“No, that’s good,” he says. “I know what you’ll like.”
He glances up, and the sommelier immediately appears, welcoming him back. As Aleksandr tells him the name of some Chablis, Lili looks over the rest of the dining room. Seeing couples, friends and families, she realizes how she and Aleksandr look—in the context of this restaurant, the type of place people go for important occasions, celebrations, and the two of them in this corner.
Their waiter departs, and worry rises; she should clarify—
“You’re on birth control, correct?”
Lili’s eyes widen.
Looking over the menu, he seems much too interested in the selection of entrées.
“Of course, I am,” she says emphatically.
Relief washes over his face. “Good.”
“That should have been a conversation several weeks ago,” she says. “Do you have children scattered all over the world?”
He makes an expression of distaste. “Christ, no,” he says. “And I plan to keep it that way.”
Uncomfortable, Lili navigates away. “What’s your count?” she asks.
“Count?” He looks up.
“You know, your body count. The number of people you’ve slept with. If we’re having this type of discussion.”
“Counting from before or after you were born?”
Lili throws her napkin at him. Aleksandr grins, catching it easily. “I’m serious,” she insists.
“I’m not sure.”
“You work with numbers. Be sure.”
“This is a rather personal question.”
“You just asked about my reproductive choices.”
“Does this matter? Who genuinely keeps count, that’s ridiculous—”
“Estimate, Petrov. Estimate.”
Aleksandr looks thoughtful for a moment. “I don’t know. Maybe three, four?”
“Wait, what? Only three or four?”
“No, three or four hundred.”
Lili stares at him. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“What?”
“Three or fourhundredwomen?”
“Not just women, Lili.”
Speech fails her for a few moments. He raises an eyebrow, face suddenly cold. “Is that a problem?”
“Of course not,” she rushes. “No, I just didn’t expect that. Is that—is that still, like, you know... part of your life?”
