“Allô,” Hello, I say into the phone, knowing it’s Karrie.

“What’s the matter with you?” she asks me in a quiet voice, and then I hear a door close.

“Where are you?” I ask her.

“I was in bed, but Matthew is crashed out, so I left the bedroom. Why?” she asks, and I take a deep breath in and then exhale.

“I need to tell you something, but I need you to swear to secrecy,” I tell her. “Almost like I did when you told me about that time you had sex in the arena.”

She hisses, “You were not supposed to ever bring that up.”

“Do you promise?”

“Do I have a choice?” she asks, and her voice is getting a touch louder so I know she’s probably downstairs in the kitchen.

“I just had dinner with Mark,” I say the words out loud, and then I wait.

“Which Mark?” she asks.

“Dimitris,” I say softly and hear a whistle. “PM, which, by the way, does not stand for private masturbation,” I say, and I hear her spitting something out and then coughing. “What is wrong with everyone?”

“Oh my God,” she says between heaving and coughing. “I just sprayed water all over my kitchen. I can’t,” she says. The cab comes to a stop, and I swipe my card in the machine and then get out. The doorman nods at me and opens the door for me. “I know that it stands for Private Mark.”

“Really,” I say, smiling at the security guard. “How do you know that?”

“My husband is a retired hockey player. You don’t think I watch seven hours of SportsCenter when he’s home. I pick up some things,” she says. “Wait a second, didn’t you guys have a thing two years ago?”

“Negative,” I say into the phone, getting into the elevator. “I mean, he told me to call him, but I never did.”

“And you called him today?” she asks me, confused. I get out of the elevator and walk into my house. Not turning on any lights, I make my way to my bedroom.

“No, I ran into him literally while I was walking down Lexington,” I tell her. “And he took me to dinner.”

“So why do I have to keep it a secret?” she asks me.

“He kissed me,” I tell her.

“Okay,” she says. “You’ve kissed other men.”

“Yes, but this one was different. My stomach did a thing.” I put my hand to my stomach, and just thinking about the kiss makes the same thing happen again. “Little flutters.”

“Oh my God,” she says.

“I think I caught something from the kids. I’m going to check my temperature right now,” I say as I go into the bathroom and get the thermometer. “Maybe I caught the bug.”

“Yeah, the love bug,” she says, laughing, and I roll my eyes.