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“Oh, I know. I have no desire to interfere. I’ll pay, and show up when and where you need me to.” I learned that long ago.

“Want to talk about the date?”

“Definitely not,” I answer. “I want to know how to delete that Tinder thing, please.”

“Oh, come on, after one date? You’re not even trying,” Tala says like I’m a quitter.

“I tried.”

“For a day,” she says,

“It was enough!” It really was.

The triplets have gone to the polo club so Tala can sign up for the summer season, and it’s their fundraising dinner. I decided I wasn’t in the mood. I am actually just terrified someone will recognize me from Tinder and grope me like at the golf club. Public humiliation isn’t exactly my idea of a good night out. I ordered in from the Mexican place a few blocks away, and top up the half drunk whiskey Lycan poured me earlier today. Taking my dinner and my drink, I make myself comfortable in my study. There’s an online stamp auction that I really don’t want to miss. I log in and start stalking the lots that I am interested in. Some people have no idea what treasures these are, and often these online sales are where you pick up a very special stamp for next to nothing.

I bid on one or two that I don’t have in my collection, and scroll to see what is still coming up later. My phone buzzes, and vibrates, and dances across the desk with notifications. It's almost ten at night, who is messaging at this hour?

It’s the god-damned-Tinder thing again. Do people not chat during the day? Like when they’re awake? I just unmatch and block all the incoming messages — because after today, they’re probably just Karen’s. I pause though when I get to Channing.

I don’t know why, but I liked arguing with her. I open the chat. She hasn’t responded since this morning. So I send a message.

I have a laugh. Imagining that scenario in my head. Channing is funny, sarcastic, but funny.

Winky faces again. Jesus. I don't know which wink is what.