“When I’m traveling? No, I’m great company,” I answered promptly.

“I hate to admit it, but I’d agree with that,” he said, raising his mug in my direction.

I smiled and blushed slightly, hating myself as I did it. “Wow, are we becoming friends?” I asked.

“Hmm, friends…” He appeared to think carefully, examining me and my current state of blush. “Yes, I think we are.”

“Interesting. From cockblocker to friend. Not bad.” I giggled and clinked his mug with my own.

“Oh, it remains to be seen whether you’re lifted from cockblocker status yet,” he said.

“Well, just give me a heads up before Spanx comes over next time, okay, friend?” I laughed at his confused expression.

“Spanx?”

“Ah, yes, well, you know her as Katie.” I laughed.

He finally had the decency to blush and smile sheepishly. “Well, as it happens, Ms. Katie is no longer part of what you so kindly refer to as my harem.”

“Oh no! I liked her! Did you paddle her too hard?” I teased again, my giggling beginning to get out of control.

He ran his hands through his hair frantically. “I have to tell you, this is frankly the strangest conversation I’ve ever had with a woman.”

“I doubt that, but seriously, where did Katie go?”

He smiled quietly. “She met someone else and seems really happy. So we ended our physical relationship, of course, but she’s still a good friend.”

“Well, that’s good.” I nodded and was quiet a moment. “How does that work, actually?”

“How does what work?”

“Well, you have to admit, your relationships are unconventional at best. How do you do it? Keep everyone happy?” I prodded.

He laughed. “You’re not seriously asking how I satisfy these women, are you?” He grinned.

“Hell, no. I’ve heard how you do that! There doesn’t seem to be any question about that. I mean, how does no one get hurt?” He thought for a moment. “I guess because we were honest going into this. It isn’t like anyone sets out to create this little world, it just happens.

Katie and I had always gotten along great, especially in that way, so we just fell into that relationship.”

“I like Spanx—I mean Katie. So was she the first? In the harem?”

“Enough with the harem—you make it sound so sordid. Katie and I went to college together, tried dating for real, didn’t work out. She’s great though, she’s…wait, are you sure you want to hear all this?”

“Oh, I am all ears. I’ve been waiting to peel this onion since you first knocked that picture off my wall and clocked me on the head.” I smiled, settling back on the couch and curling my knees underneath me.

“I knocked a picture off your wall?” he asked, looking amused and proud at the same time. What a guy.

“Focus up, Simon. Gimme the skinny on your ladies in waiting. And spare no details—this shit is better than HBO.” He laughed and put on his storyteller face. “Well, okay, I guess it started with Katie. We didn’t work out as a couple, but when we ran into each other after college a few years ago, coffee turned into lunch, lunch turned into drinks, and drinks turned into…well, bed. Neither of us was seeing anyone, so we started getting together whenever I was in town. She’s great. She’s just…I don’t know how to explain it. She’s…soft.”

“Soft?”

“Yeah, she’s all rounded edges and warm and sweet. She’s just…soft. She’s the best.”

“And Purina?”

“Nadia. Her name is Nadia.”

“I have a cat that says otherwise.”

“Nadia I met in Prague. I was doing a shoot one winter. I usually never do fashion photography, but I got asked to shoot for Vogue—very artsy, very conceptual. She had a house outside the city. We spent a naked weekend together, and when she moved to the States she looked me up.

She’s getting her masters now in international relations. It’s crazy to me that at twenty-five she’s on the tail end of her career, in modeling, that is. So she’s working hard to do something else. She’s very smart. She’s traveled the entire world, and she speaks five languages! She went to the Sorbonne. Did you know that?”

“How would I know that?”

“Easy to make snap judgments when you don’t know someone, isn’t it?” he asked, eyeing me.

“Touché,” I nodded, nudging him with my foot to go on.

“And then Lizzie. Oh boy, that woman is insane! I met her in London, piss drunk in a pub. She walked up to me, grabbed my collar, kissed me stupid, and dragged me home with her. That girl knows exactly what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it.” I remembered some of her louder moments in great detail. She really was rather specific about what she wanted, provided you could get past the giggling.

“She’s a solicitor—attorney—and one of her main clients lives here in San Francisco. Her business is based in London, but when we’re both in the same city, we make sure to see each other. And that’s it. That’s all she wrote.”

“That’s it? Three women, and that’s it. How do they not get jealous? How are they all okay with this? And don’t you want more? Don’t they want more?”

“For now, no. Everyone is getting exactly what they want, so it’s all good. And yes, they all know about each other, and since no one’s in love here, no one has any real expectations beyond friendship—with the best possible benefits. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I adore each of them, and love them in their own way. I’m a lucky guy. These women are amazing. But I’m too busy to date anyone for real, and most women don’t want to put up with a boyfriend who’s across the globe more often than home.”

“Yes, but not all women want the same thing. We don’t all want the picket fence.”

“Every woman I’ve ever dated has said she doesn’t, but then she does. And that’s cool—I get it—but with my schedule being so crazy, it got to be very difficult for me to be involved with anyone who needed me to be something I’m not.”

“So you’ve never been in love?”

“I didn’t say that, did I?”

“So you have been in a relationship before, with just one woman?”

“Of course, but as I said, once my life became what it is today—the constant traveling—it’s hard to stay in love with that kind of guy. At least that’s what my ex told me when she started dating some accountant. You know, wears a suit, carries a briefcase, home every night by six—it’s what women seem to want.” He sighed, setting his coffee down and relaxing further into the couch. His words said he was okay with all this, but the wistful look on his face said otherwise.

“It’s not what all women want,” I countered.

“Correction, it’s what the women I have dated all wanted. At least until now. That’s why what I have works great for me. These women I spend my time with when I’m home? They’re great. They’re happy, I’m happy—why would I rock the boat?”

“Well, you’re already down to two now, and I think you’d feel differently if the right woman came along. The right woman for you wouldn’t want you to change anything about your life. She wouldn’t rock your boat, she’d jump right in and sail it with you.”

“You’re a romantic, aren’t you?” He leaned in, bumping my shoulder.

“I’m a practical romantic. I can actually see some appeal in having a guy who travels a lot, because, frankly? I like my space. I also take up the entire bed, so it’s difficult for me to sleep with anyone.” I shook my head ruefully, remembering how quickly I used to kick my one-nighters to the curb. Some of my past wasn’t all that different from Simon’s. He just had his sexcapades tied up in a much neater package.

“A practical romantic. Interesting. So what about you? Dating anyone?” he asked.

“Nope, and I’m okay with that.”

“Really?”

“Is it so hard to believe a hot, sexy woman with a great career doesn’t need a man to be happy?”

“First of all, bully for you for calling yourself hot and sexy—because it’s true. It’s nice to see a woman give herself a compliment instead of fishing for one. And second, I’m not talking about getting married here, I’m talking about dating. You know, hanging out? Casually?”