“Give me an actor, something to work with here. Because right now, I’m picturing that tattooed guy that keeps popping up on Instagram. The one with the beard and the tattoos.”

“I told you, no beard. Actor? I don’t know. Gerard Butler?”

She laughs again. “What you’re basically saying is that the frog is actually a hot prince?”

“No! And he’s married, for God’s sake. I don’t think of him in those terms.”

“What terms? Gerard Butler, hello. Are you from another planet?”

As much as Alisa amuses me, it bothers me that I thought he was handsome before I knew who he was. Very handsome. I’m doing my best not to think about it.

“Let’s not talk about it anymore. He’s Max’s married friend, and he’s a thief. We don’t like him, remember?”

“Sure, we don’t like him. So when are you asking Mr. Butler about Max?”

“Stop calling him that. And I don’t know. Soon. I just met him last night. Plus, I’m living in his house and working for his sister. When she finds out I did all this just to talk to him, I’ll be without a place to live or source of income.”

“Maybe. Unless you come clean. It’s not like you wanted to hurt her or lie to her.”

“But why did I go through all this charade only to tell her the truth after three days?”

Silence. “You’re asking me? That was your crazy idea.”

That’s true. It was. I could’ve just come to the café every day. And maybe today I would’ve met him and there would’ve been no need for all the lies. Patience. When will I learn?

“I could talk to him and ask him not to tell her,” I say.

“You’re digging yourself a hole you won’t be able to climb out of.”

“Then I don’t tell him the truth either and just get Max’s details some other way.”

“What other way? Using a psychic?” asks Alisa.

“No, funny girl, still from him, but not just straight-out asking for Max’s real name.”

“Complicating things again.”

“I don’t want to. I’m just afraid he’ll say no, and then what do I do?”

“But he could say yes.”

“Would you say yes? And remember that girl’s email? He doesn’t divulge his sources.”

Alisa sighs. “You’re in a pickle.”

“I’m at the bottom of a massive jar of pickles,” I say.

“Why don’t you wait to read the book then, maybe you’ll get some clues, and in the meantime, I guess, get to know Ethan? Maybe Max is still in his group of friends and one thing will lead to another, and you’ll meet him.”

“That’d be nice. Too wrapped up with a pretty bow, but nice. Any news on the book?”

“I should be getting it today or tomorrow. I’ll ship it overnight to you. Don’t do anything rash. Don’t do anything you’ll regret, promise?”

“Promise.”

Forty

I take a shower, get dressed and when I go into the living room, Celine is already putting on her pumps. Ethan is nowhere to be seen.