“Except, maybe you can help me.”
She moved next to him, putting her right elbow on the bar, her left foot on the rail, mimicking his stance exactly. “I’ll do my best.”
“What is it with women?”
She raised both eyebrows, pursed her lips, but at least she didn’t burst out laughing. “I don’t know. Can you narrow that down any?”
He sipped his drink, surprised yet again that he wasn’t drunker. Usually his limit was two, on a bad night three. This was his fourth screwdriver. He remained disappointingly sober. “Narrow it down? Okay. Let’s try this. Why do women think it’s perfectly fine to change their minds every twenty seconds? First it’s yes, then it’s no, then it’s maybe, then back to yes, then damn no. Are you starting to see the drift here or should I continue?”
“Perfectly clear,” Marla said, nodding so her red hair flowed down past her shoulders, then back up. “I’m familiar with the pattern.”
“So? What’s the deal? Why can’t women say yes and mean yes?”
“Sometimes they do.”
“When? When exactly do they do that? What in hell does it take to make a woman mean what she says? I don’t get it.”
Marla patted his shoulder. “It must be frustrating. But it’s not personal.”
“It sure as hell feels personal.”
“Personal is usually when she says no and means no.”
“You’re saying rejection is final.”
“Almost all the time.”
“Almost?”
“Yeah, see, because there might be new information.”
“I’m not talking about court proceedings here. I’m talking about-” He stopped, unwilling to get more detailed about the situation. He was still working for Marla’s boss.
“It’s tricky when you’re talking about…stuff. Because with…stuff, there are a lot of factors. When women do say yes, they usually mean yes forever, so there aren’t many casual yeses. And sometimes women can think that they’re saying yes to one thing and then realize it’s a completely other thing they’ve said yes to, and then they’re not sure about the yes, so that’s when the maybe comes into play. But the no, that’s typically pretty clear, except when the no is because the woman is frightened about a new situation, and so she says no, but that really doesn’t mean no, it’s mostly a maybe, but the man, he needs to give her time to see that there’s nothing to be afraid of, and that she won’t ruin her career because she falls in love.”
Dan blinked twice. Shockingly, he’d understood everything Marla had said, specifically that last bit. “Okay, so let’s say some men get it about the being afraid part, and some men make allowances for that which seem to work but not really. Then what?”
“Keep trying?” she asked, her voice going way up high.
“But when is it real stupid for a man to keep trying? How does a man know when no is no and yes is yes?”
“That one I can sort of help with.”
“Oh?”
She nodded. “There’s a yes that when you hear it, you know that it’s a forever yes. It’s different from a maybe yes, and definitely different from a no yes.”
He looked at his vodka. Maybe he was drunk. “You’re sure about this.”
“Absolutely. So don’t worry about it. It takes time to get to the forever yes.”
He didn’t dare look at her, so he kept studying his drink. “What if I’m not sure I’m ready for a forever yes?”
“Then it’s good that it’s not here yet. Just be patient.” She touched his arm with two fingers. “She’s worth it.”
He met her sympathetic gaze. “Am I?”
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I’d like to think so. But only you can answer that question.”
“Where’s your guy?”
Her face changed completely, lighting up from the inside. “He’s busy with one of the photographers, but he’s going to come get me when he’s done.”
“You seem pretty happy with him.”
“I am. He’s so wonderful. And interesting, and funny. Sweeter than anyone, and I love that he’s so much more than just his looks, you know? Not that his looks aren’t incredible, but he’s so much more than that. He’s got all these plans for the future and he doesn’t buy into all the artificial junk about modeling and stuff. I don’t know, he’s just…”
He smiled, happy for her. “Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
“I want to say be careful.”
“Careful? How is that possible? To be careful means not caring all the way. Not opening my heart. Then you wouldn’t know. And it would be too easy to miss out on the one thing that could be the most important thing of all.”
The band started again, playing “String of Pearls,” a Glenn Miller tune, as Marla walked away. Dan wished the boat ride was over. He needed time to think. He liked so much about Jessica, but was it love? Was his mother right about him? He’d always been a romantic and it had gotten him into trouble time and time again. Maybe this was just the same old, same old. Maybe he wasn’t really seeing Jessica for who she was, but as some amalgam of who he wanted her to be.
For sure, he’d never experienced anything even close to the experience of making love to her. And when they talked, there was a rightness to the conversations. He felt good with her, wanted to know more about her.
Maybe backing off was the right thing. Goddamn it, this was crazy. He’d never equivocated like this, not over any woman. Not over anything for that matter.
He no longer wanted to find out what women wanted. He wanted only to find out what one specific woman wanted. The question was, how?
THE NIGHT ENDED, at least for Jessica, just after midnight. Because she wasn’t officially in charge of the event, she didn’t have to stay to the bitter end.
Owen had hovered, of course, when she’d said good-night, and Dan had risen to the occasion once again. Attentive, respectful, charming. Everything she could hope for in a date, real or not.
They walked down to the pier, arm in arm, smiling, their bodies touching with each step. She felt the same shimmer of excitement that had been the constant since that first day. It was as if when they touched, they completed an electrical current. No one else did it to her. She’d never known it was possible.
They reached the street and got in line to wait for a cab. She turned to him. “What is it that you like about me?” she asked.
The question clearly took him by surprise. “Is this a test?”
“No. Think of it as research. Come on, what appeals?”
“There are a lot of things.”
“Name five.”
“Okay,” he said, stretching the word. Let’s see…”
“Nothing? Not one thing comes to mind?”
“No, no. Oh, God, no. Give me a second to get my thoughts together, that’s all.”
“And it can’t be about sex.”
His face fell. “Oh.”
She elbowed him. “I can’t believe-”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Come on. You’re…”
She stepped back, waiting.
His eyes softened and he touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “I like your drive, your intensity. You’re honest, and you make no bones about who you are and what you want. You certainly come up with creative
