We sounded better than I thought we would. After the concert we drove over to Ruth’s Chris Steak House. I had the petite filet while Nicholas ordered the Cowboy Ribeye. He also ordered a tomato and onion salad to share, a seared ahi tuna appetizer (something I’d never had before), and a sweet potato casserole, which I could have eaten for dessert.

“How do you eat like this and stay thin?” I asked.

“Simple,” he replied. “I don’t always eat like this.”

“I think I’ve gained a few pounds since I signed the contract. You’re spoiling me,” I said. “I’m not sure all this spoiling is a good thing.”

“Why would spoiling you not be a good thing?”

“Because in five weeks our contract is going to expire, and then where am I?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “Where are you?”

I shrugged. “Certainly not eating here.”

He looked at me for a moment, then said, “Do you know what I like most about you?”

“I have no idea,” I said.

“How grateful you are. In a world growing increasingly entitled, you are truly grateful. It makes me want to do more for you.”

“You already do too much,” I said.

“My point exactly,” he replied. “You’re a beautiful soul.”

“Fortunately for me, you don’t really know me.”

“No, you told me everything there was to know about you last week.”

“Not everything.”

He was quiet for a moment, then said, “I probably know you better than you think.”

The statement struck me as peculiar. “What do you mean by that?”

He paused for another moment before he said, “I’m just a very good judge of character.”

“That may be,” I said. “But the thing is, you don’t know what you don’t know. No one’s perfect. Some of us aren’t even that good.”

Looking at me seriously, he said, “What I do know is that everyone makes mistakes. That’s why forgiveness is so important. Unfortunately, so many of us are bad at it.” He let his words settle before continuing. “When I worked for the prosecutor’s office, one of my first cases was a man who had shot to death a clerk at a convenience store. We had video of the crime, and I thought it was an open-and-shut case. But because of a technicality we lost. As we were leaving the courthouse, the man slapped me on the back and said, ‘Thank you, Counselor.’ I said, ‘For what?’ And he said ‘For screwing up the case. Of course I killed him. But there’s nothing you can do now.’ ”

“He confessed?” I asked.

“Right there on the courthouse steps.”

“Why didn’t you just go back in and tell the judge?”