She propped herself up on one elbow in bed and smiled at him. “You don't sleep with anyone else, do you? Now, I mean, since we've been together.”

He looked at her and smiled, and traced her nipples with one finger, which aroused her. “That's a pretty big question.”

“I assume it has a simple answer,” she said softly.

“I'm assuming that this is an exclusive arrangement.” She had heard Meg use the term.

“Exclusive is a big word,” he said, as he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling without expression.

“What does that mean?” She could feel a knot form in her stomach.

“I haven't slept with anyone else since I've been with you,” he said, as he looked at her, and she watched him. “But it could happen. It's awfully early in the day for us to make a commitment to each other.”

“I don't expect a commitment,” she said quietly. “But I do expect to be exclusive, or monogamous, or whatever you want to call it.”

“As long as we use condoms, that's not a problem. I'm not going to put you at risk, Paris, I wouldn't do that.”

“But you're not going to be monogamous either?”

“I can't promise you that. I don't want to lie to you. We're adults. Anything can happen.”

“Are you reserving the right to see other women?” Paris looked stunned. It hadn't even occurred to her that he might, or that he would want to.

“You don't leave me time for that,” he said lightly. But he traveled. And there were plenty of nights when she had to work. She had never expected his answer, and she looked deeply upset as she sat up in bed and looked down at him, lying next to her. It had never dawned on her until then that this was not an exclusive arrangement. “You never said that was an issue for you,” he said, looking somewhat irritated that the subject had come up.

“I didn't think I had to. I just assumed that was what you wanted too. You said this was special and different.”

“It is special. But I'm not going to be put on a leash. We're not married. And we both know how little that means.”

“No, I don't,” she said plaintively. “I don't know anything of the sort. I was faithful to my husband, and he was faithful to me for more than twenty years of our marriage. And that's beside the point.” She looked sad suddenly. Reality had hit her. This wasn't marriage—it was dating. “I don't want to share you.”

“You don't own me,” he said, sounding angry.

“I don't know that I want to. But I do want to know that while you're sleeping with me, however long that is, you won't sleep with other people.”

“It's premature in the relationship to do that, Paris. We're adults, we're free. You might meet someone you want to sleep with.”

“Not if I'm involved with you, and if that happens, you'll be the first to know.” She was sitting ramrod straight now.

“That's noble of you,” he said practically, “but I'm not going to make you the same promise. Things happen, even if you don't plan them.”

“Would you tell me afterward if it did?”

“Not necessarily. I don't owe you that. Not after six weeks. In six months maybe, depending on how things go between us. But that's a long way off. We're not there yet.”

“Is there a rule book on this? Because if there is, I want to see it. Are there timetables about what happens when, like what happens at six weeks, and then what you can expect at three months, or six, or a year? Who makes these rules?”

“It depends on the arrangement between two people,” he said comfortably. He was not going to let her pressure him. It bothered him that she even tried to. Exclusivity was not part of the deal. For him.

“And what arrangement do we have?” Paris asked, looking straight at him.

“None officially for the moment. We're having a good time, aren't we? What more do we need than that?” Paris didn't say a word as she got out of bed and looked over her shoulder at him.

“I need a lot more. I need to know that I'm the only woman in your life, or in your bed at least, for the moment.”

“That's not reasonable,” he said simply.

“I think it is. I think this is a sad way for people to live. Life is about integrity and caring and commitment, not just playing and having sex.”

“Do you have fun with me?” he asked as he rolled over on his side and watched her. She was dressing.

“Yes, I do. But life is about more than just fun too.”

“Then give it a chance to get there. It's too early to be talking about things like this. Paris, don't spoil it.”

“You just did.” But she had to admit, he was honest at least. But not much else.

“If you leave it alone, we might get there eventually, but you can't force it.”

“And while we're ‘getting there,’ you want to sleep with other people?”

“I may never do it. I haven't yet. But yes, I could.”

“I don't want to worry about it, and I would. I would always wonder. Now that I know how you feel about it, I'm not sure I would ever trust you. How could I? Any more than you could trust me. You'd never know what I was doing. Except with me, you would know. That's the difference.”

“I don't expect that of you. Those are the ground rules.”

“What? Every man for himself, and screw whoever you want to? How pathetic. And how sad actually. I want more than that. I want love and integrity between two people.”

“I've never lied to you. And I wouldn't.”

“No,” she said sadly, “you just wouldn't tell me. Would you?” He didn't answer, and she stood and looked at him for a long moment. “If you ever feel differently about this, call me.” She wanted to say, if you ever grow up and decide to stop playing. “This has been wonderful. But it wouldn't be if I knew you were cheating on me. And to me, that's what it would be. I'm a very old-fashioned person.”

“You just want to be married, and control me,” he said cynically. “And if you're not married, you want to pretend you are. Well, you're not. You might as well enjoy it. And you're not going to control me.” It was the ultimate crime to him, a capital offense.

“I was enjoying it… for a minute… you spoiled it.”

“You're wasting your time,” he said, looking annoyed, as he got up and stood naked before her. “People don't play by those rules anymore. They went out with the Dark Ages.”

“Maybe so,” she said quietly, “but if so, I'm going out with them. Thanks for everything,” she said, and then walked out and closed the door. She stood in the hall for a minute, and then rang for the elevator. Part of her hoped that he would open the door and beg her to come back. And the rest of her knew that would never happen. She had learned a painful lesson. And whatever the ground rules were in Chandler Freeman's version of modern dating, Paris knew they weren't for her, and neither was he. Bixby had been right.





Chapter 20




It was the third week in March when she stopped seeing Chandler, and a full two weeks later before Bix questioned her about it. He had the feeling somehow that he was no longer calling. She had been quiet for a few days, and then seemed to be keeping unusually busy. He finally asked her about it on an evening they were working late, planning a wedding.

“Have I missed something? Or is Chandler no longer calling?”

She hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. “That would be correct. He isn't.”

“Did you two have a falling out? Or did you get tired of caviar and Ferraris?” He had a way with words, and she smiled at him. She had been upset for the first week, and she was beginning to feel better. But as well as hurt, she felt extremely foolish. She should have known better, but she hadn't. And he had never called her. He had vanished in a puff of smoke. She had learned something, but she hadn't enjoyed it. And she hated to admit it, but she missed him. He had been wonderful to her, and if nothing else, the sex had been terrific. For the first time in a year, she had felt like a woman, instead of a reject. In that sense, he had been good for her, but he had chipped away at a piece of her. Worse yet, she had given it to him.

“It didn't work out. I made a mistake.” She hesitated for a moment, and then she told Bix about it.

“The little shit. How sleazy.”

“Was it?” she asked Bix honestly. He was eight years younger than she, but he was far more experienced, and she trusted his judgment. She felt like she was in a time warp and had come from another world. And in some ways, she had.

“Yes, it was sleazy,” Bix confirmed to her. “And not very nice. That's a lot of bullshit. But there are plenty of people out there who behave like him. Men and women. It's not exclusive to either sex. They're just not very nice people. And they don't play by very nice rules. You shouldn't have to ask if a relationship is exclusive. Decent people don't want to sleep with several people at the same time. I didn't. Steven didn't. But some of the people I dated were just like Chandler. They're still out there getting laid. So what? The sad thing is they're not getting loved, and most of them aren't capable of loving anyone, not even themselves.”

“I always feel like everyone else has the instruction manual, and I don't. It made sense to him, and he was very convincing. The only problem was I wasn't convinced. I would hate myself if I lived like that. The one thing it taught me is that I don't ever want to sleep with someone again who doesn't love me. I thought he did. Or I thought he was falling in love with me, and I was falling in love with him. I don't think it was love. I think it was lust. And look what I got.”

“You got a hell of a nice handbag out of it,” he reminded her, and she laughed.

“Yeah, I did. That's a hell of a trade. My integrity for a purse.”

“You didn't sacrifice your integrity. You didn't know what was going on.”

“I thought I did. I assumed, that was the mistake.”

“Well, you won't do it again. And it broke the ice. You lost your virginity. Now you can go out there and find a nice guy.” Bix smiled at her. He admired her honesty, and was sorry Chandler had been such a horse's ass, but he wasn't surprised.

“How many frogs am I going to have to kiss first?” she asked, looking worried. She seriously questioned her own judgment.

“A few. We all did. If you get warts on your lips, you can always get them taken off.”

“I'm not sure I have the courage to do a lot of this. It really hurts,” she said honestly.

“Yes, it does, and it's depressing as hell. Dating is the shits.”

“Thank you, Peter,” she said, sounding bitter for the first time. “I can't believe he condemned me to this.” Bix nodded. That was the way it worked. One person walked off with someone else, and the other guy got tossed into the pit, and had to survive the snakes. It wasn't much fun. “I should hate him for doing this to me, but I'm not sure I do yet, or ever will. I just hope I don't miss him for the rest of my life. I still do every goddamned day,” she said, with tears in her eyes. “And I can't believe that at my age, I have to go out there like some dumb kid and date. How disgusting is that? And pathetic.”

“It's not pathetic. It's just the way it is. And even if a relationship works, sooner or later, somebody dies, and the other one is left alone, and has to start again. It's rotten, but that's life.”

“Like Steven,” she said solemnly, thinking of Bix's partner whose lover had died nine years before. “But he got lucky.” She smiled at her friend. She felt as though they had been friends for years, instead of months. “He found you.”

“Nothing's perfect,” he said cryptically, and she looked at him, wondering if they had had a fight too.

“Is something wrong?” She wanted to be there for him too, as he was for her. He had been a good friend since they'd met.

“Could be, someday. Not yet.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means no one comes out unscathed. Steven's partner died of AIDS. And he's HIV positive. It may not hit him for years, or ever turn into full-blown AIDS. But it could at some point. I knew it going in. I figured however long we had would be worth it in the end. And it has been. I don't regret a minute I've spent with him. I just want him to live forever.” There were tears in his eyes, and hers, when she came to give him a hug. They held each other for a long moment, and he smiled at her through tears. “I love him so damn much, he is such a wonderful man.”

“So are you,” she said with a lump in her throat. Life was definitely not fair.

“You know, if I were ever attracted to women, which I'm not, thank God, men are complicated enough thanks a lot… you would be my first choice.”