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Quinn turned back. “UW–Madison, huh. What did you study?”
“Psychology.” He’d heard. Point in his favor. But if he stayed true to form, he wouldn’t want to talk to her much longer. She’d need to find out as much as she could, then find a graceful way to release him for the evening’s pursuit.
“What kind of dot-com does a psych major start up?”
“Milwaukeedates.com.” The familiar combination of pride and vulnerability flooded her. Pride at what she’d accomplished, vulnerability from many married years of being told she wouldn’t accomplish anything. “The city’s finest dating service. Are you single?”
If she could get him to sign up, it would be all the easier to send him on a date with Darcy. Once Darcy saw his picture—
well, who could say no to George Clooney?
“I am single, yes.” Bitterness tugged at his voice and the corners of his smile. Aha. Burned? That would explain the current trend of romantic channel-surfing. More importantly, it would mean he’d been able to love at least once, and could be able to do so again with the right woman.
“Are you interested in signing up? I screen all my clients personally.”
“So I’d be screened by you personally.” He quirked an eyebrow. “That sounds pretty tempting.”
She refused to blush this time. “I was referring to any woman you’d be dating, but yes, we’d have an appointment to talk before you could look over profiles.”
“Hmm.” He lifted his glass, looking at her over the rim as he drank. “Are you a client on the site?”
She wished he’d cut the reflex flirting; it was a waste of energy for both of them. “Of course not.”
“Too
bad.”
“I’m sure I could set you up successfully.” She sent him a saccharine grin, unable to resist a dig on behalf of women in their prime. “Though you seem to do fine on your own.”
He nearly spat out his sip. “You’ve been keeping track?”
She shrugged, hiding her satisfaction. So busted. “Analyzing male/female interaction is part of my job.”
“And what did your analysis of me reveal?”
That you can get laid as often as you want. “That women respond positively to your confidence and friendliness.”
“Hmm.” He obviously wasn’t sure what to make of a woman who was on to his tricks and didn’t fall for them. Which would describe Darcy, too. The key to hooking a guy like this was not to behave like all the other women he collected and threw out indiscriminately…to cover his pain? She still hoped that was the reason.
“In fact—” Marie gestured subtly to the women behind him, hiding her contempt this time “—feel free to attend to business now.”
His eyes narrowed. “What makes you think I’d rather talk to them?”
She laughed, trying not to sound bitter. Because they’re young and beautiful, I’m just this side of forty and you’re a man? “Just a hunch.”
“Au contraire. We’re both regulars, I’d like to get to know you.”
“That’s sweet.” She resisted rolling her eyes. Spare me the charity flirt, buddy. “I have to get going anyway. But it was nice to meet you.”
His smile was forced. “Nice to meet you, too, Marie. Hope to see you again.”
“I’m sure you will. Have a good night.” She threw money on the bar, grabbed her coat and hopped down from the stool, relieved to manage a graceful exit.
Outside the cold air felt wonderful on her overheated cheeks and she blew out a misty breath of release and relief, snuggling into her favorite red coat. The sky above was darkening to navy; fading light still glowed in the west. She forced herself to slow her steps and her need to put distance between herself and what had just happened as quickly as possible.
How long before the post-divorce emotions would leave her alone? Six years wasn’t long enough? Ironic if Candy got over her obsession with Drippy Chuck and into a new, healthy relationship before Marie could thoroughly process the betrayal and dissolution of her marriage. Apparently a degree in psychology didn’t guarantee you could find answers to all your issues.
