“When he took me to the aquarium,” I tell her, sitting down in my office chair and turning my computer on. “We had dinner under the sea.”

“I don’t even know what that means. Is that code for he fucked you in a pool?” Karrie asks.

“No, he rented the aquarium, and we had dinner in the glass tunnel under the sea,” I say, leaning back in my chair.

“Oh my God,” she whispers.

“Anyway, after that, we went back to his place, and I rode the horse,” I tell her, and I’m suddenly uneasy about sharing this information. “Then he sent me a fish.”

“I can’t,” she says, and I hear her slapping the table or counter. The phone rings, and I see she is sending me a FaceTime request. Her face comes through, and I see that her hair is wet and piled on her head, and she is sitting on her bed. “You were here for four days. For four days, you didn’t tell me any of this.”

“There isn’t anything to tell.” I look at her, grabbing my coffee. “He sent me a fish.” I roll my eyes. “A fucking pet. I got so aggravated I didn’t even get dressed. I put on a raincoat and took him the fucking thing.”

“Oh my God.” Her hand goes to her mouth, and she tries not to show me that she’s hiding her laughter.

“Don’t fucking laugh, Karrie. He sent me a fish that was alive,” I say angrily. “Do you know the commitment that would take from me?”

“It’s a fish.” She rolls her eyes. “They are literally the easiest pets to have.”

“Really? How many fish do you have?” I ask her, and she just opens her mouth and then shuts it. “Exactly.” I point at her. “Anyway, I went to his house and returned his fish.”

“So then what?” she asks, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Then nothing. When I was at your house, he called to tell me that the fish was okay. And he asked me over for lunch …” I trail off the last words.

“Lunch.” She shakes her head.

“Well, I went over at eight, and well …” I trail off. “I got home this morning.”

She sits up and grabs the phone, bringing it closer to her. “Are you telling me you went back for more, and you spent the night?”

I roll my eyes. “It’s really not a big deal. I dozed off watching Mad Men, and well, I got to wake up to sex, so I win.”

“I’m coming into the city on Friday,” she tells me. “Want to do lunch?”