Page 20 of Give & Take

At my astonished look after he’s rattled these off, he grins. Rakishly. “That’s boats, Ms. Bloor.”

The smile plus my last name makes me feel simultaneously like a blushing schoolgirl and a pervy schoolmarm.

I’d cleared my throat, completely out of questions.

Now, I stop pacing next to Nova. I can see all she’s written on the evaluation form she made is “RAFIELLE”.Three times, with several underlines under each. She circles his name again several times, her eyes on me.

I press her clipboard up against her. “I’ll be doing police record checks on every shortlisted candidate.”

Raphael nods. “I’d expect nothing less.”

“Comprehensive ones. Where they check local and national records. And charges, not just convictions. I have connections.” I can’t actually get that informationanymore since I left my law practice and let my bar membership lapse, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Raphael pulls at his collar, hesitating. “Okay well, in that case Idoneed to inform you I was arrested once.”

He gives an apologetic look to Nova, who looks crestfallen. I almost feel bad.

Except I don’t because I’m delighted I have an excuse to say no to him. I’m saying no regardless, but this will help. “Oh, really?” I practically crow as I resume my pacing, this time with a little skip in my step.

“Yeah,” Raphael says. “There was this one time I uh… streaked across the field at a football game.”

I stop my pacing. “You what?”

“What’s streaked?” Nova asks.

“It’s where you—” Raphael begins, but I interrupt.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does kind of, to the story but—” He drops it when I glare. “I was eighteen. It was a dare. But I made it a bet. Told my friend I’d do it if he could come up with five grand for our other friend. His dad had testicular cancer and needed money for the treatment.”

I close my eyes. Of course this guy can turn an arrest into a hero story.

“Testik…la-lar?” Nova asks.

“It’s a gland,” I snap.

“We raised the money in fifteen minutes,” Raphael says, without an ounce of boastfulness. If anything, he just looks happy at the memory. “They made an announcement over the PA. I was in the news, you can look it up. I was never charged.”

“So streaked is showing your glands?” Nova asks. Her pen is poised over her paper.

“No,” Raphael says, “Streaked is when you…run across the field in a football game or something public like that with no clo?—”

“You’re not supposed to do it,” I say tersely. I widen my eyes to show him to zip it.

“Right,” says Raph. “Don’t do that.”

Nova scrunches her brows. She’s too smart to be fooled, but I move on. I’ll explain it later, without an audience.

“Okay,” I say, considering this new information. Irritated now that my gotcha is a got-me. “Well, that’s—” what, noble? Stupid? “That’s all we need to know, I think. We’d like to thank you for your time.”

Raphael stands up. “Did I tell you about what a good cook I am? Or how I can teach the girls all about impediments to feminism in early 20thcentury literature?”

“No,” Nova says, “you didn’t.” She turns to me. “You’ll notice he also didn’t say anything about excessive boogers.”

Raphael grimaces.

I get the strong sense I’m missing something. Like I’m the last one in on a joke. “Wait a minute.” I snap my gaze to my daughter. “Do you mean the glandular problem the last interviewee mentioned?”

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