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Liza smiled. “Tell me about Cal Morrisey.”

  “Why?” Shanna said, warily.

  “Because he’s been kissing my best friend, and I’ve heard he has a commitment problem.”

  Shanna shrugged. “Him and half the male population.”

  “Half of the male population isn’t kissing Min,” Liza said. “He’s not serious about her, is he?”

  Shanna bit her lip. “He’s the best guy I know. If I was ever in trouble, I’d call Cal, and he would come and get me out, I know that in my soul.”

  “And yet, not an answer to my question,” Liza said.

  Shanna was quiet for a moment and then she said, “Tell your friend not to get invested. He doesn’t stay.”

  “Thank you,” Liza said.

  “But he’s a really good guy,” Shanna said.

  “I keep hearing that,” Liza said, getting up. “I’m just having trouble believing it.”

  At seven, Cal decided that one more minute of looking at the seminar packet would make him beat his head against the desk, and he’d had enough cranial injury for the month. On the other hand, looking at Min at The Long Shot would only lead to being called the devil again. Or, if she was having a good day, a beast. He stood up and stretched, and then set out for home, slowing down as he passed the Gryphon Theater. They were doing the last week of the John Carpenter revival, and there was a short line out in front for Big Trouble in Little China.

  Kurt Russell beats the bad guys, he thought. Haven’t seen that since I was a kid. The last person left the box office, and he went up and bought a ticket. Better than spending the night alone, concentrating on not thinking about . . . anyone.

  As he walked in, the previews were running for an Elvis Presley series, and he thought of Min. Forget her, he told himself, and found a place a few rows down and a few seats over, surrounded by empty seats. But as the movie began and Kurt started talking trash in his truck, a family of five came in and asked him to move down. The person to the right of his new seat was quiet, so he slouched down and lost himself in the movie, peaceful for the first time since the night before.

  When the lights came up, he stood up to go at the same time as the woman on his right. Medium height, short curly brown hair tipped with gold, turning now to get her gray-checked jacket . . .

  They stared at each other for a long, dumbstruck moment, and then she walked out of the theater and he followed. When they were outside she turned and looked at him.

  “What are the odds?” Cal said.

  “I don’t even know how to calculate the odds,” Min said, and started walking, and he fell into pace beside her because she shouldn’t walk home alone in the dark in the city.

  Coincidence, Cal told himself. Happens all the time. No big deal. Means nothing.

  When they got to her apartment, she climbed the steps without any arguing about who was going first, and for once he was too stunned to think about her rear end. At her door she turned and said, “Thank you for walking me home,” and he said, “You’re welcome.” They looked at each other for one long moment, and Cal felt breathless, falling into her eyes, and he thought, Oh, Christ, no, not you. Then she shook her head and went inside and closed the door, and he turned and walked down fifty-eight steps to the street, not sure whether to be relieved or not.

  He paused and looked up at the dormer that was her bedroom window. The cat sat there, silhouetted against the light from her lamp, staring down at him, probably shutting one eye in the darkness. He imagined Min sitting down on that satin comforter, lying back on embroidered pillows that smelled of lavender, her gold-tipped curls against the blue satin, and he put himself there, beside her, pulling her to him, her arms around him, all her warm roundness against him, soft and yielding, imagined taking her lush mouth, feeling the swell of her breast under his hand, the rise of her hips to his, imagined pushing into all that softness, shuddering into the hot wetness of her, hearing her moan and sigh as he moved, and he realized that he wanted her more than he could ever have imagined wanting anything or anyone.

  The light went out in her bedroom and broke the spell, and he closed his eyes against the darkness and the cold shock of reality. Then he turned and started back to the main street, to light and noise and safety.

  On Thursday, when Liza showed up at Min’s apartment for the If Dinner, Bonnie answered the door looking cautious. When Liza lifted her eyebrows to ask What?, Bonnie shook her head and stood back to let her in.

  “Hi,” Min said, a little too quietly, and Liza thought, That rat bastard Cal.

  “What did he do?”

  “Nothing,” Min said. “Sit down. I made a huge Cobb salad and I’m starving. Let’s eat.”

  Liza turned back to the couch and saw a one-eyed animal looking at her. “You still have the cat.”

  “I love that cat,” Min said. “He’s always there for me, he pats me with his paw when I’m depressed, he keeps me warm at night, and he has a beautiful voice. I’ve decided he’s the reincarnation of Elvis.”

  “The long wait is over,” Liza said. He gave her something she didn’t even know she needed. The bastard.

  After ten minutes of bread, salad, and stilted conversation about the cat, Liza had had enough. “I talked to Cynthie last night. She said Cal would try to—”

  “I like him,” Bonnie said.

  Liza sat back in her chair. “What?”

  “I like him,” Bonnie said.

  “That doesn’t mean you should encourage—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Min said, and they both turned to look at her. “I’m trying to get away from him, but it’s not working. Remember that snow globe I lost? He found it. He came over on Tuesday and went straight down to the basement and picked out the one box there that the snow globe was in.”

  “Dumb luck,” Liza said.

  “And then last night, I decided to go to the movies,” Min said. “And when the lights came up, guess who was sitting beside me?”

  “Now that’s creepy,” Liza said, going cold. “He’s stalking you.”

  “No,” Min said. “I picked up the paper, and the movie page fell out, and I saw Big Trouble in Little China was at the revival theater, and I thought, ‘Oh, good, Kurt Russell beats the bad guys’ and I went on an impulse. I didn’t tell anybody. I didn’t even mention it to the cat. And there he was. It’s like he’s magic.”

  “It’s like he’s the devil,” Liza said.

  “It’s like he’s the prince,” Bonnie said.

  Liza and Min looked at her.

  “In the fairy tale,” Bonnie said. “He has to go on quests to get you. And the snow globe was one.”

  “Bonnie, honey,” Min said, jarred out of her numbness. “Let’s do the Ifs instead. If I were a sane person, I wouldn’t be so freaked out by this. So I’m going to be a sane person and not be freaked out. Liza? What’s your If?”

  “If I find out Cal Morrisey is stalking you, I’m going to tear him limb from limb,” Liza said. “Bonnie?”

  “If you two get any dumber, I’m going to have to find new friends,” Bonnie scowled at Min. “Cal’s winning you. Just like in the fairy tale. You said his kiss woke you up.”

  “I said his kiss turned me on,” Min said. “Not the same thing.” She leaned forward a little. “I was fine with using the fairy tale as a sort of metaphor, Bon, but this is real life. No prince, no stepmother, no poisoned apple.”

  “And no happy ending if you think like that,” Bonnie said. “True love is beating you over the head to get your attention, and you’re rejecting it because you don’t want to believe. You have the fairy tale right in front of you—”

  “Wait a minute,” Liza said, trying to head off disaster.

  “And you’re worse,” Bonnie said, turning on her. “Min doesn’t believe in love for her, but you don’t believe in it for anybody. You’re a love nihilist.”

  “A love nihilist.” Liza thought about it. “I kind of like that.”

  “Well, I don’t,” Min said. “I believe i