“This is great,” he said, holding up his coffee mug. “Thanks.”
“No problem. Tell me something. Was there an event that got you thinking about all this?”
He didn’t seem to mind that she’d brought them round to their earlier conversation. “Nothing that stands out. Although I was listening to this guy who wrote a book about happiness.”
“Dan something?”
“Yeah. Dan Gilbert. Harvard guy, but I won’t hold that against him. He said that the things we think are going to make us happy usually don’t. Not for the long run.”
“Right, right. That we tend to use our imaginations to predict the things that will make us happy, when we’d be better off using outside resources. Other people who’ve gone through the experience.”
“That’s it,” he said. “The part that got me was how he talked about how our world is built on the supposition that more material goods equals more happiness. Not that I hadn’t heard that before, but it’s a damn hard concept to dismiss. Anyway, he also said that the happiest people were those with strong social connections. Family and friends. Like you have.”
“I’m not close to my family at all.”
“No, but you’ve created an alternative in your coworkers. I see how you all interact. It’s not like that for me.”
“Because you’re the boss?”
“That’s some of it, but not all. I suppose I could have made an effort to make friends with other CEOs.”
“But?”
He put down his cup. “Let me tell you about my poker night. I go once every month or so, if I can. Nothing too formal because we’re all busy, successful guys. We’ve known each other for years. And every single time I’m there, it ends up being a pissing contest.”
“Kind of like playing baseball trivia?”
He sighed. Picked his mug up. “Yeah. Kind of like that.”
“What would you want it to be?”
He took a sip first, then said, “I watched Holly play tonight. Half the time, she didn’t even bother to select an answer, even though she had a one-in-five chance of being right. She got too involved in talking, or laughing, or just watching. And I don’t think it’s just because she didn’t have a chance at winning. She was there to socialize. She won because she was there.”
“I don’t see that as a solution for you. There’s no way you could go to that bar on Monday night and ignore the play. You’re too competitive.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be. Not all the time, anyhow. Maybe I’d like to go to a party and not see how many new contacts I can score. I enjoyed yesterday so much, I didn’t care who won. Well, not much. I wanted you to have a great day. That was it. The whole goal.”
She felt something inside, another shift she hadn’t expected. She mattered to him. Everything he’d done since the party had shown her that, and yet she still found it unbelievable. “You did an extraordinarily good job.”
“I wasn’t…Thanks. The point is, I couldn’t tell you the last time my agenda wasn’t about winning. And I suppose I did win, but it was different. I felt fantastic last night. After I dropped you off, I went home. I read, watched a little TV, went to bed. I haven’t felt as good or slept as well in ages.”
“Wow. Maybe you should keep doing that.”
His grin was teasing and warm. “Taking you to Dodger games?”
She smiled back. “Stepping outside your comfort zone. Building a new social network.”
“I don’t know. It’s not easy.”
“I have to give it to you. You’re sure trying.”
“I am. It’s so unlike me. This isn’t the kind of thing I do. I’ve never had to. I was always part of whatever social group I wanted. All through school I had the right friends, I was in the right sports, the top fraternity. This is outside of my experience.”
“That’s what I don’t get. Why now?”
He shook his head, then his gaze caught hers. He stared at her for a long time, the expression on his face changing from confusion to something more intense and unsettling.
“What?” She broke the connection, suddenly uncomfortable with how he was making her feel.
“I think about you a lot.”
She had to put her mug down before it slipped from her fingers. “Me?”
“Yes, you. It would be a lot smoother of me to make something up, but I don’t want to do that. I’m not on sure ground here, so forgive me. I don’t think I’ve known anyone like you.”
“I’m not that unique.”
“I doubt it. Maybe the world is filled with people who are pragmatic and sensible and sure of themselves without having to win all the time. You love sports, but you don’t play games.”
Paul stood up and she could see the tension in his body. His shoulders were tight; he rubbed his hands together as he paced on her pale Berber carpet.
She felt badly for him. This had to be difficult, questioning the dream life he’d built for himself. “Do something, then. Who was it that said if you always do what you always did, you’ll always get what you always got?”
He stopped, came back to the couch, only this time he sat right next to her. His expression was expectant and the scent of him faint but familiar, reminding her of the night they’d slept together. “I am doing something. I’m here. I keep coming back to you. But I know you don’t want me.”
She looked at her hands. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Not that you said it out loud, but I know you don’t believe I’m someone worth knowing.”
“I…” That was exactly what she’d thought, but if she could do it again, she’d have responded differently.
He touched her, his hand warm on hers. It made her look at him again, to see the sincerity in his gaze. “Give me a chance.”
She had to swallow the lump in her throat. The unsteady beat of her heart. “I don’t know what that means.”
He leaned toward her, close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath. For a second, she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, his words were quiet, humble. “I love horror movies. And playing softball. I’ve never been in a book club, but I’d give it a try. I want to be in your life. It’s crazy. I don’t get why. But you’re the key.”
It was one of the scariest things he’d ever done. Embarrassing as hell. There was nothing concrete he could point to as the cause or the reason. But it felt as real as it gets.
“I don’t know what to say.” Her gaze met his. “What I do know is that we’re from very different worlds. I don’t understand a lot about who you are. I admit it. I’ve probably assumed too much about you, and that’s not fair.”
“For instance?”
She shook her head.
“I can take it.”
After a moment when he thought she might tell him to forget it, she nodded once. “In my experience, people who are very attractive seem to live on a different planet. It’s earth, but it’s rarefied. I understand it, honestly.”
“Rarefied?”
She nodded, knowing she needed to find the right words. “We’re wired to admire beauty. It all goes back to the survival instinct and procreation, but that’s not the world I live in, either. I come from a family of exceptionally good-looking people and I’ve seen how things are easier for them. They got away with amazing things. Their choices were vast. And it gave them all an attitude of entitlement. Scratch the surface of any one of my darling brothers and sisters and you’ve pretty much reached the other side. There’s no there there.”
“Wow.” He exhaled heavily. “Okay,” he said. His gaze hadn’t wavered from her. “That’s not all, is it? There’s something that you don’t particularly want to say.”
He was right. Her theories were her own, but they’d been with her a long time, and dammit, he’d asked. “Mostly, I think what’s lacking is compassion. It’s not their fault. Compassion comes from pain. And while they’ve all had their ups and downs, not one of them has ever gone through hell and come out the other side, stronger for the experience.”
He wanted to tell her he’d been through hell plenty of times, but he hadn’t. She was right about having it easy. People had always seemed to want him to succeed. And for most of his life, that had been enough. More than enough. “I’m guilty of everything you said. I can see how you’d assume I wouldn’t be enough for you.”
She blinked at him and he was beginning to know that look. She was thinking about what he’d said, thinking deeply. “I’m not foolish enough to pretend that the lens I’ve looked through isn’t muddy. I’m no paragon, myself. I spent years and years living with jealousy and bitterness. It was hard being the ugly one.”
“You’re not—”
She stopped him. “We’re being honest here, remember?”
“Okay. I swear. I’m being honest. You don’t look like the rest of your family. But you’re not ugly.”
“Paul.”
“Hey. I don’t want to get sidetracked here, but dammit, I’m not lying to you. I’m the first to admit I’m shallow as hell, but even I can see how lovely your eyes are. How when you smile, your whole face lights up. I find you…arresting. But let’s get back to me while I’m still brave enough to ask. Do you believe I’m destined to be this shallow forever? Can you even consider that there might be more to me than you think there is?”
She didn’t answer, only this time, he didn’t see her telltale blinks. He felt a hopelessness that filled him with dread. This was ridiculous. He tried to get up, but her hand caught his and she held him steady.
“I think you can be anything you set your mind to.”
He looked at her again, trying to see beyond the words. Her eyes glistened, and her mouth quivered just a bit. This was new. Gwen wasn’t sentimental and she wasn’t shy about telling it like it was, which left him…
Confused.
“You’re not shallow,” she said. “I’m the one who misjudged. I never expected—”
He shook his head. “You think you’re surprised.”
He got a smile for that.
“So you think there’s a chance. That we could be friends, I mean.”
“There’s a chance.”
He sat back on the couch, slouching awkwardly but not wanting to move away from her. “I don’t have an act two, you know. No clue what to do next.”
“Have you considered writing about it?”
“Me? God no.”
Her laughter changed the air. “No writing, then. How about just doing what you’re doing?”
“And what would that be, exactly?”
“Reading articles that have no opinion on Britney Spears. Coming to trivia night. I do believe there might be a space for you on our softball team, if you can find the time.”
He squeezed her hand. “So that’s a no about the book club, right?”
“Tell you what. I’ll get you a copy of the book we’re reading this month. After you’ve finished it, you let me know if you’re interested in joining us.”
“Is it about Britney Spears?” he asked.
“Amusing,” she said archly. “Seriously. That was amusing.”
“Yeah, yeah. But really. Is it fiction?”
“It is,” she said.
“Is it thick?”
“Very.”
He sighed. “Bring it on. I can’t promise anything, but what the hell.”
“No expectations. Some of my closest friends don’t share my taste in books.”
He narrowed his eyes, letting her know this was important. “Are you into Japanese horror?”
“God, yes. I loved Ju-on. Hated the American version.”
That made him sit up straight. “Yes. American directors don’t know what the hell they’re doing when it comes to that moody stuff. And I don’t consider torture porn to be horror.”
She lifted her hand for a high five, which he obliged, but it made him laugh.
“What?”
“Nothing. You just keep on surprising me is all.”
“Sweetie, I don’t hold a candle to you in the surprise department. You pretty much took my breath away tonight.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded as she stood, pulling him up with her. “Yes. It’s late. And I have to be bright and perky tomorrow morning.”
“Interviewing some new hot scientist?”
“Yup.” She led him to the front door. “He’s got mad physics skills.”
“But can he kick your ass at baseball trivia?”
“That’s the first question of the interview.”
He laughed.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“Doesn’t matter. Just…” She stepped up to him to kiss his cheek.
He took hold of her shoulders and turned. Her lips met his. Just like back in that hotel. Only, he wasn’t drunk or hungover.
She pulled away, but only for a second. When she kissed him back, it was the real deal, even if he didn’t understand why.
Pushing aside all the questions and doubts, he decided to enjoy the moment. The softness of her lips. The way she gasped when he tasted her tongue.
The night had been filled with wonders, but this one topped them all.
He wanted Gwen. Not just to be his friend, but to…Oh, shit.
IN A DAZE Gwen wandered through the living room, picking up the mugs on the coffee table. Tonight had shocked her in so many ways, it was hard to know where to begin. No, that was a lie. The kiss had taken over her brain. The kiss had evidently startled him as much as it had her. When she’d pulled back, his eyes had been wide-open, staring at her.
For God’s sake, she’d kissed him back. With enthusiasm. It had felt amazing and sexy and his hands on her shoulders had made her shiver right to her toes. In fact, she wouldn’t have objected if the kiss had gone on a lot longer.
She found herself in the kitchen, several feet away from the sink. She didn’t remember walking in there. Setting her mind to it, she put the mugs in the dishwasher, turned off the lights and headed for her bedroom.
Still in something of a trance, she got ready for bed, rehashing things he’d said to her tonight. His determination to be in her life was as troubling as it was flattering. It had all been much simpler when he’d been handsome but dumb.
There were a number of things that attracted her to a man, and one main ingredient was depth. She’d had enough of shallow in her early years. Now she looked for kindness, intelligence, humor and compassion. She’d noticed Paul’s kindness at the dance, and even his humor, but she’d written him off on the other must-haves. It had never occurred to her that he could be intelligent, despite his degree and his business acumen. Perhaps if he hadn’t been seeing Autumn—
Autumn. Did she know what Paul was up to? That didn’t seem likely. Autumn would find this whole business unbelievable and distasteful. Not that Gwen gave a particular damn, but it just brought home the utter weirdness of the situation. Paul Bennet wanted to be in her book club? If that wasn’t some cosmic joke…
Paul Bennet had kissed her. On purpose. Her. And she’d kissed him back.
She concentrated on changing into her sleep shirt, then managed to wash her face without zoning out. However, the minute she slipped between the sheets, it was all Paul.
Ridiculously, there was the tiniest temptation to let her thoughts wander to the unlikeliest road she could imagine. That of Paul and her as a couple.
It made her laugh, it was so silly, but she was alone and it was dark, and would she consider being his partner? Sharing her life with him?
No. It couldn’t happen. Sure, he could come to trivia and softball games, and even in bizarro world, her book club. She could see all of that. What she couldn’t see was her in his universe. Where it was all Autumns and they were all shallow and there were cocktail parties where people talked about movie stars as if they were somehow meaningful. Where beauty was the main commodity, the strange quirk of genetics and makeup that worked magic on a camera.
There was nothing about Paul’s world that held any interest for her. Paul might be trying to expand his horizons, but she knew he was the exception. Which made his quest all the more strange.
He would get no points for this trip outside the fold. No one would admire him for wanting more. To that crowd, the only more that mattered was monetary. Bigger cars, flashier clothes. Excess made art form.
While she would admit that she was attracted, okay, strongly attracted, to Paul, it was a limited attraction. Not her idea of a life partner. In fact, she’d been narrowing that ideal for a long time. One critical issue was that she and her unknown perfect mate would have common values. She wasn’t all that particular about religion or political affiliation per se, yet it mattered a lot that her eventual guy saw the world through a familiar lens. In all the successful relationships she’d been privy to, the couples had been more alike than opposites.
She couldn’t imagine Paul and her finding that. She supposed some people might base an entire relationship on the love of sports, but that wasn’t enough for her. And it wouldn’t be enough for him.
Ah, who cared. Not a chance either of them wanted to be together like that. And only a tiny chance that they both wanted to pursue a more sexual relationship.
The mere thought of it made her blush. But after that kiss, she couldn’t discard the whole notion, could she?
Would it be so horrible to make love to Paul?
She turned over, sticking her left hand under her pillow, knowing she hadn’t asked the right question. The one that really mattered.
Would she be too self-conscious to make love to Paul?
God, she wanted it not to matter. She hated shallowness so much, and yet she couldn’t deny that him being so much better-looking had an impact.
All these years, when she’d said looks didn’t matter, had she been telling the truth?
She sighed, wishing none of this had happened. Wishing Autumn had never sent him to take her to the party. Wishing…
Wishing she could stop thinking, and just kiss him one more time.
GWEN WAITED outside the little theater, her hands in her sweater pockets, wondering if this evening was a good idea. Paul would be there any minute, and she would prefer to have her game face on by then. If she could decide what her game was.
The Rialto was playing a double bill of Japanese horror. Ju-on and Ringu. The perfect safe meeting space for two potential friends.
Only, there was the whole after to deal with. It was always better if there were beverages and discussions following favorite films. That seemed safe, but Gwen knew that once the conversation wound down, Paul would walk her to her car. He just would. And that was the moment she was so troubled about.
In the three days since he’d been to her house, they’d spoken on the phone five times. The first, he’d asked her for the name and author of another book she’d mentioned. The second, he’d called about the softball team, and found out that he couldn’t play until next Wednesday. The third, he’d started with a question about the book, then admitted he just wanted to talk. That call had lasted one hour and twenty-two minutes.
Today he’d called twice. Once to ask her if she’d like to see the movies, and again to ask her if he should pick her up. She’d had that answer on the ready.