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“No, I don’t.” She leaned toward him, eyes earnest. “This is what sets Milwaukeedates.com apart from other sites. I want my clients to find partners who can give them what they need. If you don’t understand what you need, or keep reliving destructive patterns by choosing and discarding the same type of person, you’re going to have trouble finding happy-ever-after. The best way to ensure future romantic success is to dig into the whys and whats of past relationships and sort those out before you meet someone new. This is why I always ask this question, even though it can be difficult and emotional to answer. That said, if you’re not comfortable with it, that’s entirely fine.”
Justin nodded as if he were considering her words, keeping his face blank while internal chemistry urged him to run far and fast. He’d thought he’d be able to walk into Marie’s office, answer a few superficial questions, gather some evidence as to whether she threw Candy at every first-timer, then get out. He wasn’t expecting to have to eviscerate himself and lay his entrails out for her inspection.
“The relationship didn’t work because …” He couldn’t say she was a man-eater and I was dinner, because it was more complicated than that. Angie had been a beautiful, sexual, vulnerable mess. She was a cheater and I was a sap didn’t work either. He needed a more balanced and less angry sound bite. “I was willing to commit to an exclusive dating arrangement and she wasn’t.”
“She was seeing other men.”
“Compulsively.” Justin resettled in the chair, beginning to perspire. He’d thought he’d be doing the investigating here.
“You think her behavior was beyond her control?”
“No. But it was her way of coping with baggage and avoiding commitment. She was trying to fill a black hole of need for reassurance that she was desirable and worthy of love.”
Marie sent him a sympathetic look that stopped short of pity. “It sounds as if you have a good handle on the dynamic. How long did you date her?”
He gritted his teeth. “Nearly a year.”
“Was she dating other men that whole time?” Marie asked the question as if she wanted to know what was available for lunch, while he was using all forces at his disposal not to writhe too obviously.
“I knew of one at the beginning. One at the end. I strongly suspect there were others. Flirtations certainly.”
Marie pressed her lips together and let the silence settle for several seconds. Letting him relax? Building more tension? “Did you think that by staying with her you could save her, Justin? Fix her?”
There it was, the sucker punch. He hated being dragged through this Dr. Phil torture. “I hoped … that what we had would be enough, yeah.”
Marie let more time go by. Which probably meant he had another killer question to look forward to. He relaxed his diaphragm, made sure his hands stayed open.
“Do you think there was something you could have done differently that would have affected the relationship’s outcome?”
Boom. Marie knew her stuff. He felt like squirming in his chair, the schoolboy asked the tough question in front of the class, wanting to avoid answering at all costs. But he’d come this far; he had to fight on to the payoff—when he was matched up with Candy … or not.
He forced himself to consider her question seriously, to think back carefully through a jumble of hot nights, cold mornings, laughter, heartache, jealousy, passion …
“No.” He laced his fingers together, resting his forearms on his thighs, not sure his current relief was from coming up with an answer, or from finding a truth that freed something inside him. “No, I don’t think anything I could have done would have made us right for each other.”
“It doesn’t sound as if she was willing to stop and look at her behavior.”
“It was all she knew how to be.” He tried to grin, but his voice cracked, and only half his mouth seemed able to function. He’d spent months brooding over this relationship, and in ten minutes Marie had gotten to the essence of why he was right to leave it behind.
“Looking forward now.” Her voice was gentle. “You are searching for someone who knows herself.”
“Yes.”
“Someone who wants a serious relationship?”
“Not necessarily.” Justin rubbed his forehead. He’d never been this rattled in an undercover situation. He’d met with bank vice presidents, calmly requesting loans with collateral he didn’t have. He’d visited hospitals and funeral homes, pretending to be a grieving relative. He’d shadowed people, staked out homes and businesses, eavesdropped on conversations, rifled through private filing cabinets—all with more poise and cool than he was able to summon talking about women. “I mean I’m not looking to get married …”
“Why not?” The question was sincere, not challenging.
“Well, not soon.”
“Even if you meet the right person?”
“Uh … yeah, if she’s the right person. I guess.” He wanted either to laugh or bellow in frustration. He’d lost track of which were honest answers and which he’d decided to give when planning this meeting. “I’m not against getting married in the big picture. It’s just not on my radar right now.”
Marie made a note. “So you’re looking to meet someone, with the possibility of marriage down the road.”
“Yeah. Sure. If it seems right.” Marriage? He’d come in looking for a piece of Candy and was being offered a whole cake.
“What would she be like, this person?”
Finally. Solid ground. He’d prepared for this. “Someone honest. No head games.”
“Is appearance important to you?”
“Some. But it’s what’s inside that really counts, right?” He wanted to cringe at his Boy Scout sweetness.
“We can’t help being attracted to some looks and turned off by others.”
“Well, yeah. I mean, I am a guy.” He shrugged as if it were the most obvious conclusion in the world. “I do want a woman who cares about her appearance.”
Marie nodded. “Understood. Beyond the facade, do you want a risk-taker? A homebody? What type?”
“A little of each. Someone happy to be alive, someone who throws herself into each day, who’s grateful for what she has but works hard to get more. A woman comfortable with her body, with a healthy attitude toward sex.”
“‘Healthy’ meaning …”
“Uninhibited. With a good appetite.” He winked, again covering his discomfort. The best way not to get caught in a lie was to tell as much truth as possible, but as he kept talking about what he wanted, he kept seeing Candy’s face, not merely as a target of this investigation, and kept having to tamp down excitement he hadn’t felt in a while.
Which was nuts. He didn’t know Candy at all. She could be a prime manipulator, using men to pad her friend’s coffers and her own. He was out of his element, that was all—displaced from his old home, not yet comfortable in his new one. Of course he’d latch on to someone he could conceivably belong with because belonging was something everyone wanted. Because he’d never belonged with Angie, no matter how much he wanted her or how much he tried.
Half an hour later, hallelujah, Marie finally closed her folder, apparently out of questions, leaving Justin drained, as if she’d sucked out several pounds of his self. No wonder they called psychologists shrinks. “What do you think, Marie, is there hope?”
“Absolutely. Come see.” She reached eagerly for her laptop, eyes dancing. He stood next to her, found himself oddly nervous as she logged on to the Milwaukeedates.com site. “You’ll have your own username and password to look through profiles, but I always start people off with a suggested match since I know my clientele pretty well. Someone came to mind when you were talking, and I thought you’d like to see her.”
“Sure.” Here it came, the moment of at least partial truth. Had someone really “come to mind” or was she offering Candy to all strangers?
“She’s fun, energetic, but a good solid person underneath. Like you, she had a serious relationship that didn’t work out, and while she wants marriage, right now she’s more interested in easing back into dating than in going for the perfect fit first try. However, I guarantee if you hit it off, you’ll find she’s strictly a one-man woman.” She pressed a few more keys. “Let me pull up her profile.”
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