Looking Inside
Page 67
He saw her throat convulse as she swallowed.
“Usually, when I find out that a woman is a liar, it turns me off. I can’t see her in the same light. But maybe that is an excuse for me to bail.”
“I hardly think you needed an excuse to cut all ties, in Jamie’s case.”
“Yeah, but Jamie was the exception. Most women aren’t that blatant. Like I said before, maybe I’m the one who is encouraging them to be underhanded, because I’m too distracted by other things. Eleanor? What’s wrong?” he demanded when she made a face he couldn’t quite interpret.
“So you want a woman to be completely honest about her motivations. If she told you up front that she wanted a serious, long-term, monogamous relationship with you, you’d be happy about it?”
“You and my brother should get together. He told me something similar yesterday. No, like I’ve said. I’m willing to take some of the blame. Maybe I should just accept that all I’m interested in is sex when it comes to women.” He paused. “But the thing is,” he added slowly, “I’d be lying.”
“You would be?” she asked in a hushed tone.
He grimaced. “A few months ago, my human resources manager had one of those inspirational speakers come in for a day seminar for the staff. I popped in for a few hours of her talk in the afternoon. For a motivational exercise, she was having people write out two versions of their obituaries.”
“Obituaries?”
“Yeah. One version was supposed to be what it might read like if you died today. The other version is what you hoped it would be ideally.”
“That sounds like it could be pretty interesting.”
“It was pretty enlightening, that’s for sure. For one thing, it annoyed the crap out of me.”
Her eyebrows arched in a question.
“I couldn’t sleep because I kept thinking about it. The thing was, in the professional arena, I was right where I wanted to be. No regrets.”
“You’re light-years beyond most people your age in that arena,” she said.
“Thanks. But my point is, in the personal and family categories, I was pretty damn skimpy. It just brought it all home. I do want what my parents have, and what my sister and my brother-in-law have. Someday. Actually, I was relieved as hell when I heard Kevin had fallen hard for someone last night. I was beginning to wonder if the male Riordans in this generation were born with a faulty gene or something.”
She’d set down her fork. She was listening to him with focused intent, her eyes shimmering in the soft lighting. “And that’s definitely what you want too?”
“I’ve started to think so, anyway,” he admitted honestly. “I just don’t know how to go about achieving it. I’m not so sure I get what women want. Or worse, if I’m remotely able to give it. That’s what I was trying to figure out when I went off dating. And yet here we sit.”
She started slightly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged. “I was just thinking before, this feels an awful lot like a date. Dinner. Wine. Conversation. Candlelight. Is that okay with you?” he asked her, studying her reaction closely.
“Of course.”
“Because . . . that’s not what we specified from the first, is it?”
“No, it’s not,” she agreed, sounding breathless. He’d pushed her too far. She was going along with the conversation, but he was definitely making her nervous.
“Jesus, we’re a pair,” he muttered under his breath.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure if I’ve got what it takes for the long haul and you prefer things at a safe distance. Like—from a building away?”
She dropped her hand on the table with a thump. “Is that what you think? That I enjoy”—she hesitated—“exhibitionism because I’m afraid of being close to someone?”
“The thought has occurred,” he replied bluntly. He felt a little guilty at her stunned—or was it hurt?—expression. “Don’t look like that, Eleanor. So what if we have intimacy issues? They say most of the population does.”
Her lips parted in amazement. “Intimacy issues? Me? I don’t have intimacy issues.”