There was a pause, and she thought he wouldn't answer. But then he said, “Not anymore.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing happened. She was Filipina. I met her in Manila. When we got back to the States, I found out she wasn't who I thought she was.”
“Maybe she found out the same thing about you.”
“I'm sure she did.”
“Kids?”
A long moment went by. He said, “A daughter. They live in Manila.”
She couldn't help being intrigued at his obvious reluctance, and more by his ultimate willingness to answer. “You don't see them?”
He shrugged. “It's a long way away.”
“But that's not why you don't see them.”
He took a long swallow of gin. “What about you? Boyfriend?”
She shook her head. “There was someone in law school. But not now.”
“Why not? They must go crazy for you at your law firm.”
“Why do you say that?”
He looked at her. “Are you fishing for a compliment, or are you really that blind?”
She felt herself blushing, half in anger, half in embarrassment. “I just haven't met anyone.”
“No, that's not it.”
“What do you mean, that's not it? How would you know? You don't know anything about me.”
“I know a lot about you. It's my job to know things about people.”
“Yeah? What do you know?”
“I know that when a woman as beautiful as you is unattached, it's not because she hasn't met anyone. It's because she doesn't want to.”
“And why wouldn't I want to?” she asked, resisting the urge to shift in her seat.
“A lot of reasons. You got to the office at, what, seven o'clock this morning? So you want to make a big splash as a lawyer. A boyfriend would be a distraction. And if people in the office knew you had a boyfriend, they wouldn't hope as hard. If they didn't hope as hard, you couldn't subtly manipulate them as much.”
She couldn't believe what she was hearing. “You're pretty sure of yourself.”
“You asked.”
“What else?”
He took another swallow of gin. “You know any guy you get involved with is going to lose his perspective. You know because it's happened before. He'll probably want to get married right away to lock you in while he can. You can't abide that because you want to keep your options open. Not about men, about your life. You don't know what you really want to do. What you want to be when you grow up.”
“Yeah?” she said, ignoring the provocation. “And what do I want to be?”
“I don't know. But it's not a lawyer.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because if you wanted to be a lawyer, you wouldn't have responded so quickly.”
She shook her head, saying nothing. His cockiness enraged her… but at the same time, she had to admit the things he was saying weren't so far off.
“You want to know why you don't see your family?” she asked.
“I'm sure you're going to tell me.”
“It's because you can't stand an attachment. You can't bear to have someone depend on you. Why is that? Did you disappoint someone along the way, let someone down?”
“You don't know what you're talking about.”
“Yes, I do. If I didn't, you wouldn't have been so quick to argue. It was a departure from your usual style of smug silence.”
He smiled. She couldn't tell if it was the usual condescension, or if he was saying, Touche.
“What is it? You think your daughter is better off with no father than with one who might be unreliable? What is it, a kind of inoculation? Preemptive disappointment?”
He took a sip from his glass. “Just drop it.”
“Why? More fun to get in someone else's head than to have her get in yours?”
“You're not in my head.”
“Tell yourself again. Maybe it'll help you believe it.”
He looked at her, his expression baleful, and she thought again of tremendous pressure and tremendous control. What was it about him that made her want to know what was behind the control, that made her want to increase the pressure to the point where the control would crack? Why had she become so invested in stirring him up? Because he had belittled her? Made some arguably racist remarks? He was petty, and she was allowing him to make her petty, too.
She knew the words were right. Yet they were having no impact at all on her feelings.
Ben drained his glass. “Another?”
She polished hers off, too, fighting the urge to grimace. “Your turn to buy.”
He ordered them two more. She wondered if it was a good idea. She was already buzzed from the first. But there had been a challenge in his offer, and she wasn't going to back away from it.
You see how stupid you're being? she thought. But once again the words had no effect.
They sat in silence for a few minutes. The waitress brought their drinks and moved off. Sarah took a sip and glanced out the window, musing, enjoying her buzz. She liked the bar. She liked sitting in the gloom, watching the street outside as though from some kind of secret aerie. Pearl's was right across the street; she could see the entrance clearly.
And then it hit her. Damn him. Goddamn him.
“You never went to Pearl's,” she said. “You announced you were going there because you thought I might follow you. You came here to watch and see if I did.”
He shrugged. “Something like that.”
“Something like that… I get it, it wasn't me you were expecting, it was what, the other bad people? The Iranian terrorists I work for?”
“I have a suspicious nature, remember?”
“You know what? You're full of shit. No one's suspicious of everyone, not even someone like you.”
“You need to get out more often.”
“I get out plenty. You spent time here when you were a kid, didn't you? It's why you wanted to stay in the city instead of at an airport hotel. And you wanted proximity to North Beach, too, right? Because you know the layout, you knew you could set something like this up. You expect me to believe this is just routine for you? You do it for everyone?”
“I do it when I need to.”
“You'd be doing it if I weren't Iranian?”
“Like I said, I do it when I need to.”
“Why don't you just admit it's because I'm Iranian, that you have a problem with that?”
“I don't have to admit anything to you.”
“Of course you don't. You don't even have to admit it to yourself. Not if you don't have the balls.”
He put his hands on the table and leaned forward. “Listen, honey. You don't live in the real world. You live in a fantasy. And if something intrudes on your little delusion-if you actually have to acknowledge one of the serving class that makes your lifestyle possible, if you get even a hint of a notion of what has to be done on your behalf so you can live the way you think you deserve to-you have a moral-outrage hissy fit. Forgive me if I find it hard to take you seriously.”
He leaned back and finished his gin in one long swallow.
“You're right,” she said. “What I really need to do is wander the earth unfettered and alone, killing people along the way who need killing, wallowing in the tragic nobility of my sacrifice. Oh, and I'll have to abandon my family, of course. That's obviously part of enlightenment.”
She leaned back and emptied her glass as he had his. The gin scorched her throat and burned its way into
