“Well, no.” His eyes moved up and to the right. “The first time, she wasn’t free—or didn’t feel free, or maybe didn’t wish—to acknowledge me publicly.”
“Huh.” Well, that’s interesting. “And there were more? I mean, you’ve had more than one exclusive relationship?”
“Yes. I had an old lady once. I suppose you could say, dating”—he gestured between us with a finger—“like this isn’t part of our club’s culture. So, no. I never took her on a date.”
“So, just the two? Just the two relationships?”
“Just the two.”
“I see . . .” I nodded, frowning as I thought this over. “And were they very long? I mean, did they last a long time?”
“The first time, I fell hard at a very young age. I made no secret about it. She knew. We were only really together for a few months years later—when I was older but still young—and the end of that situation soured me for a long time.”
“And the second time?”
“Margaret, my old lady, and I were exclusive just a few months.”
My heart sunk and I nodded. I guess I’d been right, Jason was a skirt chaser. I wasn’t interested in developing feelings for a man accustomed to sleeping around as much as he liked.
Jason took a sip of his whiskey. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing.” I forced another smile. “I hope dinner is good.” And I hoped it would be short.
“That’s not the truth. There’s something bothering you.” His attention flickered over me. “What did I say?”
“It’s just—” I sighed. “Well, since we haven’t technically started, and first-date rules don’t apply, I guess I can tell you. The truth is, I don’t know if we’re compatible.”
“Really?” He looked surprised. “Why? Because I’ve been serious with two people, and you’ve been serious with just one?”
“No.” I fiddled with the silverware framing my plate. “It’s like I said at my house. I want a relationship, which—to me—means exclusivity. And it sounds like you’re not used to maintaining that kind of commitment for any length of time.” I shrugged, deciding to spell it out. “I have no interest in a skirt chaser.”
Jason looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or sneeze. “Diane, you think I’m a skirt chaser?”
“From the sound of things, you eschew long-term commitments. And, well . . .” I lifted a hand and gestured to him. He was just too beautiful and too skilled in the sack. Of course he was used to having his pick of ladies whenever he wanted.
He leaned forward in such a way that encouraged me to do the same, like he was about to tell me a secret. “Gorgeous, I am not, nor have I ever been, a ‘skirt chaser.’ I’m more of a . . .” He paused, his eyes narrowing just a bit, perhaps searching for the right word. “I’m more of a lone wolf. After Louisa, my priorities in life changed, and women in general didn’t hold much interest for me. So if you’re worried I’ll be stepping out on you, or that I’ve developed certain habits that’ll be difficult to break—don’t.”
I made no attempt to hide my examination of him. “You’re saying you’ve only been with two women?”
“No. If memory serves, there was that hot blonde last Christmas.” His eyes twinkled as he teased.
I squirmed, heat coming to my cheeks. “Fine. Three women.”
“I’ve had more than three sexual partners, if that’s what you’re really asking. But I’m also saying I have no habits.” Jason took another sip of his whiskey, essentially finishing it. “And I’ve never had any interest in pursuing more than woman at the same time. For the last twenty-two years, my focus and priorities have been otherwise engaged. Until very recently.”
“Are you saying you think we’re compatible?”
“In this regard, yes. I do,” he said matter-of-factly, like this subject was a box that had already been checked. “And for the record, I would not be happy if I discovered you were a pants-chaser, or kept someone else on the side. What I want from you is, as you say, exclusivity.”
Oddly, it was this last bit that convinced me, and I nodded slowly, feeling more buoyant. “Well, okay then. I guess we should get this first date started.”
“I am your ready student.”
I pressed my lips together to stem my smile. “We’ll see. So, some basics. First of all, on first dates, you should only talk about yourself in humble-bragging terms, never admitting to any flaw that doesn’t make you look better.”
“A flaw that makes me look better,” he deadpanned.
“Yes. If I’d asked you what your biggest flaw is, you’d say something like, ‘Oh, I just care too much.’” I lowered my voice to impersonate him, and this made amusement spark behind his eyes. “Or something like, ‘I’m too hard a worker, I’m too dedicated, I’m too honest.’”
“You want me to lie?”
“No.” I crossed my arms on the edge of the table, leaning forward. “I want you to find a way to talk about yourself—even your flaws—in the most flattering way possible, because that’s what folks do on first dates.”
His gaze lowered to my chest. “This sounds like a job interview.”
“Well, I suppose it is, in a way. We’re both interviewing for the job of being each other’s exclusive significant other and I think we’re at a bit of a disadvantage, because we know of each other—and that means we have preconceived notions—but we don’t really know each other.”
“Like you assuming I’m a skirt chaser.”
I squirmed again. “Well, yes. Like that exactly. And usually, if you present facts without finesse, then there isn’t likely to be another date.”
Eyebrow crooked, he peered at me steadily before saying, “All right. I’m willing.”
“Good.” That settled, I leaned back. “Now, Henry, what do you do for a living?”
He seemed to consider things for a moment, then said, “I’m in finance.”
“Oh, really?” I couldn’t stop my smile and my voice was high and squeaky with happiness. The fact that he’d decided to humor me gained him a point and gave me an odd thrill.
“That’s right,” he drawled. “How about you?”
“I work at a hotel.”
“Diane.” He fought a grin. Then he surrendered to the grin and chuckled.
“What?”
“You do not work at a hotel. You own one of the most prestigious destination resorts in the United States.”
I waved away his objection and picked up my cocktail for another sip, finishing it and taking note of the waiter’s approach. “Yes, but I can’t say that.”
“I thought you were supposed to present everything about yourself in the most flattering light possible.”
“That is correct, but I shouldn’t sound like I’m bragging. So, I tell a version of the truth that doesn’t make me look bad, but also doesn’t make me look unapproachable. This is especially true for women. There’s a reason why lady doctors have trouble making a love connection. Men are intimidated by success.”