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you,” she said.
    The shortcomings of Katya’s small studio apartment were gamely overcome by a coat of yellow paint and her decorating efforts. Glancing around at the white, pressed-wood chairs and other Ikea-style furnishings, Will noted that he’d probably spent thousands of dollars more in furnishing his condo in the marina, with results that resembled a high-tech dorm room. Katya’s apartment, and the way she had made something warm and homey out of what was essentially a dump, told him more about her than any single thing that she had said to him that night.
    Will studied the Matisse and Moscow Ballet posters on the walls as Katya hurried about picking up a bra and a few other stray items of clothing and tossing them in a closet.
    â€œPlease, sit . . . sit,” she said as she returned to him. “Can I get you a drink?”
    Katya stepped past Will to turn the dead bolt. Will moved aside to make room, and they were only a few inches apart, both radiating heat in the cold apartment.
    Katya looked up at Will and brushed a lock of black hair out of her eyes. Will bent down and kissed her, inhaling the metallic aftertaste of vodka. Katya pushed Will back against the door of the apartment. They took each other’s clothes off like two kids unwrapping Christmas presents. Her fingers felt cold as she unbuckled his belt.
    After they struggled out of their clothes, Will was naked in the bed. Katya returned from the bathroom wearing a black bra and panties. She had two tattoos: a tribal design around her ankle and a star on her right shoulder blade. Her navel was pierced by a small silver ring. Will had never slept with a woman with tattoos or piercings before and decided that, for reasons he could not begin to fathom, he liked the idea. Dana, his ex, certainly had not borne tribal markings of any kind. In fact, Will did not know of an attorney with tattoos or piercings. Of course, he had not seen that many attorneys with their clothes off.
    Without saying a word, Katya jumped into bed and straddled him. Her dark hair hung straight down around her face like a curtain. Looking up at her, he found himself unable to resist the urge to touch her navel ring, examining the surface tension of skin where the silver band disappeared to complete its circle inside her. As he drew a circle around her navel with his index finger, her stomach muscles trembled.
    Okay, Will thought. I guess the superpowers have kicked in now.

FIVE
    Will awoke in the morning, hung over, in Katya’s bed with her arm draped across his chest. His head felt like a railroad car in which heavy crates had not been properly secured. He reconstructed the events that had led him to the apartment on Pacific Street, trying to decide whether this was something he was going to regret. The sunlight shone with depressing clarity on the tiny apartment, with its thread-bare sofa and flaking paint. But, then again, it also revealed Katya.
    She was breathing softly into her pillow next to him. He admired the white-on-white of her skin against the sheets. The downy black hair on her forearm. The curve of her back as it dipped beneath the sheet. There was really no telling who she was or what her reaction to him might be when she awoke. Better to lie very still and let this pleasingly strange moment linger.
    He noticed a small stack of CDs next to the bed. Atop the stack was a CD from some Russian rock band with an unpronounceable name. The Slavic fellows on the cover all had shoulder-length hair and some wore headbands, suggesting that somewhere in the Commonwealth of Independent States was a land where eighties hair-metal bands still roamed the earth. Will decided to chalk that one up to cultural differences. Next was a Dave Matthews Band CD (a little pedestrian, but not a deal breaker). At the bottom of the stack was I’m Your Man by Leonard Cohen.
    â€œGood morning,” Katya said, rolling over in bed. Her eyes followed his over to the stack