“You just said it yourself. Parents love their kids.”
Verraday nodded. “Listen, before you leave. You still up for going to that Thai restaurant with me next weekend?”
Maclean frowned. “Sorry. I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
Verraday had an anxious, sinking feeling, and he didn’t want to push Maclean for a reason. Maclean had read Jensen’s diary. He could only imagine what Jensen must have written in there. Probably something about Verraday checking out the thumbnails of her in lingerie. It was excruciatingly embarrassing, and no doubt it would have extinguished any budding romantic feelings that Maclean had toward him. He resigned himself to it. What could he expect? He was an idiot to have taken Jensen’s bait, and the Internet was a merciless public arena that didn’t allow you to conceal any lapses in judgment. He might as well have set up a Twitter feed to announce his sexual tastes and lack of common sense to the world.
“That’s too bad” was all he could muster by way of a response. But he didn’t push it, because he really didn’t want to hear the reason she had changed her mind about going out on a date with him.
“For one thing,” Maclean continued, “the doctor says you won’t be out of here until next week. And I’m not really into Thai food, so I’ll have to pass.”
“Sure, I understand,” said Verraday, trying not to sound dejected.
Then Maclean grinned at him mischievously. “But I heard there’s a Bettie Page exhibit on at the MoMA. Could be fun. What do you say?”