Long Slow Burn. Isabel Sharpe
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Jane pointed back toward Marie’s office, from which a younger woman had just emerged. “Marie’s got a treat for you.”
“A treat?”
Jane waggled her brows. “One of our new listings. Adorable.”
“Oh.” Kim laughed uncomfortably, ducking her head when the woman Marie had been meeting with passed behind her. Being here made her feel exposed, as if she was announcing to the world that she couldn’t get dates the normal way. Whatever normal was these days. Probably being here. She moved toward Marie’s office, wanting away from Jane’s black-framed stare. “Thanks, Jane.”
“Nice to meet you finally.”
“Right.” She pushed into Marie’s office. So flattering when people forgot they ever laid eyes on you. “Hey, Marie.”
“Kim, how are you? Come on in.” She beckoned warmly, elegant as always in a black pantsuit with cream accents and tasteful gold jewelry.
“Thanks.” Kim stepped into the cozy office, decorated more like someone’s favorite room than a place of business. Shelves lined two walls, with books, decorative pottery pieces and plants set at attractive intervals. Trust Marie to keep clients relaxed and comfortable in whatever way she could. “You’ve done fabulous things with this room.”
“That’s right, it was completely bare when you were in here before.” Marie waved her toward one of the overstuffed chairs in front of her desk, and took the other one. “Have a seat, make yourself comfortable. I see you got coffee already.”
“Not that I need to be any more jittery.” She perched on the chair’s edge, mug in one hand, Milwaukeedates.com paperwork clutched in the other.
“Trust me, everyone is nervous doing this. What did you think of the forms? Have any trouble?”
“Not really.” She held them out to Marie. “I’m not into the whole self-pimping thing, but I did my best.”
“Self-pimping? Interesting choice of words.” Marie took the papers, glancing over at Kim before she read them. “I’ll start with your description of yourself, then we’ll talk about the guy you’d like to meet. Okay with you?”
“Sounds good.”
Marie read while Kim got fidgety, sipped coffee, decided she didn’t need more caffeine, held the cup down in her lap, got fidgety, sipped more coffee …
“Okay.” Marie shifted position, frowning slightly. “Your profile. You’ve described yourself well here….”
“But?”
“But.” Marie put the papers down and met her eyes. “You make yourself sound a little dull.”
“I am a little dull.” She held up her hand when Marie started protesting. “I don’t wear makeup, I don’t own sexy clothes, I rarely go out. Men who want that whole hot party-girl thing aren’t going to want to waste time on a date with me.”
“Most men only want that kind of woman in fantasy.” Marie leaned forward earnestly. “Here they ask for honest women, loyal women, women with brains and with a sense of humor. You’ve got all that, but you make it sound as if you have nothing to offer. ‘I stay home most of the time. I don’t like crowds or noise.’”
Kim shrugged. “I want to be honest about who I am.”
“Understood.” Marie held up the page and shook it vigorously. “But this is maybe half of who you are.”
Kim tried to keep from bristling, without much luck. “How would you change it? With some dating euphemism? Like when Realtors say ‘cozy and quaint’ and mean ‘cramped and dingy,’ instead of ‘shy’ I should say I’m ‘serene’ or I have ‘hidden passion'?”
Marie dimpled a too-innocent smile. “Why, that’s exactly what I was going to suggest. ‘Hi, I’m Kim. Serene with hidden passion.’”
Kim’s cranky outrage wilted into laughter. “Ew.”
“We’ll move on for now. Tell me about your past relationships. The main ones. What the men were like, what happened, etc.”
Ugh.Kim wiggled farther back into the chair. “Well, let’s see. First boyfriend, Sam, in high school. Geek like me, quiet, we both had horrible skin and a love for all things computer. That lasted three years. We broke up when we went to college.”
“Because …”
“Our relationship had gotten too predictable and we both wanted to grow.”
“Understandable. Were you sexually involved?”
“Yeah.” Kim blushed. “Or something like it. High school, you know.”
“I do. Who came next?”
“Josh, in college. We dated for a year, then he ended it. He was a physics and philosophy double major and didn’t have time for a girlfriend.”
“Ouch.” Marie grimaced sympathetically. “Nice when you come first, huh?”
“Yeah, it didn’t feel great.” Kim adjusted the hem of her sweater, wanting to change the subject, but knowing Marie wouldn’t let her off the hook. “I survived.”
“After that?”
“Oh, well …” She took a sip of coffee that suddenly tasted bitter.
“Hmm.” Marie narrowed her eyes. “Something not so great.”
“Tony.” Kim let her head drop back against the chair. “Big, handsome jock, the kind of guy I’d get a crush on but never thought would be into me.”
Marie lifted her eyebrows. “I’m not surprised he was.”
“Yeah, well, I was suspicious, but he kept coming around.” She put her mug on Marie’s desk. “He was charming, persistent and surprisingly interesting to talk to. I got sucked in, started dressing better and wearing makeup. I went on meds to clear up my face. I looked good and felt great, and thought, Oh boy, the birth of New Kim! I loved the attention, not only from him, but from his friends. Seemed like wherever we went, they were watching me. I thought I was hot stuff.”
“You are.” Marie held up Kim’s profile again. “You’re selling yourself way short here. You should be—”
“Wait.” Kim shook her head, throat tightening. “Let me finish. I finally trusted him enough to let him in, to care about him. One night after he’d taken me to some horrible, loud party where I drank too much to be able to stand it, we went back to his place. He lived off campus, and his roommate wasn’t there. We had sex all over the apartment all night long. Incredible sex, I-didn’t-know-it-could-be-like-that sex.”
Marie’s frown crept back. She obviously couldn’t figure Tony out any better than Kim had been able to. “And this was bad how?”
“Turned out he had a bet with his friends that I’d be better in bed than I looked. Apparently he considered himself an expert at being able to tell which geeky girls were hot in the sack.”
“Ah.” Marie’s lips tightened. “I can see why you’re not keen on the phrase ‘hidden passion.’”
“Then it got worse.”
“Oh, Kim.”
“Since he won the bet, he had to beat his chest all over campus.” Kim screwed her eyes shut. “I had guys lining up to ask me out for weeks after, thinking they’d get what he got. I’m sure it never occurred to them I’d actually started to like the pig and that’s why I slept with him.”
“I’m sorry.”
Kim opened her eyes, hating the quaver in her voice the story could still bring on. “I got over it. Mostly. But now I avoid any guy who seems more concerned with what a woman represents than who she is. That whole ‘score at any