“It’s not like I wanted her to break her leg,” Joey had said.

“No, I’m sure. I’m sure you wanted the Iraqis to welcome us with wreaths of flowers, too. I’m sure you’re very sorry about how fucked up everything’s gotten. Just not quite sorry enough to not cash in.”

“What was I supposed to do? Say no? Make her go by herself? She’s actually pretty depressed. She’s really looking forward to this trip.”

“And I’m sure Connie understands about that. I’m sure you’ve gotten her total seal of approval.”

“If that were any of your business, I might dignify it with an answer.”

“Hey, you know what? It is totally my business if I have to lie to her about it. I already have to lie about my opinion of Kenny Bartles whenever I talk to her, because you took her money and I don’t want her worrying. And now I’m supposed to lie about this, too?”

“How about just not talking to her constantly instead?”

“It’s not constantly, asshole. I’ve talked to her, like, three times in the last three months. She considers me a friend, all right? And apparently entire weeks can go by without her hearing anything from you. So what am I supposed to do? Not pick up when she calls? She calls me for information about you. Which, there’s something a little weird about this picture, right? Since she is still your girlfriend.”

“I’m not going to Argentina to sleep with your sister.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha.”

“I swear to God, I’m going as a friend. The same way you and Connie are friends. Because your sister’s depressed and it’s a nice thing to do. But Connie’s not going to understand that, so if you could just, like, not mention it, if she calls, that would be the kindest thing you could do for all concerned.”

“You’re so full of shit, Joey, I don’t even want to talk to you anymore. Something’s happened to you that makes me literally sick to my stomach. If Connie calls me while you’re gone, I don’t know what I’m going to say. I probably won’t tell her anything. But the only reason she calls me is she doesn’t hear enough from you, and I’m sick of being in the middle like that. So you do whatever the fuck you want, just leave me out of it.”

Having sworn to Jonathan that he wouldn’t have sex with Jenna, Joey felt insured against every contingency in Argentina. If nothing happened, it would prove him honorable. If something did happen, he would not have to be chagrined and disappointed that something hadn’t. It would answer the question, still open in his mind, of whether he was a soft person or a hard person, and what the future might hold for him. He was very curious about this future. Judging from his nasty text message, Jonathan wasn’t looking to be a part of it either way. And the message definitely did sting, but Joey, for his part, was sick of his friend’s relentless moralizing.

On the plane, in the privacy of their vast seats, and under the influence of a second large drink, Jenna deigned to remove her sunglasses and converse. Joey told her about his recent trip to Poland, chasing the mirage of Pladsky A10 parts, and his discovery that all but a very few of the seeming scores of suppliers advertising these parts on the internet were either bogus or sourced from the same single outlet in Lodz, where Joey and his almost worse than useless interpreter had found shockingly little to buy at any price. Taillights, mudguards, push plates, some battery boxes and grilles, but very few of the engine and suspension parts that were critical for maintaining a vehicle out of production since 1985.

“The internet’s fucked up, isn’t it?” Jenna said. She’d picked all the almonds out of her own nut bowl and was now picking them out of Joey’s.

“So fucked up, so fucked up,” he said.

“Nick always said international e-commerce is for losers. E-anything-financial, really, unless the system’s proprietary. He says free information’s by definition worthless. Like, if a Chinese supplier is listed on the internet, you can tell, just from that, that it can’t be any good.”

“Right, I know that, I’m very aware of that,” Joey said, not wanting to hear about Nick. “But truck parts should be more like eBay or something. Just an efficient way to connect buyers with sellers they might not be able to find otherwise.”

“All I know is Nick never buys anything on the internet. He doesn’t even trust PayPal. And he’s, you know, pretty well up on these things.”

“Well, and that’s why I went to Poland. Because you have to do these things in person.”

“Right, that’s what Nick says, too.”

Her somewhat slack-jawed chewing of the almonds was irritating him, as were her fingers, lovely though they were, as they rooted methodically in his nut bowl. “I thought you didn’t like to drink,” he said.

“Heh-heh. I’ve been working on increasing my tolerance lately. I’ve made great strides.”

“Well, anyway,” he said, “I need some good things to happen in Paraguay, or I don’t know what I’m going to do. I spent a fortune on shipping that Polish crap, and now I’m hearing from my partner, Kenny, that there wasn’t even enough to get partially paid for. It’s sitting in some goat pasture outside Kirkuk, probably not even guarded. And Kenny’s pissed off with me because I didn’t send some other kind of truck parts instead, even though they’re totally useless if they’re not from the same model and manufacturer. Kenny’s like, Just send me weight, because we get paid by weight, if you can believe that. And I’m like, These are thirty-year-old trucks that weren’t built for dust storms or Middle Eastern summers, they’re going to be breaking down, and when you’re trying to run convoys through an insurgency, you do not want your truck to be breaking down. And meanwhile I’ve got plenty of outflow but no income.”

He might have worried about admitting this to Jenna if she’d been paying attention, but she was now yanking on her onboard video screen, peevishly trying to wrest it from its stowage hole. He lent a gallant hand.

“So, I’m sorry,” she said, “you were saying…? Something about not getting paid?”

“Oh, no, I’m definitely getting paid. In fact, I’m probably going to end up making more than Nick does this year.”

“I doubt that, frankly.”

“Well, it’s going to be a lot.”

“Nick’s in a whole different universe of remuneration.”

This was too much for Joey. “Why am I here?” he said. “Do you even want me here? You’ve either been ignoring me or talking about Nick, who I thought you were broken up with.”

Jenna shrugged. “I told you I was grouchy. But a little word to the wise? I’m not too terribly interested in your business deal. The whole reason you’re here and Nick isn’t is I got sick of hearing him talk about money all day and all night.”

“I thought you liked money.”

“It doesn’t mean I like to hear about it. You’re the one who brought it up.”

“I’m sorry I brought it up!”

“OK, then. Apology accepted. But also? I don’t see why I can’t mention Nick if you’re going to be talking about your woman all the time.”

“I talk about her because you ask about her.”

“I’m not sure I see the difference.”

“Well, and also, she’s still my girlfriend.”

“Right. I guess that is one difference.” And she leaned over suddenly and offered her mouth to his. First the merest brush, then a softness almost like warm whipped cream, and then full flesh. Her lips felt every bit as beautiful, as complexly animated and valuable, as they had always looked to him. He leaned into the kiss, but she pulled away and smiled approvingly. “Happy boy,” she said.

When a flight attendant came to take their dinner orders, he asked for beef. He was planning to eat nothing but beef for the entire trip, on the theory that it was somewhat constipating; he hoped to make it all the way to Paraguay before he had to go ring-hunting in the bathroom. Jenna watched Pirates of the Caribbean while she ate, and he put on his headphones and watched it with her, leaning awkwardly into her space rather than pulling up his own screen, but there were no further kisses, and the one drawback of business-class seats, as he discovered when the movie ended and they bedded down beneath their respective comforters, was that no cuddling or incidental contact was possible.