“First job is in a church. All you have to do is go in and walk to the front and sit in the first pew. That is the entirety of your job. We will leave together,” he says, hailing a cab. He pushes me into it, but doesn’t get in with me, giving the cabbie the address before shutting me in without so much as a good luck. Oh well, when you decide to fall in love with a stoic man, you can’t expect him to be anything other than stoic. As the cab pulls back into traffic, I give him an affectionate smile through the window—I’m not a stoic man, so I don’t have to pretend I don’t like him.
