I got Carver’s email on Monday delivered to my work email, which was less than ideal. I forwarded it to my personal email and deleted it from the work computer. At lunch, I huddled under my desk and read his wish list.

He wanted me to surprise him and lead him away at gunpoint. He also wanted to be handcuffed the whole way, both hands.

Once we were at what he called ‘the first location’, he wanted me to eat something with a tantalizing aroma and refuse to share it with him.

He wanted me to undo a few buttons on his shirt and run the barrel of a gun along his bare skin.

After that, it got pretty fuzzy, as he wanted me to make up the rest. Mostly what he wanted was whatever happened with Fletch. He didn’t know that Fletch had paid Natalie so he could scold me.

I met Fletch for dinner at a deli between our two apartments. Fletch’s new look caused a stir wherever he went, but at least three women were staring at him across the dining room as if they’d never seen a man before.

“I ordered a sandwich for you,” he said after he greeted me with a kiss.

“Has it got mustard and olives on it?”

He smiled. “Yes.”

“Good. You have my permission to order for me anytime you feel so inclined.” I stumbled over to a table and he followed me.

“You haven’t got your usual bag with you. Are we not going out tonight?”

He was referring to my bag of spray paint, which I had not remembered to pick up. I stuck out my tongue. “Tonight, we have to talk about Carver Criche. Do you remember him?”

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“Only from the dog molestation posters.”

I snorted. “My brain has done a complete about-face on that issue. We should put those posters back up.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s been harassing me.”

Fletch stared at me like he couldn’t believe his eyes when the lady at the counter called him to pick up his order. He came back with sandwiches, chips, and fountain drinks. “Sorry? He’s been doing what?”

I told Fletch about the cookie handcuffs, the visit to my office, him sending Natalie away, Fletch’s gig, and how Carver had been behind it, and finally, I showed him the list of things he wanted on his date with me.

Fletch read the list with an ashen face. “Does he think you’re going to do all this?”

“I implied I might, just to get him to back off.”

“Should we do it?”

I almost choked on my pop. “Should we do what?”

“Should we take him on the date he wants? Together?”

“I don’t think we should do any such thing. What he wants is gross. It’s clearly a turn-on for him. Do you think you should be doing anything to turn a man on?”

He chuckled. “If you think that would be going too far then it’s probably going too far. Sorry, I mentioned it. If you don’t want to go the prankster route, then you should just tell him that you’re not going to do his date and you don’t care what they do to me. I certainly don’t need to work with anyone from his production company. I have other gigs, other side-jobs, and besides, if I was ever really desperate, I could teach music.”

“Could you?”

“I wouldn’t want to, but I could.”

“Fletch,” I said slowly. “I saw you at the concert, and you looked really happy when you were playing with Blades and Blasters. You did not look like that when you played for the ballet. Are you sure you’re living your life the way you want to?”

He reached across the table and cupped my hand in his. “I’m sure. I’ve known Chase a long time and I do not want to fall deeper into that world.”

“Yet, you let Rin give you that makeover?”

“Free haircut,” he yawned.

I looked down and reluctantly opened the wrapping of my sandwich.

“Besides,” he said, taking advantage of my moment of silence. “My mother has invited the two of us over for dinner next Sunday.”

“She has?”

Fletch nodded. “I’m a little spooked about it. I’d almost rather take Carver on a date.”

I shook my head. “Don’t say that.”