I sat still, not wanting to take his bait.
“If he was real, you figured, then she could be real. Couldn’t she? And not an actress — actor, sorry. My wife keeps telling me I should call them actors.”
He turned around in his seat, as if realizing his approach wasn’t absorbing very well, giving me his full attention. For a second I thought he was going to grab me — that my door would swing open, and I’d be pushed out into traffic.
“I’m happy you didn’t call the police.” He extended his hand and smiled.
I had to contend with the idea of shaking Wallace’s hand, as if playing out some quaint gentleman’s game. I also wondered whether or not I stood a chance in a fist fight in a Prius. I shook his hand while looking the other way, wishing immediately I’d squeezed it harder.
“You could say the
