“Nothing,” he said, attacking his food again.

“Come on, I know you want to ask questions. It’s okay. Ask.”

He finished chewing, then stared at his fork for a minute. When he looked up, she found her tummy was tight.

“Why don’t you want a relationship?”

She relaxed. This was an easy one. For the next few minutes she laid out the argument just as it had come to her such a short time ago. He didn’t interrupt, just listened attentively, taking the occasional bite or sip. When she’d finished, she drank some coffee, debating the wisdom of having some pancakes.

“I know women with strong, successful careers who are married.”

She knew it couldn’t be that simple. “I’m sure there are, although I don’t know any. The myth is that women can have it all. It’s not true. Something has to give. I don’t want to have to choose between my career and a man.”

“I don’t blame you. That would be tough. But I don’t believe the choice would be difficult between a career and love. I think you can have both. In fact, I think that with someone there in your corner, someone who cares about you and what you do, the career would change into something much more meaningful. And, at the end of the day, you wouldn’t be alone for your victories. Or your defeats.”

“Being alone doesn’t bother me. And, I might add, for a man your age, you certainly have an idealist view of relationships.”

“Believe me, I’ve thought a lot about that. You’re right. I am being idealistic. But I lived my whole life with two people who loved and respected each other. Watching them together made it impossible for me to settle for anything less.”

She put down her cup. “I’m sorry for you.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why?”

“Because what you saw with your parents is the exception to the rule. I don’t know a single couple like that.”

“I not only saw it with my parents, but several of their friends.”

“You were lucky.”

“So you think I should just give up? Settle for someone mediocre?”

“No. I don’t think you should settle. Maybe adjust your expectations.”

“To what? What are your expectations?”

“I’m not sure how to answer. I haven’t thought about it that much.”

“Seriously?”

“No. I’ve been pretty focused on what I’ve been doing.”

“But surely you’ve thought about getting married. Having a family.”

“Only in the vaguest terms.”

“What was your family like?”

“Nothing like yours, that’s for sure.”

“Tell me.”

She glanced at her watch. “I still have to shower and dress.”

“We won’t be late.”

She supposed she owed him this, although it wasn’t her idea of a good time. “My parents married young, after my mother got pregnant in high school. She ended up with her diploma, but only by the skin of her teeth. My father did two years of college, but never had the life he’d hoped for. He wanted to be a chemist, but he ended up settling for a job as a salesman for a pharmaceutical company. My mother had two more children, both girls, and then she and my dad divorced. My mother worked for years as a legal secretary, which she hated. Most of the people I grew up with came from similar backgrounds. No grand passionate love affairs that lasted past the seven-year itch.”

“Wow. It makes sense that you’ve focused on your career.”

“Yes, I suppose it does. But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. I take a great deal of pride in my accomplishments. I’ve already got a nice portfolio started, and by the time I’m through, I expect to be very comfortable.”

He leaned forward in his chair, which made her aware of her own body; leaning back, crossed arms, crossed legs. She made an effort to loosen up, but the best she could do was hold on to her cup of coffee.

“All on your own, right?” he asked.

“Exactly. I learned very early on that there isn’t a knight in shining armor out there waiting to rescue me. If I want security, I’ll have to earn it myself.”

“That’s wise.”

“You agree?”

He spread his hands. “With the knight theory? Yeah, I do. I don’t think it’s good for anyone to wait to be rescued. It puts too much pressure on the rescuer. It can only lead to disappointment.”

“But isn’t that what you’re hoping to do?”

“No, not at all. I expect the right woman for me will have found what makes her whole and happy. I want to share in that, just as I hope she’ll share in my life.”

“Don’t you read? The statistics alone tell you that you’re dreaming.”

He frowned. “God, I hope not.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to rain on your whatever. My experience has clearly been different than yours. You’ll probably find just what you’re looking for.”

“I’m going to try,” he said.

“Your parents, what do they think of this research project of yours?”

“My father died two years ago, but my mother thinks I’m nuts.”

She smiled. “That’s got to be hard about your dad. It sounds like you two were close.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m sure he would have shared my mother’s sentiments, but he would never have discouraged me. Mom, either. They believe in life by trial and error.”

“So far, you seem to have done well.”

He smiled. “No complaints. I’m about as happy as a man has a right to be.”

“The statistics on that are pretty daunting, too.”

He got a piece of bacon from his plate, ate it slowly. “I wonder why that is,” he said. “So much angst. It never made sense to me.”

“Speaking of angst, I’d better get my act in gear. We have to be at the shoot in less than an hour.”

“Don’t want any more breakfast?”

“Yes, but I’d better not. It was great. Thank you.”

He smiled before he sipped some coffee. She gathered her things and headed for the shower, wondering if she had left because of the time or the conversation.

As soon as she was naked, her thoughts went to last night. The strength of her want of him. Breakfast had been terrific, but not filled with that same lust, although she still found him completely yummy. This was different. She’d never experienced this kind of balance before. Her past flings, and she knew that’s all they were, had been like Roman candles. Brilliant flame, but short-lived. She’d felt that same intensity last night, but now the fire was banked, smoldering, while her focus had been on the conversation.

She climbed in the shower and began her regimen, all the while chewing on the situation.

DAN FOUND HIMSELF a director’s chair and settled in for a long day. They had set up camp in a relatively quiet section of Grand Central Station, cordoned off from the public. The photographer was some big shot with a bunch of major campaigns under his belt, and the models were in the super category, including Sheree O’Brien and Shawn Foote.

It was interesting watching Marla around Shawn. She was clearly smitten, and he seemed interested right back. Surprisingly, Dan was worried for her. Even though he was staunchly in favor of tasting all that life had to offer, he liked Marla and didn’t want to see her get hurt. Although he wasn’t acquainted with Shawn, he had known some male models and actors, and those hadn’t exactly been the brightest or the kindest people he’d ever met. Mostly, they’d been so obsessed with themselves, there was no room for anyone else in their lives. But, he’d give Shawn the benefit of the doubt. For now.

His gaze shifted to Jessica as she spoke with the photographer. Owen hovered, but so far he hadn’t been a real pest. Jessica was in her glory, planning, arranging, making things happen. He liked watching her work. She wore her confidence like a comfortable sweater, and it made her even more beautiful. Today she had on pants, khaki colored, with a cream top and a matching jacket. The outfit would have looked plain on another woman, but it made her hair a more vivid auburn, and it complemented her skin.