" “I just wanted you to know,” Alba told me, sounding hungry and decidedly sober, “that I’m half-naked right now and eating chocolate cake.”
“Except then,” Alba corrected, “I’ll keep my clothes on.”
The next evening, over our dessert—a brown-butter quince tart paired with a panna cotta flapjack—Alba made sure to clear up any lingering ambiguity from our phone conversation.
“I was not totally naked when we spoke,” she confided, slipping a gob of panna cotta onto her tongue. “I had on leather chaps.”
-Eric