“I like him with Jordan,” Abbey says, peering at the silent tv where the news shows Leo leaving the Congressional hearing, Jordan in his wake. “They’re like a 50s screwball comedy.”

“This is what I’m saying,” Jed mutters, continuing, “he’s gonna need our help though, cause you know Leo’s hopeless with the romantic gestures,” and it’s just like Abbey to snort and toss in, “Unlike you, of course, the maestro-” and there’s nothing to say to that other than, “Caught you, didn’t I, ma petite fromage.”