“And, Damon?” she called. I stopped. “When and if she comes around, take her somewhere, just the two of you.” What? “It’s called a date,” she explained, “and it’s where you do something she likes that makes her happy. You and she will keep your clothes on for this.” Oh, you’re funny. I shook my head, leaving her apartment and stepping into the elevator. I pushed the button for the lobby. “A fucking date,” I mumbled.
