‘‘Here, I want you to get a dress for tonight; opera suitable.’’ Alexi tosses a credit card at me across his desk as he walks into the room I have been sitting in, waiting for him for the last half hour. He told me to come up here, and as usual, like every fucking time, he made me wait for him until I couldn’t stand it any longer, then wanders in when I am on the verge of storming out.

He does it on purpose, and it grinds on me hellishly. The guy gets a kick out of me sitting ...