Lipstick Jungle

“Well, I . . .”

“Doesn’t it bother you, Selden? Don’t you find it . . . suspect?”

“If you put it that way . . .” he began.

“I do,” she said.

Selden fiddled with his straw. “You

should be doing great, Wendy. The Spotted Pig won two Oscars.”

“But not for Best Picture.”

“It was a comedy, Wendy,” Selden said patiently. “The last comedy that won Best Picture was Driving Miss Daisy. In the late eighties. You know how it works.”

“Yes, I do,” she said sharply. She caught herself. Why was she being so mean to Selden? Look at him, she thought, picking up her napkin. With his soft face and longish hair, he looked more like a college professor than a killer movie executive, which might be a deliberate attempt on his part to confuse his business associates as to his true nature. On the other hand, it could also mean that Selden Rose was simply just like everybody else and wanted to look younger. She could hardly believe that a year ago she’d found him scary. But maybe when your worst fears were realized, it put everything else into perspective.

I must call Nico and tell her about this Selden sighting, she thought.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, attempting a smile.

“I live around the corner. I come here every Sunday morning for breakfast,” he said. “I don’t mind being alone, except on Sunday mornings. There’s nothing more depressing than making eggs and bacon for yourself.” He smiled sweetly, as Wendy stared at his hair again. How had he gotten it so straight? She hoped he wasn’t ironing it.

“I’m sure you’d have no problem finding a girlfriend, Selden,” she said firmly, not about to be taken in by his lonely bachelor story. “You’re successful, you don’t have kids, you’re . . .” she paused, “attractive.”

“Do you think so?” he asked, seemingly genuinely pleased at the compliment. He handed her his menu. “You should try the cheese soufflé. It’s really good. Anyway, it’s not that easy,” he said casually, sitting back in his chair.

Wendy nodded, looking down at the menu. “The soufflé or the relationship?” she asked, hoping it was the soufflé. “Isn’t it too early in the morning to talk about relationships?” she said, handing the menu back to him.

“You’re right,” he said. “Let’s talk about you. What are you doing here, by the way?” he asked innocently. “Don’t you live farther uptown?”

“Now we’re talking about relationships again.”

“Are we?”

“Well, I live here now. That’s all,” she said. She looked around uncomfortably, feeling a twitter of sexual excitement. For some bizarre reason she was attracted to Selden Rose—and she just couldn’t help it. She crossed her legs, twisting one foot around the opposite ankle as if the gesture might contain her inappropriate desire.

“Really?” Selden asked. Was there an eagerness in his tone? Or was she imagining it? As if trying to monitor his own feelings, he frowned. “So it didn’t work out with your husband after all.”

“Nope.” She shook her head. “I suppose you were right all along. You said that once someone betrayed you, they would do it again.”

“I’m sorry for you, Wendy, if it makes you unhappy.” He paused, and then he said the most astounding thing. “But I’m pleased for me.”

She looked at him in shock. Had he really said that? She blushed, feeling suddenly giddy. He couldn’t have really meant what he’d just said. She’d better ignore it . . .

“I mean,” he said. “You probably wouldn’t want to, but I was thinking that maybe we could have dinner sometime.”

“You mean . . . ?”

“I mean like a date,” Selden said boldly. “I guess that’s what they still call it. Although it seems kind of funny, people our age going on a date.”

“Us?” she asked in horror. She hadn’t meant it to come out that way, but she was so surprised she didn’t know what she was saying. When was the last time a man had asked her out on a date? she wondered. Had it ever happened?

“If you don’t want to, I understand,” Selden said. “I mean, with us working together . . .”

If they went on a date, did it mean that they would sleep together? she wondered, the idea of it causing a fresh surge of excitement. But no, that came later. You weren’t supposed to have sex with people on the first date.

She felt a little dizzy. “Oh no, Selden,” she said, wanting to reassure him. “I mean, sure. I’d love to have dinner with you. I guess I can now. I don’t have my kids every day.”