“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Jack Bailey,” he introduced himself between bites of the sandwich. He had salt and pepper hair, although he was in his early thirties, and a beard, all of which gave him a mature appearance to the kids. He was easy to take seriously, and Victoria smiled at him and introduced herself as she munched her lettuce.

“I know who you are,” he said, smiling at her. “Every senior in this school loves you. You’re a tough act to follow when they come to me after your class. They have so much more fun with you. I don’t know how you come up with some of your ideas. You’re a star here.” It was a nice thing to say, and she was pleased.

“They’re not always so crazy about me,” she assured him. “Especially when I give them surprise quizzes.”

“I could never decide if I wanted to be a physicist or a poet when I was growing up. I think you made the better choice.”

“I’m not a poet either,” she said simply, “just a teacher. How are you enjoying the school?”

“I love it. I taught in a small rural school in Oklahoma last year. The kids are a lot more sophisticated here.” And she knew he was too. She had heard that he had graduated from MIT. “I’m having a lot of fun discovering New York. I’m originally from Texas. I lived in Boston for a couple of years after I graduated, then migrated to Oklahoma. I love being in this city,” he said warmly, as he finished his sandwich.

“Me too. I’m from L.A. I’ve been here for a year. There’s still a lot I want to do and see.”

“Maybe we should do that together,” he said with a hopeful look, and for a moment she felt a flutter. She wasn’t sure if he was serious about the suggestion, or just being friendly. She would have loved to go out with someone like him. She’d had a few dates in the past few months, including someone she’d gone to high school with in L.A., and all of them were duds. Her dating life was still almost nonexistent, and Jack was the only really eligible man at school. All of the single female teachers had been talking about him since he arrived, and referred to him as a “hunk.” Victoria was well aware of that as they were speaking.

“That would be fun,” she said casually in case he hadn’t really meant it.

“Do you like theater?” he asked as they both stood up. He was considerably taller than she was, well over six feet.

“Very much. I can’t really afford it,” she said honestly, “but I go once in a while, just to treat myself.”

“There’s an off-off-Broadway play I’ve been meaning to see. It’s a little dark, but I hear it’s great. I’ve met the playwright. Maybe we could go this weekend, if you’re free.” She didn’t want to tell him that she was free for the rest of her life, particularly for him. She was flattered by his interest.

“That sounds great,” she said, smiling warmly, sure that he wouldn’t follow up on the invitation. She was used to men being friendly to her, and never calling her after that. And she had very few opportunities to meet single men. She lived and worked among women, kids, and gay and married men. An eligible bachelor was a rarity in her world. Her shrink had been encouraging her to get out and meet more people, not just men. Her world was limited to and defined by school.

“I’ll send you an e-mail,” he promised as they both left the teachers’ lounge and went back to work. They were teaching classes at the same time. He waved and disappeared in the opposite direction, to where the science labs were, and she drifted past Helen’s classroom on the way to her own. She was talking to Carla Bernini, and both women looked up and smiled as she walked by. She stopped in the doorway for a minute.

“Hi, you guys.” She loved the camaraderie they all shared. Both women were older than she was, but working at a school was frequently like being part of a family, with a lot of older siblings who were her fellow teachers, and younger ones who were the students. They were all in this together.

“Rumor has it that you had lunch with the hunk in the lounge,” Carla said with a broad grin, and Victoria smiled, looking sheepish.

“Are you kidding? We sat at the same table. Leave the poor guy alone. Half the school is after him. He was just being polite. Do you two have radar, or are you bugging the teachers’ lounge?” All three women laughed. They knew only too well that all schools were gossip mills, where teachers talked about each other as well as the students, and what was happening in their lives, and everyone knew everything that went on.

“He’s cute,” Carla volunteered, and Helen agreed, as Victoria rolled her eyes.

“Believe me, he’s not after me. I’m sure he has better fish to fry.” And it was common knowledge that the hot new French teacher was after him. What chance would she have?

“He’d be lucky to have you,” Carla said warmly. She had become very fond of their youngest colleague, and she had a lot of respect for Victoria as a teacher, even though she still had a lot to learn. But she had done very well in her first year.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Victoria said again, and walked on to her classroom. It was amazing to her how fast news traveled in a high school. Faster than the speed of sound. She wondered if he would actually send her an e-mail. She doubted it, but he’d been nice to talk to over lunch. She didn’t expect anything to come of it, and said as much to her shrink the next day.

“Why not?” her doctor asked her. “Why do you think he won’t follow through on what he said?”

“Because it was no big deal, just casual conversation over lunch. He probably didn’t mean it.”

“What if he did? What would that say to you?”

“I guess that he likes me, or maybe he’s just lonely.”

“So you think you’re only worthy as a stopgap for lonely guys? What if he actually likes you?”

“I think he was just being polite,” Victoria said firmly. She’d been disappointed before by men who she thought were interested in her and never called her.

“What makes you think that?” her psychiatrist said with quiet interest. “Do you think you deserve a nice man to go out with?” There was a long silence while Victoria pondered the question.

“I don’t know. I’m overweight. I’m not as pretty as my sister. I hate my nose. And my mother says men don’t like smart women.” The psychiatrist smiled at her answer, and Victoria laughed nervously at her own response.

“Well, we can agree that you’re smart. That’s a good beginning. And I don’t agree with your mother. Smart men like smart women. The superficial ones may not, and may be threatened by them. But you wouldn’t want one of those men. Your nose looks fine to me. And weight is not a character flaw, it’s something you can change. A man who really likes you and cares about you won’t care about your weight one way or another. You’re a very attractive woman, Victoria, and any man would be lucky to have you.” It was nice to hear, but Victoria didn’t entirely believe her. The evidence in the other side of the scale had been too heavy for too long—the insults of her father, the constant dismissal of her parents, her own sense of failure. “Let’s see if he calls you. But even if he doesn’t, all that means is that he has other interests. It doesn’t mean that no man will ever want you.” She was twenty-three years old, and so far no male she’d ever known had fallen seriously in love with her. She had been passed over and ignored for years, except by friends. She felt like a shapeless, sexless, totally undesirable object. And it was going to take hard work and dedication to turn that around. It was why she was here. To change the image her parents had given her of herself. And she said she was willing to do whatever it took, even if the process was painful for her. Living with her own sense of defeat was worse. It had been her parents’ legacy to her, to make her feel unlovable, because they didn’t love her. It had started the day she was born. She had twenty-three years of their negative messages about her to cancel out now, one by one. And finally she was ready to face it.

Victoria felt a little discouraged after the session. It was hard digging through her past at times, pulling all those ugly memories out into the open and looking long and hard at them. She was still feeling down about it when she got home. She hated remembering those things, and all the times her father had hurt her feelings and her mother had turned a deaf ear and blind eye and never come to her defense. Her own mother. The only one who ever had was Gracie.

And what did that say about her? That her own mother didn’t love her? Nor her father. And the only one who could was a child, who didn’t know any better. It told her that no intelligent adult could love her, not even her parents. And she had to learn to remind herself now that it was a flaw in their psychological makeup, not her own.

She turned on her computer when she got home and checked her e-mail. She had one from Gracie, telling her what was happening at school, and about a drama with a new boy she had a crush on. At sixteen she had more boys circling her at one time than Victoria had had in a lifetime, even if they were just kids. The voice on her computer said she had mail as she finished reading Gracie’s message with a grin. And then she switched over to see who it was. She didn’t recognize the e-mail address at first, and as she read it again, it clicked for her immediately: Jack Bailey. The new chemistry teacher at lunch in the student lounge. She opened his e-mail quickly, trying not to feel anxious. It could have been something about school or one of the students they shared, and she sat staring at the e-mail after she read it.Hi. Nice seeing you at lunch yesterday, and having time to chat. I managed to get two tickets to the play I mentioned to you. Any chance you’d like to join me on Saturday? Dinner before or after? Potluck at nearby diner, provided by starving chem teacher. Let me know if you’re free and it’s of interest. See you around school.Jack.

Victoria sat staring at it endlessly, wondering what it meant. Friendship? A date? Someone who had no friends in New York and was just lonely? Did he like her? She felt like Gracie with her high school romances as she tried to read between the lines. It made her nervous, and maybe it was just what it appeared to be. Dinner and a play on a Saturday night, offered by a nice guy. They could figure out the rest later, if they wanted to go out again. She couldn’t wait to tell Harlan about it when he got home.

“That’s what they call dating, Victoria. A guy asks you out. He offers to feed you, possibly entertainment, in this case a play. And if you both have fun, you do it again. What did you answer?” He asked with interest, but he was happy for her. She looked excited.

“Nothing. I wasn’t sure what to say. How do you know it’s a date?”

“Time of day. Offer of food. Entertainment provided. Saturday night. Your sexes, your ages, career in common. You’re both single. I’d say it’s a pretty safe bet that this is a date.” He was laughing at her, and she looked nervous.

“Maybe he just wants to be friends.”

“Maybe. But plenty of romances start as friendships. Since you both work at a fancy school, I don’t think he’s an ax murderer. He doesn’t appear to have any serious addictions, or substance abuse issues. He probably hasn’t been recently arrested. I think you’d probably be safe for dinner and a play. If not, you can always carry Mace.” She grinned at the suggestion.

“Besides, this isn’t just his show, you know. You might decide you don’t like him.” He wanted her to know that she had decision-making power here too.

“Why would I do that? He’s smart, he’s nice looking. He went to MIT. He’s got a lot more going for him than I do. He could go out with anyone he wanted.”

“Yes, and so could you. And besides, he asked you. Let’s keep the playing field level here. You have just as much free choice here as he does. No one died and made him king.” It was good advice, and she knew it, and it was a reality check for her. She felt so inadequate and unlovable most of the time, she knew now, that she forgot that she had a voice in this too. The decision was not only just his. “And don’t forget the lamb chop factor,” Harlan said with a serious air, as he made them both a cup of tea.

“What’s that?” Victoria asked with a puzzled expression.

“You meet a guy who is so gorgeous it knocks you flat on your ass, and you can hardly breathe when you see him. He’s brilliant, charming, and funny, as well as the best-looking guy you’ve ever seen. Maybe he even drives a Ferrari. Then you see him eat a lamb chop, like he was born in a stable and eats like a pig in a trough, and you never want to see him again.” Victoria burst out laughing at what he said.