For some reason, this makes me glow as if it were something romantic.
“No, of course I don’t mind.” I think for a moment. He probably can’t afford jewelry on his meager salary. Jewelry has rather serious overtones anyway, even when the jewelry in question is not a ring. Not many options here. “How about a scarf?” I reply at last. “They’re discreet enough.”
He nods, gets a thoughtful look, then gets up, stumbles to the bureau, and digs around. The scarf he brings out is a large square made of fine black silk. “I’ll find something else to put my tarot deck in,” he says. “This seems very you; when you asked for a scarf, my tarot cloth came to mind. Black. Of course. I can’t think of anything more symbolically appropriate. Give me your right wrist, please.”
I hold out my wrist, and he wind
