The Last Assassin

'Likewise,' Midori said. They touched glasses and drank.

Delilah knew to start slowly. The secret to seduction isn't really the target's attraction to the seducer. It's more how the seducer makes the target feel about himself. Or, in this case, herself. Yes, looks and appearance are important, but only as a foundation. What has to follow is the feeling of pleasure and flattery brought on by the notion that such an alluring creature could be so genuinely fascinated with me. Making someone feel important, worthwhile, the center of a universe to which he would ordinarily fear to aspire… that was a seduction.

So during their first, and then their second, glass of wine, Delilah asked mostly about Midori's jazz background. Delilah was a fan, after all, and the questions were natural enough. Where did you learn to play the piano? What's the connection to New York? What attracted you to jazz? Who are your influences? What does it feel like to compose a song?

Unlike most men, Midori wasn't entirely blinded by Delilah's attention. She asked lots of questions of her own. But Delilah always managed to turn the conversation back to Midori.

When they had poured out the last of the bottle, Delilah glanced at Midori's hand, as though noticing for the first time that she didn't have a ring. 'Are you married?' she asked.

Midori shook her head. 'No.'

'Forgive me. You had mentioned a baby, so…'

'Nothing to forgive. The father lives in Japan.'

Delilah thought it had the feeling of a rehearsed response. It was just deliberately vague enough to ward off further inquiries without causing discomfort.

'That must be hard,' Delilah said.

'No. It's actually for the best.'

Midori offered nothing further, and Delilah understood that, even buzzed from the wine and Delilah's evident interest, Midori wasn't inclined to talk about this.

Change tack. Try a revelation, a shared confidence.

'My mother raised me alone,' Delilah said, now entirely improvising. 'When I was a girl she wouldn't talk about my father.'

Midori leaned forward slightly. 'Why?'

'Well, I didn't find out until much later. My father left her pregnant with me for another woman.'

'Did you… are you in touch with him now?'

Hmm. Midori had just jumped about two conversational steps ahead of what Delilah had been expecting. Delilah's story had obviously tapped into something that was on Midori's mind.

'I've seen him,' Delilah said, holding back to see whether her story provoked enough curiosity to get Midori to ask more questions.

It did. Midori asked, 'How was that? I mean, if I'm not being too personal.'

Yes, this subject was definitely on the woman's mind. Interesting. Delilah shook her head and said, 'It was okay. He'd like to have a relationship now, but I don't know. I grew up without him and never missed him. At this point, I don't know that I need him in my life.'

Midori nodded. 'So you didn't miss him when you were a girl? You didn't wish… you know, that he and your mother had reconciled, that kind of thing?'

'No. I think it was better that they didn't. Some things shouldn't be forgiven.'

'Not even for the children?'

'No, of course for the children. But the question is, what's best for the children.'

Midori took a sip of wine. 'You're right. That is the question.'

There was a long pause. Delilah said, 'It sounds like this is something you've been thinking about.'

Midori nodded. 'Just recently, the father showed up unexpectedly and paid us a visit.'

Delilah felt her heart beat harder, but her face betrayed nothing.

'Really? How was that?'

Midori sighed. 'Confusing. I thought I'd made up my mind, but now… I don't know.' She took another sip of wine.

Delilah saw an opening. 'Well, if he's the father, why isn't he in your life?'

'It's a long story, actually, and not something I'm comfortable talking about.'

Okay, that wasn't the right approach. She would have to find another way. 'I'm sorry.'

'No, it's all right. It's just… you know, when he saw the baby, that's what really turned my head around. He cried. I'd never seen him cry before. He's not the crying type. And then, two minutes later, we were kissing like I couldn't believe. I don't know how I managed to ask him to go. If he'd pushed it a little harder… I don't know. I just don't know.'

Delilah's face went hot with jealousy and anger and she hoped she wasn't flushing. She had always assumed that, when he wasn't with her, Rain had other women. She certainly had her fill of other men. They didn't get to see each other frequently, and she didn't expect either of them to remain celibate during the other's absence. But a passionate kiss with an ex-lover, which sounded like the start of something much, much more? That was totally different. After all, he had said he was coming to New York to see his child, not to fuck his old girlfriend. And he