“I realized early that being a success in the business world and being accepted in the social one were two different things,” Ron was saying over dinner at one of his private clubs. “I signed up for every art and music class I could fit into my schedule. I even went to a couple of ballets.” He made a face. “I can’t say I enjoy men in pants so tight it makes me uncomfortable just to watch them, but I like opera. I don’t even care if the soprano is twice as big and three times as old as the heroine is supposed to be. I just get angry when they go for a high note and can’t reach it. You’d think they wouldn’t give the part to someone who can’t sing the notes.”
He’d gone from Harry Potter to sports—the University of North Carolina, her alma mater, had just won the national soccer title—to opera. They’d discussed city planning when he said he wished she could get the city fathers to establish more parks. He said people in the inner city needed places for picnics and family gatherings, not just soccer fields, bike trails and ponds for ducks and geese. He was also in favor of preserving more trees, establishing deeper green belts around lakes and rivers, and improving public transportation.
Two things they didn’t discuss were his job and hers.
“I can’t believe you studied all those things just so you could talk to rich people at parties.”
He laughed as if she’d made a joke. She didn’t know more than a dozen men who could talk about anything remotely cultural. Most didn’t consider it something a man needed to know. Like religion and table manners, culture was left to their wives.
“There’s a lot more to business than just knowing how to do your job. Besides, I found I liked learning about all those things. It rounded me off, gave me that finish only a certain kind of education and lifestyle can give you. And as I said, I like the Impressionists, opera and Greek myths. I also like horse racing, but I can’t afford that.”
The more he talked, the more she realized she’d underestimated him, the more she started to feel he probably knew more about everything than she did.
“What do you do for fun?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“Everybody has something they do when they want to let their hair down.”
“I don’t have time. In my business if you don’t work all the time, somebody passes you.”
“You’ll go crazy.”
“Not if you like your work. The pressure can be intense and the hours long, but I like challenges, pitting myself against the other guy.”
“That sounds primitive.”
“It is. Instead of doing it with rocks and spears, we do it with computers and leveraged buyouts. But there are some things I don’t like. I hate golf. It’s a boring game, but every executive in the world seems to play. I find eating endless meals at high-priced restaurants or tedious dinner parties a waste of time. And I have little appreciation for fine wines or aged whiskey.”
Now it was her turn to laugh. “I’m surprised they haven’t thrown you out of the country club.” She nearly swallowed her words. Did he belong to any country clubs? Some discriminated for the most ridiculous reasons.
“Not yet, but I don’t go often enough to offend anyone. Belonging to the right club is part of business in Europe. You’ve got to be the right sort before they’ll touch your money.”
He said it all as if it didn’t matter, but she could feel the undertone of resentment. He wasn’t accepted by the people who mattered, even though he’d accomplished more than they had. He’d accepted it as a fact of life, but it was something he wouldn’t—couldn’t—accept for his daughter.
“Now tell me something about yourself,” Ron said. “I find it hard to understand why a pretty woman like you isn’t married with her own children.”
“Is that the only thing you think women are good for, being wives and mothers?” She hadn’t expected that of him, but wasn’t it what he’d done in his own life, left his wife home to take care of the baby while he roamed the world? That’s what her father thought, and just about every other man she knew.
“I’ve come up against too many tough women across the board table to think that,” Ron said. “You’re clearly not interested in a career unless you consider taking care of other people’s children a career.”
“I think of it as a vocation.”
“I think of it as an avocation, something so important you’ll continue to be involved in it but not your main goal in life.”
That’s something else all men seemed to have in common, a certainty they knew what a woman was thinking. She didn’t know which male gene made them feel infallible, but she hoped medical science would soon find a way to eradicate it. It was time men realized they were no more talented or gifted than women, only bigger and often stronger. And the need for bigger and stronger had vanished centuries ago.
“What is my main goal?” She was curious to know what he thought.
“I don’t know. That’s why I asked you. Do you have anything against marriage, or do you just dislike men in general?”
He was clever enough to know he’d taken a wrong step. “I have nothing against marriage or men. I probably would have been married ten years ago if I’d found the right man.”
“Then you should be going out every night, leaving those girls to Ruby. She looks more than capable of handling any trouble.”
“Ruby is absolutely wonderful, but she likes to go to bed early.”
“Then hire one of your experts.”
“I do. I not only date, but I enjoy all the ordinary social activities normal for someone my age.”
“Like what? You avoid your family.”
“Not all the time.”
“And you stopped running and playing tennis because you couldn’t afford to take the time away from the girls. You stopped going to the opera or the symphony because the men you dated didn’t know enough to be able to discuss what they’d heard, and you don’t like professional football, basketball, soccer or hockey because they’re loud and too violent. I won’t even ask about stock car racing. I can’t see you with that crowd.”
“You make me sound like an unbearable snob.”
“No, you make yourself look like a woman who’s cut herself off from the rest of the world. You’re young, beautiful, wealthy, intelligent, good company and you have a sense of humor when you let yourself relax. You’ve got more going for you than ninety-nine out of a hundred women, so why aren’t you out there having the time of your life?”
“You’ve known me for less than two days. What do you think gives you the right to ask such a question?”
“Nothing gives me the right unless it’s that I’m interested in you. I even like you. I sure as hell know you’re sexy. I’m surprised you don’t have to station Ruby at the door to drive off dates so overcome by your body they forget themselves on the front porch.”
She had dated a lot of men, but never one who could segue so smoothly from fine arts to flattery to sexual attraction.
“I’ve never been attacked on the front porch or anywhere else.”
“What kind of men do you go out with? They can’t have an ounce of red blood in their bodies. Or do you give them an injection that renders them harmless for the next four hours.”
She smiled. “No. I interview them first. That’s why I don’t end up with the wrong kind of man.”
He looked at her as if she were crazy. “You interview them?”
“Yes.”
“And they submit to this?”
She began to feel uncomfortable. Some of the men had reacted very unpleasantly. They had been even more rude about her choice of questions, but she refused to give an inch. She wasn’t going to end up like her mother. “Not all of them, but enough.”
“Holy hell! I can hardly wait to know what you ask them.”
Chapter Five
Kathryn had never been reluctant to ask her questions, yet she found herself searching for a reason to turn the conversation to a different subject. “They’re only for men looking for a serious
relationship with me.”
“Assume I’d like to have a serious relationship with you.”
Kathryn had memorized her list long ago, but at that moment every item on it flew out of her head. He was the father of one of her girls. He was everything she’d argued against her entire life. There was no denying the sexual attraction between them—she could feel it even at this moment—but he had to know she wouldn’t consider him as a possible candidate for a serious relationship, certainly not one that could result in marriage.
“I don’t know why you’d make such a joke, but I don’t consider it very funny.”
“Who said anything about jokes? I’m no different from any other man. I’m attracted to beautiful, sexy women. You have this sleek, elegant, stylishly cool look, but I get the feeling a cauldron of hot emotions is seething just below the surface.”
“You’ve been watching too many operas.”
“You’re rigid in your ideas. This indicates even more strong emotions. People only fight hard about things that are important to them.”
“I see you include pop psychology in your repertoire.” She was beginning to get irritated.
“I find you extremely interesting. No good reason, I just do. I guess you might call that chemistry.”
Now he was telling her he liked her against reason. While he was taking all of those classes to round out his education, he should have taken one to teach him what not to say to women.
“In case you’re interested, you’re failing my preliminary test so badly I wouldn’t even consider asking you the questions.”
He laughed and looked at his watch. “We’ve got to go. My plane should be almost ready.”
“You go on. I’ll catch a cab.”
“Not on your life.” He put several bills on the table and got up. “Come on. You’ve got to tell me how to pass your preliminary test. I’m anxious to get to those questions.”
They talked about his trip while they waited for his limousine. She was surprised he still meant to fly back to Charlotte after the next meeting. He would be gone for just one day.
“You won’t get any time to rest.”
She didn’t know why she was worried about him getting enough sleep. He was a grown man. He didn’t need her to tell him when to go to bed.
“I can sleep on a plane. In a taxi, too. The only thing that bothers me is jet lag. I can’t ever seem to adjust to the change in time.”
They had started on a meaningless discussion of ways to combat jet lag when they got into the limousine. He slammed the door on the limousine as well as on their conversation.
“Now tell me how to pass this test of yours.”
Okay he asked for it. “To begin with, never tell a woman you’re interested in her in spite of yourself.”
“I didn’t say that. I meant I don’t know what it is about you that appeals to me so much. But it’s early days. I’ll figure it out.”
“And no woman wants to be told she’s so sexy men lose control over themselves.”
“Bull. Every woman likes to think she has that effect on men. She may not want it to happen, but she likes to think it could.”
“Well I don’t.”
“Okay, you’re an exception. What else?”
“She doesn’t want a man to tell her he knows her better than she knows herself.”
“I never said that.”
“You said I was a mass of seething emotions.”
“Hell, everybody’s a mass of emotions. If they don’t seethe, you might as well be dead.”
She was getting uneasy. He was knocking over all her objections. “And we don’t like to be told things we do are unimportant.”
“You don’t like me calling your home for wayward girls an avocation?”
“They’re not wayward. They’ve just made a mistake.”
“Okay, I withdraw the wayward part, but I stick to it being your avocation. Lots of people are more devoted to their avocations than their vocations. It just depends on how their life falls out.”
“It’s more than an avocation.”
“If you got married and had children, would you give it up?”
“No.”
“If it came to a choice between the shelter and your family, would you give it up?”
“If it comes to a choice between Cynthia and your job, will you give it up?”
“I asked you first. And before you say I’m not playing fair, I’ll remind you I’ve missed two days of crucial meetings.”
She didn’t know why she had to keep reminding herself he had left his meeting, that he had spent most of the day trying to figure out what he needed to do to reach a better understanding with his daughter. He was leaving for Geneva in an hour, but he was coming back at the end of the meeting. At least he said he was. That’s more than she’d expected. And whether she wanted to admit it or not, it had changed her opinion of him. Maybe that’s why she’d agreed to come out with him tonight. He was proving he wasn’t the kind of man she’d thought.
She wouldn’t allow herself to ask if he might turn out to be the kind of man she wanted him to be. She wouldn’t allow herself to want anything when it came to Ron Egan. He was much too dangerous.
“I can’t answer for sure,” she said. “I guess I’d give up the shelter, but I’d make sure it stayed open.”
“You don’t sound very sure. Not a very good recommendation for your feelings about the importance of family.”
“It’s hard to be convincing about a hypothetical situation.”
“You don’t think it could still happen?”
Did she? She had become very cynical about men. Most who were too rich were playboys. Those that were too poor were fortune hunters or were so ambitious they felt work and success were more important than family. If she did marry, it would have to be to a man who had the same or very similar values to her own.
Did she think she would find him? She didn’t know. Her last dates hadn’t encouraged her to be optimistic. She’d enjoyed her time with Ron more than time spent with any man she’d dated in years, and he was the opposite of everything she wanted. At least that’s how it had seemed at first, and she was inclined to stick with her first impression, especially since Ron’s charm and sexual pull on her were affecting her judgment.
“I believe I’ll get married,” she said, “and not because I’m so desperate I have to lower my standards.”
“Who said you were desperate? I bet you didn’t like that very much.”
“Would you?”
“I’ve been desperate and survived, so it wouldn’t bother me. You never have. I think it might scare you.”
“It made me mad.” At first. She’d started to feel afraid later. Was she being too rigid in her standards, too demanding in her expectations? Was she overestimating her own value?
“I expect it did. Who said it?”
“A very successful attorney who thought my family connections were just what he needed to turn his law career into a political success. He decided I’d be a perfect political hostess.” She didn’t know why she was telling Ron all of this. She hadn’t told anyone, not even her sister.
“He was right. He just wasn’t smart enough to see you didn’t want to be judged on your suitability for his career plans. The right man would want to marry you even if you were exactly the wrong kind of wife for him.”
“I wouldn’t want anybody to marry me if I was wrong for him.”
“You know what I meant.”
She did, and she was surprised he would say something like that.
“You didn’t expect me to say that, did you?”
She wished the interior of the limousine wasn’t so well lit. Nothing in his words or his tone of voice implied it, but she could tell he was disappointed in her.
“No, I didn’t, but I should have.”
She could tell her answer, or her honesty, caught him by surprise.
“Why?”
“I didn’t stop to realize you’d probably been treate
d like that many times by people who didn’t consider you in their class but were willing to work with you because you could be useful to them.”
“It’s happened a few times, but I was using them just as much as they were using me.”
She didn’t know if he really believed what he said, but he would never have held on to that rusty trailer if slights and snobbish treatment weren’t important to him. He wanted to remember what it felt like to be powerless, to be treated like a nobody, to be passed over for people who were much less capable.
“I never thought of it like that,” she said. “I guess we all use people.”
“The trick is to be fair about it. Now, I want to hear those questions. You’ve stalled long enough.”
“There’s no point. Half of them don’t apply to you, or I already know the answers.”
“Such as?”
“Have you been married before and how many times? How did your last relationship end? Have you ever gotten a woman pregnant? Do you have any children? How often do you call your mother? You can’t answer that because she died years ago.”
“I’d probably call her every couple of weeks.”
Right in the middle of the acceptable range. “How often do you clean your own bathroom? But that doesn’t apply either because you have a maid.”
“I didn’t always?”
“Okay how often did you clean your bathroom when you were in college?”
“I didn’t. I lived in a dorm. And we had a communal bathroom.”
“At Harvard and Yale?”
“I was a scholarship student, remember.”
“Okay, how often did you clean your room?”
“I cleaned my half every week. My roommate only tackled his when he went home on vacation and had to pack up all his dirty clothes for the maids to wash.”
Okay, he probably wouldn’t leave his underwear on the bathroom floor, but he wouldn’t complain if she dried her panty hose on the towel rack.
“Do you have any vices? What’s your favorite one?”
Ron laughed. “I don’t have time for vices. I work all the time, but you probably consider that a vice.”
“What’s your favorite female body part and why?”
Family Merger Page 6