Chapter 4: Nice Wig

[FIRST DATE CHAPTER]

[the candle scene!!! the candle scene!!!]

[he orders for her and she HATES it and then she loves it]

"To talk about you," Maxine said.

"About me."

"That's what he said. 'I'd like to talk to you about my wife.' Very formal. Like a hostage video."

"Where?"

"Some steakhouse on Rush Street. Eight o'clock." She studied my face. "I can cancel. I'm not trying to step into anything."

"Don't cancel."

"No?"

"Go. Eat something expensive. Order the lobster and put it on the hotel."

She looked at me a beat too long.

"You're up to something."

"I'm always up to something. It's my whole job."

At seven-thirty I sat in front of the dressing mirror at the club.

Zelda held up three wigs like a game show host.

"Glamorous widow. Retired lounge singer. Aunt who's seen some things."

"The aunt."

"The aunt is my favorite."

The aunt was a grey bouffant, cat-eye glasses on a chain, and a fake fox stole that had shed on every show since 2021.

I drew on two eyebrows a little higher than mine.

I found the voice. Low, scraped, forty years of menthols.

"Darling," I said to the mirror. "You call this a martini?"

Zelda clapped.

Columbo left the room.

"I'm coming with you," Zelda said.

"You're too memorable."

"I'm wearing a cardigan."

"You're wearing a sequined cardigan."

"It's the only kind I own."

I took the train alone.

The steakhouse was dark wood and brass and men talking about golf.

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