"My bill?"
"Are you worried?" Ginger interrupts to ask her.
"Worried? What about?
"Your bill."
"I don't know what you mean."
"It's English," I explain.
"A bill's what we call a check."
She stares at me a moment. I note a frank intelligence in her eyes. Her steady gaze is a frank moment of being seen for who I truly am. It is a look that only intimates can share.
She pushes her chair back and stands up.
"This is creepy," she says to Matt, and stands up. "I'm off."
Matt follows Monica from the restaurant. Ginger sits down in her seat and point me to Matt's.
"Silly girl. I had more to give her if she'd only waited." She pulls two more copies of my book from her bag. And a small digital recorder which she turns to off.
"Sign those two, Martin. One to Dear Bill, the other to Dearest Hillary."
I do so, while Ginger puts on an earphone and listens to the recent recording.
"Poor thing. Did you hear her? Your Mother Meera is something. Starr should get her on his side. You see how she won the girl's confidence in moments? Monica admitting she's in trouble. 'I'm worried about my Bill,' she says."