“Bubbles,” she suggested.
“Spherical, and they become hexagonal in groups,” Aldo said, as she frowned to herself. “I’ve been thinking about something you said, too, actually.”
She looked up. “Really?”
“Well, you said you were arrested.”
“Oh.” She didn’t seem overly pleased that this was the thing he remembered, though he felt quite certain she must have known it would stick in his brain. Maybe she was the sort of person who resented being proven right; he could understand that.
“Well, I just … I sort of need to know how you did it,” Aldo admitted, and she gave him a look that suggested he’d better make his point. “Counterfeit is … well, hard to get away with, isn’t it? It couldn’t have taken very long to get caught, seeing as people are always checking big bills. You could use small ones, but mathematically speaking, in order to be worth it that would take—”
“I didn’t make American bills,” she said, interrupting him. “I’m pretty good with digital art,” she explained, “or I was, at one point. I designed foreign bills and took them to exchanges for American currency.”
“That,” Aldo said, “is…” He paused. “Very smart.”
“Not very, actually. A mistake of my youth.”
She didn’t look particularly contrite.
“Can you do something for me?” Aldo asked, and Regan blinked.
“Depends,” she said.
“A small favor, probably,” Aldo said.
“Is this a ‘small favor’ that only I can do?”
“Yes.”
She swept a wary glance over him. “Just don’t be gross. Is it gross?”
“No it’s not gross. Do you think I’m gross?”
“Are you gross?”
“No. Or at least I don’t think so. I just—” This was getting away from him. “Look, I’d just like you to lie to me.”
She blinked. Then frowned.
Then she sighed.
“What does that even mean, Aldo?”
（The first time she’d used his name, she’d been pretending at unfamiliarity. That time, though, he could hear the way it had previously crossed her mind.） “You’re obviously a very good liar,” Aldo said, to which Regan seemed to have to fight a laugh. “Science requires a control group. A known lie,” he clarified, “to compare against possible lies.”
“And why would you need a control group?”
Seemed obvious to him. “Because I want to know when you’re lying to me.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it.
“If I were a liar,” she said, “wouldn’t my lies be extremely valuable currency to me?”
“Probably,” he said. “Though I already know you have no moral opposition to counterfeit.”
Her doe eyes widened, then narrowed.
Then, having decided something for herself, she glanced again at her watch.
“Hungry?” she asked him, looking up.
“Not especially,” he said, since it was rather between meals. “I usually eat after I go to the gym, so—”
“Aldo.” She stepped closer. “I’m asking if you want to go somewhere with me. You know,” she added, “to talk.”
He watched her face for a second, examining her eye contact, the dilation of her pupils.
“You’re lying,” he guessed, and her mouth quirked.
“Am I?” she asked.
“I think so,” he said, and then, upon further reflection, “Do it again.” He didn’t have enough evidence; he’d have to compile it further.
“Aldo,” she sighed, “that’s not how this works. But you can come with me while I get something to eat,” she suggested, “and who knows, maybe I’ll lie to you again.” She seemed perfectly aware that she was offering him something he wanted; she struck him as the sort of person who had a very clear idea what other people hoped to get. “Or maybe I won’t,” she added, bolstering his theory.
“But either way,” she concluded, “I’m leaving.”
He considered it. He hated to have his schedule interrupted, but it wasn’t as if he had anywhere else to be.
“What do you want to eat?” he asked her.
“Thai,” she said, too-quickly.
He frowned.
“That was a lie,” he guessed.
“Hm, I wonder if this will get old,” Regan mused to herself in reply, turning away. “I just have to get my purse,” she tossed over her shoulder, rooting him in place with a glance. “Don’t go anywhere.”