"He was an excellent friend," Allegra said honestly. "But, no."
The waiter approached and Allegra briefly abandoned her biography to launch into a friendly, flirty interrogation of the maximum capacity of omelets? At one point, she took out a slightly chewed Bic and sketched a rough equation on the napkin. A terrible glazed look came into the hapless server's eyes, but he did promise to load Pacey's omelet with anything they wanted...provided the pretty blond shark would just put away the diagrams.
"I love math," Allegra said once the shell shocked waiter retreated. "It squeezes the Universe into order. Coincidentally a properly frightening diagram will get you farther than a mafia affiliation sometimes; sopranos ain't got nothing on algebra."
"He didn't exactly keep up," she said, segueing back into the subject with the ease of an alley cat pouring into a room. "Mostly because he never tried to. He was a good acquaintance, and then a highly generous sponsor, and soon enough a very understanding friend. When I needed a chance to escape--well, he helped." She paused, considering. "I think he was bored. Except that nobody expects some rich and English and dying to be bored; it's too, well, boring. I served as a willing distraction and it was a charmed deal for both of us.