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New York, Actually (From Manhattan with Love 4)

Page 27

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“She doesn’t drink coffee.”

Daniel started to laugh. “And he had to write to ask what he’d done wrong?”

“This is Max we’re talking about, so yes. He said that a coffee machine made him happy, and that she should be happy that he was happy. She didn’t see it that way. How he ever passed the bar I will never know.”

“As you say, he’s a brilliant lawyer and ferociously bright.”

“Not when it comes to women. Here.” She scrolled down. “Read. Not that you need any help with relationships.”

Ask a Girl.

The words were picked out in a bold blue.

Daniel frowned. “‘Ask a Girl’ what? What sort of things do people ask?”

“Anything. Everything. Her advice is honest and direct. She has a huge following.”

“So she really knows how to milk it.”

“She’s a businesswoman. She has a gift, and knowledge, and she uses it. It’s not like you to deride a woman for being smart.”

“I’m not deriding her for being smart. I’m deriding her for taking advantage of the vulnerable and giving dangerous advice.”

“That’s your opinion, Daniel. And although plenty of folks pay squillions of dollars an hour to hear your opinion, it doesn’t mean you’re always right on everything.”

“I’m right on this.”

“Her column is good. Interesting. I read it every week. We all do.”

“All?”

“All of the women here, and even some of the men. The blog is only part of it. She answers questions, and I think she offers one-to-one relationship counseling over the phone.”

Daniel scrolled through the pages of her website. “There’s no photo. What does she look like?”

“She never uses a photo. Just the heart logo.”

“So she doesn’t have a last name, and she won’t show her face. Anyone who won’t show their face must have a reason. Maybe she’s not a person. Maybe she’s a bunch of computer tech guys laughing their heads off.”

“No way would the advice she gives ever have been written by a guy.”

“That’s sexist.”

“It’s true,” she said drily. “Read for yourself.”

He read.

Dear Aggie, there’s a woman at work who is a goddess. I’m an ordinary guy, nothing special. How can a man like me ever attract the attention of someone like her? Am I wasting my time? Yours, Underconfident.

Daniel glanced up in disbelief. “This is a joke, yes?”

“It’s real.”

“And does she give an answer? Mine would be, yes, you’re wasting your time. Grow a spine.”

“Which is why you’re not the one answering the question. Not that I expect you to understand, but some men have trouble approaching women. They don’t all have your success rate.”

Daniel thought about the woman in the park. His success rate had taken a serious tumble. “Does she reply?”



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