too hard, and get overly involved in other people's affairs."
He leaned back and smirked at her.
A heavy silence enveloped them, so O.E. tried again. He
sat up straight and took a deep breath. "I mean, look at you.
You're a successful businesswoman. I bet you think that the
man you marry must be just as successful as you, and if he
isn't, then he's not worthy." He leaned in close. "Now I'm
not saying this isn't important, but I bet it's the most
important quality you look for in a man. It probably
prevents you from enjoying yourself with someone a little
less successful." He tilted his head and regarded her.
Now wait a minute. Rebecca reeled from his
assessment. It hurt badly, because it hit so close to home.
Had he been dumped by other women who also wanted
successful men? Or was this merely a standard speech that
he used to sell his carefree existence? She didn't want to
believe that he might actually understand her, that he was
telling her something she needed to know. That would be
painful, especially coming from a self-centered man like
him.
She stared back for a few seconds with narrowed eyes
and tight lips. Then she exhaled, letting her body relax a bit.
Even if he was being difficult, he was still a catch. "All right.
Point taken. I'll leave you alone if you leave me alone."
"Good. Truce." He raised his glass. "To peaceful
coexistence, even between two people who think the other
one doesn't know how to live."
Rebecca smiled and drank to O.E.'s toast. "So, just for
fun, what would you recommend I do to be more like you?
Not that I ever want to be like you, of course."
"No, of course not. One person like me is enough for
this world." He raised his chin and turned his head
sideways, a picture of haughtiness. "Oh, where do I begin?"
He was about to speak when dinner arrived. After the
waitress left, he finished his thought. "Tell you what. Let's
eat first then I'll explain how you can be more like me."
As if I would ever want to be more like him. Rebecca
laughed. This was going to be an amusing discussion. When
he was done, she'd tell him how to be more like her.
Rebecca took a bite of her dinner. "Wow, O.E.! This is
good."
"I told you the bluefish was good. Would I steer you
wrong?" He scooped some ragout onto his bread plate and
offered it to her. "Try the lamb. It's one of the best in the