“Before I answer any more questions, I want to see a lawyer,” I said, sitting back, and he laughed.
“Something told me you weren’t going to be dull.”
“You’re right there. I’ve been accused of lots of things but never of being dull.”
The waitress brought our cappuccinos.
“Thank you, Paula. So who are you?” he asked.
I sipped my cappuccino and looked at him. “Why is it so important for you to know?”
“I told you. I’m in the business of making discoveries.”
“Discoveries? Of what? Not baseball or basketball players. I have a terrible swing, don’t like all the spitting, and hate running up and down any court.”
He laughed and turned to look at the closest other customer to see if he was listening to our conversation. The other man turned away quickly.
“No, I’m not after sports possibilities. I look for beautiful young women who have a certain je ne sais quoi, a mysterious quality about them that makes them extra special. There are many beautiful young women in New York, but not all have that je ne sais quoi. Know what I mean?”
“Maybe. I certainly understand the expression and can understand why you might say that.” I knew that answer surprised him, but I wasn’t down on myself enough to believe that I wasn’t special. Besides, modesty always struck me as a weakness in this world.
He sipped his cappuccino and continued to study me.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” I said when he remained silent. “What is it you see in me—besides my French heritage, that is?”
“There’s a wisdom about you that one wouldn’t expect of someone your age, yet you don’t look that street-smart, either. In short, you have me intrigued.”
He continued to sip his cappuccino, and I sipped mine, neither of us shifting our eyes from the other. All sorts of suspicions, like sleeping snakes, began to raise their heads in my mind.
“You’re not going to show me some kind of badge any minute, are you?”
That brought real laughter from him. “Hardly,” he said, “although I have a badge to flash if I’m ever in trouble. It was a gift from a high-level government employee. You have nothing to fear about me on that score. In fact, you have nothing whatsoever to fear about talking to me.”
“Right. It’s very common for a man your age, dressed like you, to start a conversation with someone my age because she has a certain je ne sais quoi. I see it happening all over the city every day.”
He held his smile. It seemed that neither my sarcasm nor my indifference could discourage him. I noticed the expensive-looking diamond pinkie ring on his left hand, but I saw no wedding ring. I knew what a Rolex was, and what he was wearing did not look like a cheap imitation. Mama always told me to look at a man’s shoes first when assessing if he was authentic. Well-to-do men always had expensive shoes, and those shoes were always maintained well. His shoes didn’t exactly have the military shine, but they looked well cared for. He was exactly the sort of man I could imagine sitting in the shoe shiner’s chair in some subway station reading the Wall Street Journal.
“You are something else,” he said. “I knew it. Please, tell me about yourself.”
I finished my cappuccino but held the cup as I pondered whether I should stay or simply get up and leave without another word.
“I’m not a tourist. I’m not in college. I don’t work anywhere in the city. This isn’t really my neighborhood, okay? Satisfied? Did I earn my cappuccino?”
“Hardly satisfied,” he said. He tilted his head a bit as he took another long look at me. “Don’t tell me you’re in high school?”
“Okay, I won’t tell you.”
His eyes brightened and his lips softened. “You are, aren’t you?”
“Not at the moment and not in the immediate future.”
“Now I am intrigued. You either cut school or quit, right? Are you on your own?”
“Aren’t we all?”
“We don’t have to be,” he said.
“Oh.” I put my cup down. I thought I knew what that line meant, what he was leading up to. He had just taken a more circuitous route to get there. “Now I understand. I think it’s time for me to go.”