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  This time Cal had taken Min. Min who was good, solid wife material except for that stubborn streak which he could have worn down, she’d have come back eventually. But now—

  He stiffened as Cal came back through the door and motioned him over.

  “We’re going to dinner,” Cal said, holding out his hand. “Ten bucks.”

  He sounded mad, which made David feel better as he took out his wallet and handed Cal the ten.

  “Smart move not tipping me that she hates men,” Cal said.

  Then he was gone, and David went back to the railing and said, “I think I just made a mistake.”

  “You, too?” Cynthie said, her voice sad over her martini glass.

  David glanced at the door. “So it wasn’t your idea to break up with Cal?”

  “No.” Cynthie stared at the door. “I thought it was time to get married, so I said, ‘Now or never.’ ” She smiled tightly up at David. “And he said, ‘Sorry.’ ” She drew in a deep breath and David tried not to be distracted by the fact that she was braless under her red jersey dress.

  “That’s lousy.” David leaned against the rail so he couldn’t look down her dress since that would be crass, something Cal Morrisey would do. “Cal must be a moron.”

  “Thank you.” Cynthie turned back to watch the bar as Tony got up from the next table and walked down the stairs with Roger following. Her hair moved like TV hair, a dark silky fall that brushed her shoulders. “I’d love to know how Cal met that woman. I could have sworn he wasn’t dating anybody.”

  David considered telling her that Cal had picked up Min because of the bet and then thought, No. The bet had not been his finest hour. In fact, for the life of him, he couldn’t think why he’d done it, it was as if some malignant force had whispered in his ear. No, it was Cal’s fault, that’s what it was, and it was a disaster because if Min ever found out he’d made that bet . . .

  “Do you know her?” Cynthie said.

  “She’s my ex-girlfriend.”

  “Oh.” Cynthie put her drink down. “Well, I hope Cal’s sorry he picked her up. I hope he realizes what he’s lost once he gets her back to his place.”

  “They’re not going back to his place,” David said. “She won’t.” Cynthie waited, and he added, “She doesn’t like sex.”

  Cynthie smiled.

  David shrugged. “At least, she wouldn’t try it in the two months we were together. So I ended it.”

  Cynthie shook her head, still smiling. “You didn’t give the relationship enough time. What does she do for a living?”

  David stiffened at the criticism. “She’s an actuary. And it strikes me that two months—”

  “David,” Cynthie said, “if you wanted sex in the first five minutes, you should have dated a stripper. If she’s an actuary, she’s a cautious person, her career is figuring out how to minimize risk, and in your case, she was right.”

  David began to dislike Cynthie. “How was she right?”

  “You left her over sex.” Cynthie leaned forward, and David pretended not to watch her breasts under the jersey. “David, this is my specialty. If you loved her, you wouldn’t have given her an ultimatum over sex.”

  “What is it you do?” David said, coldly.

  “I’m a psychologist.” Cynthie picked up her drink, and David remembered some of the gossip he’d heard.

  “You’re the dating guru,” he said, warming to her again. She was practically a celebrity. “You’ve been on TV.”

  “I do guest spots,” Cynthie said. “My research on relationships has been very popular. And all of it tells me you do not give an ultimatum over sex.”

  “You gave Cal one.”

  “Not over sex,” Cynthie said. “I’d never deny him sex. And it wasn’t an ultimatum, it was strategy. We’d been together nine months, we were past infatuation and into attachment, and I knew that all he needed was a physiological cue to make him aware of his true feelings.”

  “That makes no sense at all,” David said.

  Cynthie smiled at him without warmth. “My studies have shown that the process of falling into mature love happens in four steps.” She held up one finger. “When you meet a woman, you subconsciously look for cues that she’s the kind of person you should be with. That’s assumption.” She held up a second finger. “If she passes the assumption test, you begin to get to know her to find out if she’s appropriate for you. If she is, you’re attracted.” She held up a third finger. “If, as you get to know her, the attraction is reinforced with joy or pain or both, you’ll fall into infatuation. And . . .” She held up her fourth finger. “If you manage to make a connection and attach to each other during infatuation, you’ll move into mature, unconditional love.”

  “That seems a little clinical,” David said, faking interest. After all, she was almost a celebrity.

  “That doesn’t mean it’s wrong,” Cynthie said. “Take assumption. Your subconscious mind scans women and picks out those that meet your assumptions about the kind of woman you’re attracted to.”

  “I like to think I’m not close-minded,” David said.

  “Which is why I’m surprised Cal picked up your Min.” Cynthie sipped her drink. “One of his assumptions is that his women will be beautiful.”

  “I always thought Cal was shallow,” David said, and thought, He picked her up for the bet, the bastard.

  “He’s not shallow at all,” Cynthie said. “Since they’ve passed assumption, they’ll now subconsciously gauge attraction. For example, if they fell into step when they left the bar, that could be a strong psychological hint that they’re compatible.” She frowned. “I wish we could watch them at dinner.”

  “And see what?” David said, picking up his drink again. “Them eating in unison?”

  “No,” Cynthie said. “If they mirror each other in action, both crossing their legs the same way, for example. If she accepts his touch with pleasure. If they exchange a copulatory gaze.”

  David choked on his drink.

  “It’s a look that’s held a few seconds too long,” Cynthie said. “It’s a clear sexual signal. All species do it.”

  David nodded and reminded himself not to stare in the future.

  “If their conversation picks up a rhythm with no long silences, that will be attraction. If they develop enough of a relationship to use nicknames.”

  “Min hates nicknames,” David said, remembering a disastrous “honey bun” incident.

  “If they have the same tastes in music or film. If they establish shared secrets or private jokes. If they value the same things. Is Min self-employed?”

  “No,” David said. “She works for Alliance Insurance. Her father is a vice president there.”

  Cynthie’s smile curved across her beautiful face. “Excellent. Cal likes to gamble, so he admires people who take risks. That’s why he refused to go into his father’s business and started his own company instead. He’s not going to be impressed by somebody who’s riding her father’s coattails. He’ll think she’s dull.”

  “That’s good,” David said. The superficial bastard.

  Cynthie nodded over her glass. “Even her attitude will make a difference. Someone who likes you and likes being with you is attractive.” She looked woebegone for a moment. “And of course your Min will be delighted to be with him.”

  “No, she isn’t,” David said, feeling better. “She’s mad at all men right now because I broke things off with her. And she’s got a sharp tongue.”

  Cynthie brightened. “So he’ll combine her bad temper with his analysis of her as someone who’s too conservative. This is sounding very good, David. Will she let him pay for dinner?”

  David shook his head. “Min insists on going Dutch. She’s a very fair woman.”

  “Every species has a dinner date as part of courting ritual,” Cynthie said. “A woman who won’t let you pay for dinner is rejecting your courtship. She may think she’s playing fair, or that she’s being a feminist, but at a very deep level, s