Saturday night and there was no date, not even a bad date. I padded back to my computer and went back to my Web surfing, looking for new stories of murder and revenge to inspire me. I smiled to myself: When artists talked about being “inspired” by someone else’s work, it pretty much meant they were ripping it off.

Everything is inspiration.

ELEVEN

ELEVEN

I’d put off telling Ina and Lauren about the breakup, just because I didn’t want to deal with their I-told-you-so’s and are-you-OKs?!? I finally broke the news to them a month after Dave returned my shopping bag of stuff. Both girls ended up being cooler than I expected, and frankly sounded more relieved than anything. I confided in them about the drive-by, and trying to check his voice mail and e-mail, and they didn’t seem to judge me too harshly. We’d all done it. A few days later, Ina called with her first attempted fix up. “This guy is great. I can’t believe you don’t already know Garrett— he’s amazing. Do you know who his dad is? His dad is that director guy who does all those action movies. They have their own jet and—” “No sons-of-the-successful. You know my rule. Remember Jack?

That guy I dated in college?” “He’s not like Jack,” Ina said. “This guy has a job, for one thing.” “What kind of job?” “He produces with his dad, but not in a handout kind of way. He’s

the real thing. He’s great looking and funny.” I was still suspicious. “How do you know him?”

“We just know him from being around in the scene—something you need to get out into, missy.”

“We meaning you and Larry?”

“Yes, he knows Larry, but will you stop it already with your bitchy-pants, Dani? It’s obvious from your crankiness that you need to get laid.”

“Thanks for that, Ina. If I want this kind of affirmation, I’ll call my mom.”

I thought Garrett sounded pretty good, at least to meet for a beer or something. But then Ina hit me with the real story.

“There’s just one thing . . .” she started.

“One thing?” I echoed back. “Is there something wrong with this guy that you should be telling me about?”

“Well, um . . . I wasn’t going to say anything. I was just going to let you guys go out, but now that you’re kind of into the idea, I feel a little guilty.”

“What? How bad could it be?” I asked.

“Well, he kind of killed a guy?”

“He kind of killed a guy?” This was a first. I had to hold the phone a bit away from my face to actually give Ina my “Oh no, she didn’t just say that” face through the receiver.