I frowned at her sudden defensiveness. “That’s not what I was gonna say at all. In fact, the whole ‘girls don’t do well at math’ thing is a form of cognitive bias.” She wore an interested expression so I explained further. “If you tell someone that the majority of people fail a certain subject, then that person is already more likely to fail because the idea has been planted in their noggin. It’s what they call a stereotype threat. There’s this study I read about once, where they took two groups of men and women and gave them a math test. The first group was told that men usually outperform women in the test, and the second was told that both genders typically performed equally well. You wanna guess what the outcome was?”
Janie’s eyes lit up. “The women performed worse in the first group and better in the second. I’ve read that paper. “Stereotype Threat and Women’s Math Performance” by Spencer, Steele and Quinn, 1998.”
She paused then, looking embarrassed that she knew all the specifics. I thought it was awesome. Shooting her a wide smile, I clinked my glass to hers, “See, I knew there was a reason I liked you.”
She glanced at the bar top. “I read. A lot. I read a lot of things.”
“Yeah? Me, too.”
For a second we just smiled at one another. Then Janie asked a question. Actually, she whispered it, first glancing from left to right as though someone might be listening in. “Are you a member of The Magic Circle?”
This surprised a laugh out of me. “You’ve heard of The Magic Circle?”
“Of course,” she answered like it was obvious. “I thought you must be a member since you won’t tell me all the reasons why I’m not suggestible enough for your tricks. Each member of the organization undertakes an oath not to reveal their magical secrets to anybody except for other members under pain of expulsion from the circle.”
“Where’d you hear that?” I grinned.
“I read it on Wikipedia,” she answered simply. “It all sounds very exciting, in my opinion, like Harry Potter or something. You should apply to join.”
“Nah, too much like a cult for my liking. Besides, I’m too cool for that shit. The circle is full of stuffy Brits.”
Janie giggled, a wide smile on her face. She was too fucking cute when she smiled like that. I leaned a little closer and elbowed her in the arm. “Hey, I know I said I wasn’t asking to get hitched, but you ever picture yourself marrying a guy from Boston?”
I know, I was a shameless flirt.
Janie inhaled a sharp breath and grew flustered as she straightened in her seat. “Um…I…I don’t think so.”
I lifted my beer and took a swig. “No?”
She shook her head, her gaze focused intently on her margarita now.
“Well, maybe it won’t be to me, but I can definitely see that for you. There’s a big, manly Bostonian in your future, Janie Morris, you mark my words.” I was teasing her now, but it was fun. I liked seeing her blush.
She shifted a little. “So, um, what’s your favorite cognitive bias?” she asked and I chuckled loudly.
“That your way of changing the subject, sweetheart?”
She didn’t answer my question, instead she kept on talking. “I think mine has to be the Dunning-Kruger effect.”
“Oh yeah?”
Janie nodded. “It relates to how the less we know about a certain topic or skill, the better we think we are at it. The more we learn about things, the more we realize just how little our knowledge base actually is. I find it fascinating. Like, you get all these teenagers playing video games set in warzones, and the games teach little to nothing about actual combat, yet you’ll get all these gamers going around thinking they could be real snipers, or dispose of bombs, or take down a terrorist organization. I remember when I used to spend the weekends playing Street Fighter when I was growing up. I actually felt a little like I could kick someone’s ass at the end. In reality all I was adept at was tapping buttons at an alarmingly speedy rate,” she finished.
“So, illusory superiority, right?”
“Right!” Janie exclaimed, a grin taking shape. “Now tell me yours.”
I rubbed at my chin, thinking about it. Seriously, I know I joked about it earlier, but what exactly would it take to get this woman to hitch a ride to Vegas with me and get married? What’s your favorite cognitive bias had to be the best conversation starter I’d come across in a while.
“You ever heard of the Just World Hypothesis?” I asked and Janie shook her head. “It’s like in the movies, where everyone always gets what they deserve in the end. People think that the world is ultimately just, so that when something bad happens we can say that person deserved it. That their previous actions were the cause and therefore they only got what was coming to them. In real life, though? Well, we’re all just a bunch of monkeys flinging our shit around and there’s no moral to the story. A lot of the time bad stuff happens for absolutely no reason at all.”
Suddenly I was staring glumly into my beer, realizing I’d just depressed the fuck out of myself, and probably Janie, too.
“Sorry. Now I’m making your fun margarita hour into dreary Tuesday.”
“No, no,” Janie was quick to reassure me. “I actually find you incredibly fascinating and engaging.” Right after she said it she clamped her hand over her mouth as though embarrassed. “Oh my God. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
I winked at her. “I thought you were too tall to get tipsy off one cocktail?”
“I’m not too big to admit I was wrong,” she responded with a self-deprecating smile.
“Will do you something for me?”
She eyed me curiously. “What?”
“Come see my show tonight.”
Janie glanced away and started rifling through her purse for something. “Uh, well, I have plans tonight. With the person,” she mumbled.
“The person?”
“With which I am involved. The boyfriend.”
“That’s cool. Bring him with you.”
“I don’t think…”
“Give me your number and I’ll text you the address,” I cut her off before she could finish.
“I don’t own a cell phone.”
“Why not?”
She stuck out her chin. “I don’t believe in them.”
God, this woman, could she be any cuter? “You know what, I’m gonna use that one sometime. I don’t own a car. Maybe if I go around telling everyone it’s because I don’t believe in them they’ll think I’m enlightened instead of broke as fuck.”
Janie barked a loud laugh and she slid a bill onto the counter. “I really do have to get back to work now,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes as I picked up the money and placed it carefully back her in hand. She jumped a little when my fingers brushed hers.
“Drink’s on me,” I told her.
We shared a look and then she withdrew her hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you…oh crappers, I just realized I don’t even know your name,” she said in horror, like she’d been incredibly rude not to ask.
I gave her a warm look. “My name’s Jay Fields, and it was a pleasure to meet you, too, Janie Morris.”
Her gaze drifted over my face, and for once I couldn’t tell what someone else was thinking. Maybe I’d been too distracted by all that gorgeous, curly red hair. It was twisted up in a bun and I was struck with the urge to see it down.
“You should wear your hair down. It’s too pretty to be up like that.”
The compliment made her blush again but she didn’t say anything, just ducked her head, gave me a final wave and made to leave. I’d moved fast, so she’d already gotten to the door by the time her bun unraveled. She paused midstride, glanced at the hair that had fallen around her shoulders and muttered to herself as she turned back to me, laughing. Sleight of hand could be useful for more than just magic sometimes.
I grinned and held up the hair tie for her to see. She shook her head again, shot me a parting smile, and went on her way.
Two
Janie
“So, he’s a magician?”
I nodded, glancing between the street map and the building’s address.
“Janie, if you had a phone you could just Google the address. Why don’t you just Google the address?”
“There is no accepted definition of the word ‘Google’ other than as an American multinational technology company specializing in Internet-related services and products. You want me to ‘American technology company’ an address? That makes no sense.”
“You know what I mean, smartass. I want you to do a search on the magical internets, on your cellphone—”
“I don’t have a cellphone, but you knew that. And there is no such thing as magic.”
“And yet, here we are. On our way to a magic show.” Marie shivered as a gust of wind had us stopping and bracing. We waited for it to pass before continuing.