“I say your name every day, Vivienne”—he quick-shook his head, taking one step toward me—“I mean every other day. I’m sure you can say my name one time in the library.” He nudged my shoe again. Twice. He had touched my shoe twice. “I’m defending my dissertation next month and visiting my family in Ljubljana for the summer, and who knows where I’ll go after that. You don’t have much time to call me by my name.”
