She was staring at him, a flicker of fright in the depths of her eyes.
He casually made mention of a recent movie. It was an easy matter to slide into safe, conversational waters. He did it deliberately, not only to draw her out but to persuade her to feel more comfortable with him. He wanted her relaxed and off guard.
Their dinner was brought to the table. She had chosen a seafood entrée, so Michael had requested a good white wine to accompany her meal. While they ate, he made certain that her wine glass was always full. He would take any advantage, including encouraging her to become tipsy. He watched her while they conversed over dinner. She did not appear to notice how many times that he topped off her glass. He was a cold-hearted bastard. Of course he was. That’s what made him so good at business. He found the weakness and exploited it.
He wanted her. It was business. It was as simple as that. If she declined his offer, he’d see that she got home safely in a cab. He wouldn’t be responsible for letting her drive home inebriated.
It gradually occurred to Cathy that she was enjoying herself. Once she had gotten over her initial and intense discomfort, the evening had swiftly become companionable. It was a relief not to have to talk about her life. She felt a swift arrow of guilt. It wasn’t her daughter that she wanted to forget. Never that. Instead, it was the awful, unremitting, unthinkable circumstances of their lives that she wanted to put out of her mind. She pushed away the bleakness and refocused on her dinner companion, wanting to pretend for just a little while that everything was fine. She sipped a little more wine, aware of a pleasant buzz beginning to soften the edges of what remained of her former tension.
She listened as Michael talked briefly about his work and in greater detail about his travels, about the music that he enjoyed and the books that he had read. He invited her to share her own experiences and opinions. Even though she laughed or made an appropriate remark, Cathy felt embarrassment grow within her as it become more and more apparent to her how little she had to contribute. For longer than she cared to recall, her life had revolved around hospitals. Her reading was confined to medical journals and work-related subjects. She did not remember the last time that she had turned on the radio just to listen to music. Dining out like this was a rarity. It had been ages since she had ordered anything like the delicious shrimp scampi that she was consuming tonight. I must be boring him to death .She was abruptly reminded that it was not her mind that this man was interested in.
“Winter, do you find me at all attractive?”
She stared at him, completely taken aback by the unexpected question. He was sitting quite at ease, half-turned in his chair with one arm laid negligently on the table. The almost-empty wine glass dangled from his hand. There was only polite inquiry reflected in his face. Her thought processes were incoherent. She felt a faint throbbing begin at her temples. She couldn’t seem to find her tongue.
As the awkward moment lengthened, the cool expression in his eyes turned quizzical. “It’s not a trick question, Winter.”
“No, of course it isn’t. I just never – it didn’t occur to me that—”
“That I’d prefer to be with someone who found me marginally interesting?” Michael’s sarcasm was palpable. “There should be some chemistry, Winter.”
She was not offended by his tone, she found. It was a valid point. She just hadn’t given any thought to it. “Of course. That makes sense. When there is nothing else to base a relationship on, physical attraction becomes the only real criteria that can be used.”