“Good date last week?”
She pushed away from her desk. “Let’s go get coffee. And no. He ordered for me.”
“Maybe he thought it was polite,” Jason said as he stood back from the doorway to Marsie’s office so that she could go through first. Also polite.
“Well,” Marsie continued after Jason stepped beside her, “he also told me that what I really needed in my life was a man to make all my decisions for me.”
He laughed so hard that he had to stop walking and bend over, his hands on his knees. While he recovered, he heard Marsie exchange brief pleasantries with Françoise, the head of the social justice and poverty center. The next time Jason was on that side of the building, Françoise was sure to ask him what had been so funny.
Jason wasn’t sure he’d be able to explain.
Finally, he stood, able to talk, though he was still wheezing and clutching at his chest. “He said that with a straight face?” His stomach muscles hurt when he talked. “To you?”
“What do you mean, to me?” Marsie had turned around and was standing, looking annoyed, with her hands on her hips.
“Some women want a man who will make all their decisions for them. And hold on.” He held his hand up to stall her from protesting. “Some men want the same from a woman. It’s not about sex. Some people don’t like to take personal responsibility and some want too much. He sounds like the kind of guy who wants too much.”
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t trust him to make a decision for a flea, much less for me.”
They fell into step together again. “Clearly, not the right man for you.”
“Is he the right man for anyone?”
Jason was silent for the few steps it took them to get to the elevator. “Everyone’s got the right person out there for them somewhere.”
She pressed the down arrow with a little more force than he thought necessary, until she responded and he realized that the statement he found reassuring had ruffled her feathers. “You think so? Really? What if they don’t find them? What if all we’re looking for is the perfect person to settle down with?”
The elevator dinged and the doors opened. “Settle down isn’t the same thing as settle,” he said as they stepped into the elevator.
“There’s math reasoning behind settling. Basically, you decide how many people you think you could ever date in your life—want to or could have the potential to have—reject the first 37 percent of them and then pick the next person who beats out every person who came before them.”
“Is that settling? That sounds like you’re picking the best.”
Her head tilted and the ends of her hair swung. “It’s more advice for people who are looking for perfection. For people who are wondering if the next person they date will be the one. And the next, and the next, and never able to commit.”
Oof. Marsie’s words hit a little too close to home there. What she said almost exactly echoed what Allison had said about him on their date. But, no, he wasn’t always looking at the horizon for better landscapes. His quest was different. He was waiting for the spark. The sizzle. The love his parents had had. That was different from looking for someone better.
It was looking for someone.
The doors opened, and they stepped out into the comparative brightness and noise of the lobby. The cafeteria served several companies from a couple different buildings, so it had several different rhythms. Judging by the badges, there were a bunch of people from one of the tech companies coming for coffee right now.
“We really should be online dating buddies. We’d be good for each other,” he said.
“You’ve dated more than me and are a dude, so I can see why your perspective might help me. But I’m not qualified to tell you what women think, unless you want a researcher’s answer.”
“I want a researcher’s answer. That math reasoning made me think. Made me question myself. I...” He paused, then nodded as he rethought about what she’d said, but still came to the same conclusion. “I still think I’m right, but it’s not good to get too cozy in your own assumptions. You challenge mine and I’ll challenge yours.”
They got in line behind a group of guys, and he tapped her with his elbow. “I’ll help you pick out an outfit from that selection of date clothes you’ve got in your office.”
To his surprise, her blush was deeper at the mention of those clothes than it had been about her smarts. “Are they not good?”
“You always look nice.”
“Yeah. At my last date, I felt out of place in my work clothes.”
“I have date clothes in my car, too. I can’t show up to a date in this, either.” He gestured to his work clothes. The knees of his cargo pants had a couple oil spots.
She looked shyly behind him, almost coy, which he didn’t think was possible. “I have extra outfits in my office so I can be spontaneous and go on a date that’s not on my schedule. Like you said.”
“See!” He nudged her gently with his elbow again. “Let’s be online dating buddies. I can help you and you can help me. We’d be a perfect match.”
She was still looking over her shoulder when she smiled, highlighting the rise of her cheeks and adding a twinkle to her eye. Coy was too sweet of a word for her. Astute. The word came out from the depths of some school vocabulary test. And pretty. As he’d thought while standing at her office door, she looked smart, and that was part of her prettiness.
“Okay. You talked me into it.” She was too busy adding a gallon of milk and all the sugar from the Caribbean to her coffee to look at him.
Talked me into it. He had to laugh. If he wasn’t full of confidence, being around her would make him deflate like a balloon. Which had probably been her date’s problem. He’d taken one look at her, realized that she was smarter than he was, better looking and made more money. Jason guessed the only thing left for that man’s ego was try to win by being the bigger gorilla.
No man would win Marsie over by beating his chest.
“When’s your next date?” he asked, pulling a cup from the stack and filling it with coffee.
“Um, Sunday. The guy and I are meeting for coffee,” she said, still stirring the contents of her cup. It always took her several minutes to stir her coffee, and he wasn’t certain she ever got all the sugar dissolved.
“Mine’s Sunday, too. Drinks at like five or so. I think I’m probably the last in a series of three dates, but I won’t judge, I’ve done it myself.”
She stopped the cup halfway to her lips. “You’ve had three dates in one day?”
“I’ve left one date that was going pretty well so that I wouldn’t be late to another one.”
“Huh. The thought of having three dates in one week leaves me exhausted. Like completely wiped out.” She stopped at the lines to the cash registers, then went to the one with the longest line, because that was the woman whose daughter Marsie had helped get into college. Coming down to the cafeteria with Marsie was always fun.
He came down and chatted with all the people who worked here. They shared a common sense of being blue-collar in white-collar business. They joked, and he shook hands with some of the guys. But when Marsie talked with some of the women, she softened.
Or, no, that wasn’t right. Marsie was still sharp, but her sharp points sparkled in the light. More diamond than blade. She didn’t rush through with jokes, but stopped to talk to the people she knew, ask about their families and share a little bit of herself. Never intrusive, but a care deep enough to move mountains.
As usual, he stood back to watch. Also as usual, their conversation resumed after they’d both paid and she could give him her full attention.
“How do we go about being online dating buddies?” she asked.
“Let’s meet Monday after work. There’s a Cuban restaurant near the Park. Their food’s pretty good. And their beer
selection is all right.”
“It’s like a date to talk about our dates,” she said, smiling as she pressed the elevator button.
“Right.” A date with Marsie. That was a funny thought. He liked her. He thought she was pretty, but there was no spark.
Though he was beginning to wonder if he’d be able to find the spark with anyone.
“I’ve got a meeting in a couple minutes on two, so I’m going to get off there rather than head back to my office,” she said, completely unaware that he was adrift in the sea of dating.
“No problem. Anything you need me to take to your office?”
“No, but thanks.” The doors to the elevator opened, and they stepped in.
At least they were adrift together.
CHAPTER EIGHT
AFTER SHE SAT down at the table, latte cup warming her hands, Marsie noticed her date had the most beautiful eyes. They were big and round and dark. He had the same nice smile from his profile picture. And nicely shaped fingernails.
“Thanks for meeting me for coffee over on this side of town,” her date, Trevor, said. “I’ve got to be at work in a couple hours. I’ll need the caffeine.”
“You’re an emergency room doctor, right?” Trevor—BigPappi82 in his profile—had scored a 90 upon first pass, which was off the charts. She had known, theoretically, that someone could score so highly in their profile, without needing an email conversation boost, but hadn’t expected it to happen. Judging by his profile alone, he was worth driving across town for.
“Right. Got the scrubs in the car. They’re not really date worthy.”
“No, they’re not,” she agreed. “But I always like watching those hospital shows on TV, so it would’ve been okay.”
He was wearing a white button-down and slacks, all of which looked nice on him. But she’d bet the traditional blue scrubs looked nice on him, too. In his pictures, his dark skin had made all the colors of his clothes pop. He probably looked nice in most things.
Then she chuckled, and he looked curiously at her. “I’m not laughing at you, but at a similarity. On the past couple dates I’ve been on, I’ve felt out of place in my work clothes. So I have date outfits hanging in my office now.”
“You do research, right? What are your work clothes like?”
She took a sip of her latte and lowered her mug. “Nothing special. Not a uniform, like you have, but I like to wear suits while at work. Which makes me the most formal-looking person at happy hour.”
“I’ll bet you look nice.” He smiled at her, and she waited for butterflies. Or a tingle. Or the desire to lean into his space. Something like she felt when she was with Jason.
On the computer screen, Trevor was perfect. There was no way Jason could score 90 in her algorithm. Not that she would ever score Jason. He was her friend, not a prospective date.
She and Trevor fell into an easy conversation, talking about work and years in schooling and travel and the books they’d read until his phone buzzed. He started, then reached, flipped his phone over on the table so they could see the time.
“Sorry about that,” he said, swiping the alarm off. “I set an alarm for when I needed to leave for work. You know, in case this date went so well that we lost track of time. I’m always hopeful.” He looked a little embarrassed to have been caught being optimistic.
“It’s cute. And it’s something I would do.” She crumpled her napkin and pushed back from the table, pausing before reaching for her cup and saucer.
Not once did warmth at how cute the alarm was flood her. It was like looking at something overwhelming happen to someone else on television.
“Should we see each other again?” he asked as they walked to the bussing station. “I mean, I know I’d like a second date.”
“Yeah,” she said. “That would be nice.”
They hugged at the door to the coffee shop. It was nice. A bit like hugging Beck, but nice.
“I’ll text you about setting up another date. Won’t be until my shift is over and I’ve had a good nap, but I won’t forget. We seem compatible.”
Compatible was not an exciting word, and it fell flat on her ears, but she didn’t have an argument against it. They did seem compatible, which was better than anyone else she’d been on a date with so far. “Sure. Have a good shift. I wish you peace and quiet.”
“Durham on a Sunday night is a toss-up, but I appreciate the thoughts.”
With a wave, he walked off to his car. She watched him go.
Compatible. Not sexy, but good enough for a second date, right? Though she’d hoped for more. Trevor was so perfect.
On paper.
* * *
JASON SLID INTO one of the chairs lined up auditorium-style in the building’s largest conference room. It didn’t fit all the company’s employees, which meant it was always interesting to see who came to the live this-is-the-company report and who watched it on WebEx. He’d been with the company long enough to know that it wasn’t the same crowd every time—and that it wasn’t just the new people who showed up, thinking they had to be seen in person.
There were people like Jason, who came every time. He sat in the back and smiled at each and every person who came by. He came because he wanted people to see him and because the first time he’d come, at least five people walked up to him and told him about a building problem they had that they hadn’t reported before.
The heads of all the divisions always attended and—from what he could tell—they came for the same reasons that he came, to see, be seen, and look casually approachable to people who had problems they didn’t feel comfortable making a formal report about.
Sometimes, when there was an open position, he could tell who was jockeying for it. And there was always a cohort of people from one division attending the meeting in a chattering, worried clump.
“Hey,” a soft voice said as a body slid into the seat next to him.
He turned. “Hey,” he said to Marsie, who, as far as he knew, hadn’t ever come to one of these things. He’d heard once that she hadn’t even come when she was new to the company and trying to figure out the rules.
Like all things with Marsie, there were both critical and generous judgments about why. And, like all things with Marsie, the truth about why she never came was probably both simpler and more complicated—and even the people who thought they were being generous were way off base to the critical side.
“What are you doing here?”
She shifted in her seat, revealing the white piping around a pocket on her hip. He couldn’t tell if she was wearing a dress that looked like a skirt and short jacket or a short jacket and skirt that looked like a dress, but it was navy with white piping, had a slight sailor collar and a fat belt, and she looked cute.
“I was talking with Roberto in the hall.” She sighed. “I’d forgotten about this meeting. He started walking. I followed because we were talking about the grant application and I wanted to hear what he had to say. Then we popped through the conference-room doors and I remembered. It was too late then to back out and watch this on my computer.”
Jason snorted at how put out she sounded.
“Hey, now,” she said, her indignation clearly faked. “I was tricked into coming.”
“Yes, and it’s tragic,” he said, faking his sympathy in return.
Even though she was trying to hide it, she smiled. “Well, I’m here. There are a couple people I need to talk to. Maybe I’ll catch them afterward.”
“Like me, so you can tell me about your date.”
Her head whipped around. And he smiled when she looked left and right, to check if anyone had heard. “I’m not going to talk about that now. Not here. There are too many people listening.”
He raised his brows at her. Then he leaned forward, exaggerating the way he looked aro
und and examined people to see if they had heard. “Nah, no one is paying attention.”
Only when he was sitting back up straight did something else occur to him. “We’ve talked about your dating in the cafeteria. How was that less public?”
“There was all that ambient noise and it’s the cafeteria, so...” She trailed off, her back stiffening. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Okay,” he said, backing off. “Clearly it matters to you, so we don’t have to talk about your date here. Besides, we made dinner plans to talk about dating. I’ll save my questions until then.”
His easy response seemed to deflate her indignation. “Thanks. And I’m sorry about being so uptight about this. That conversation with Roberto was...annoying. Even more annoying that I feel tricked into being here. I hate these things.”
“Really? Why? I mean, you’ve been mentioned several years in a row for your excellent work.” Every year, even though he knew she wouldn’t be here, he looked around for her after her name was mentioned. And he usually went up to her office to congratulate her after.
“Yeah. And I hate that. I really hate all the people coming up to me after. I can never tell if people are sincere.”
“Why would people not be sincere?”
She shrugged. “It’s probably nothing here, but in college and graduate school a lot of the ‘Good job’ comments were laced with poison, like I didn’t deserve the journal article or conference presentation.”
“Hmm... Okay. I mean, people are people. There are shits everywhere, so it doesn’t surprise me that people will do that.”
“Oh, yeah. And academia is the worst. So much politicking and backbiting. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t try to become a professor. Plus, at a place like this, I get to see more immediate real-world implications of my research. And that’s pretty cool.”
The suits at the front of the room stood, and the energy of the room changed from interested chatter to buzzed quiet. The firm had had a good year, and many of their projects had been in the news. That usually translated into a good state of the company report, but this was also the meeting when they announced changes to company health care and retirement plans. Having researchers who studied health-care costs didn’t make them immune to regularly rising costs.
Dating by Numbers Page 7
