“Can I come to the hotel the way I am, or do I have to get all dressed up to get through the door?”

“You can come however you want. She’s a good person, Fi, you’ll like her.”

“The last girl you said that about was in college, and she hated me, and I hated her more.”

“You won’t hate this one, and I happen to love her.”

“Oh God, that’s bad. You’ve never said that about any woman. Now I’ll have to be nice to her.”

“Be yourself. Do you want to come to dinner tonight?”

“No, but I will, because I love you, you jerk. And why didn’t you tell me you got hurt?”

“I didn’t want to make you nervous.”

“What happened?”

“I got shot. But I’m fine now.”

“Okay, I’ll come. What time and where?”

“How about seven? Do you want to bring Ian?”

“No, he’s teaching an art class tonight.” She’d had the same boyfriend for fifteen years but they didn’t live together and didn’t want to get married, and she was happy that way.

He gave her the address of the hotel and their room number, and she said she’d be there. He walked into the living room to tell Theo. She looked up from the computer and smiled. She was so happy to see him up and around and looking like himself again.

“She’s coming, at seven. I told her I got shot. She took it well. I didn’t give her the details.” Theo could sense it was going to be an interesting evening.

Mike opened the door when his sister rang the bell promptly at seven, but he had forgotten to tell Theo that Fiona had pink hair. She had had it for as long as he could remember, and the bright pink pixie cut looked good on her. She was wearing paint-splattered sneakers and a matching shirt, torn blue jeans, and a synthetic leopard coat. She looked about twenty years old, not forty-two.

Theo crossed the room to meet her and was glad she’d worn jeans too. Fiona had a wild teenage style to her, but the whole look worked on her, and she had brightly colored flowers tattooed on the insides of both arms, that actually were cute on her. Theo was wearing a pink Chanel sweater and black and pink Chanel ballerinas with her jeans. They were both good-looking women but in entirely different ways. Fiona was hesitant as she greeted Theo, but Theo was warm and welcoming, and Mike looked like a proud papa bear with two cubs.

He offered his sister a drink and she asked for white wine.

“What kind of art do you do?” Theo asked her as they sat down.

“Street art, like graffiti,” she said, and Theo smiled.

“I love street art,” she confirmed.