Kathryn snorted. “My marriage is far from perfect.”

“The fuck it isn’t.”

She poured herself another drink. He’d always had this effect on her. “Thorne, no marriage is perfect. And even if mine was, that doesn’t mean you and Dash don’t deserve a chance to be happy.”

“He’s young. Did I mention that? Very young. And he does deserve happiness, but he’ll have a better chance of finding it without me.”

Kathryn ignored his self-deprecation. “How young is he?”

“Twenty-two. That’s partly why I didn’t think he’d want to date me.”

“Whew! That is young.”

Thorne wasn’t sure he liked how readily she agreed with him. “Not a lot of old guys working for escort services. And it’s not what you’re thinking. We’d joked about him being my personal chef. I was going to hire him to cook for me.”

“Did he understand what you were hiring him for?”

“I thought so, but now I’m not sure.”

Kathryn sighed. “Have you tried to contact him?”

Thorne laughed, the sound brittle. “I called him—I don’t know—ten or twenty times over the weekend, like a fucking stalker. Then yesterday morning, he called me and told me he wanted to hate me, but he couldn’t. I started to hope… But then he asked me to stop calling.”

“Did you?” Kathryn asked.

“I did, but I deposited a ‘tip’ into his account with the service.”

“How much?” Kathryn frowned like she knew he’d done something else idiotic. It was the same look she’d given him every time he fucked up as a kid.

“Sixty-five thousand dollars.”

“Oh my God.” Kathryn downed the rest of her drink.

“It’s enough for his baking and pastry arts degree. That’s why he’s working as an escort, to earn money for school. He refused it, though. The woman who runs the service called me and explained that the tip was being refunded.”

“Thorne…” Kathryn shook her head.

“I screwed up again, right?”

“Did you really think he was going to take your money after you insulted him?”

Thorne poured himself another drink, though he wanted to give up and just take a swig from the decanter. “I didn’t mean to insult him. All I wanted was to take care of him.”

She nodded. “Possibly he understands that, but his pride took a hit, and—” She gestured toward the half-empty bourbon bottle. “So did yours.”

“My pride could handle it.”