It Happened in L.A.: Ms Match / Shockingly Sensual / Playmates

“Have you felt this way for a long time?”

“Nope. I used to love every second of my life. I’m not even sure when it started to lose its shine. But the parties aren’t quite so fabulous, the wins don’t give me that jolt as often.”

She could tell it was true. Now that she could really see past the handsomeness, there was a sadness in his eyes. There was a decision to be made here. One that led them right off that predictable baseball-loving path. Did she want that? It seemed she did. “Come in. I’ll make us coffee.”

He smiled. “I’d like that.”

IT TOOK A BIT OF TIME to make the coffee and get settled on the couch. He sat at one end, she at the other, but since the couch was curved it made for easy conversations. She’d only put on the mood lighting and as she sat back against her pillows Gwen felt better about her decision to ask him inside.

Yesterday in the clubhouse and tonight at the bar had helped her to see Paul as a person. She’d been so ready to dismiss him as someone empty, someone like Autumn. It hadn’t been easy to admit that she had the same kind of prejudice as the people she disliked the most, but there it was.

Without knowing a lot more about him, she couldn’t say if the two of them could be friends, yet she was a lot more willing to find out. For him to admit his dissatisfaction with his life was a big deal. It made her like him more than their trip to the ball game.

“This is great,” he said, holding up his coffee mug. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Tell me something. Was there an event that got you thinking about all this?”

He didn’t seem to mind that she’d brought them round to their earlier conversation. “Nothing that stands out. Although I was listening to this guy who wrote a book about happiness.”

“Dan something?”

“Yeah. Dan Gilbert. Harvard guy, but I won’t hold that against him. He said that the things we think are going to make us happy usually don’t. Not for the long run.”

“Right, right. That we tend to use our imaginations to predict the things that will make us happy, when we’d be better off using outside resources. Other people who’ve gone through the experience.”

“That’s it,” he said. “The part that got me was how he talked about how our world is built on the supposition that more material goods equals more happiness. Not that I hadn’t heard that before, but it’s a damn hard concept to dismiss. Anyway, he also said that the happiest people were those with strong social connections. Family and friends. Like you have.”

“I’m not close to my family at all.”

“No, but you’ve created an alternative in your coworkers. I see how you all interact. It’s not like that for me.”

“Because you’re the boss?”

“That’s some of it, but not all. I suppose I could have made an effort to make friends with other CEOs.”

“But?”

He put down his cup. “Let me tell you about my poker night. I go once every month or so, if I can. Nothing too formal because we’re all busy, successful guys. We’ve known each other for years. And every single time I’m there, it ends up being a pissing contest.”

“Kind of like playing baseball trivia?”

He sighed. Picked his mug up. “Yeah. Kind of like that.”

“What would you want it to be?”

He took a sip first, then said, “I watched Holly play tonight. Half the time, she didn’t even bother to select an answer, even though she had a one-in-five chance of being right. She got too involved in talking, or laughing, or just watching. And I don’t think it’s just because she didn’t have a chance at winning. She was there to socialize. She won because she was there.”

“I don’t see that as a solution for you. There’s no way you could go to that bar on Monday night and ignore the play. You’re too competitive.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be. Not all the time, anyhow. Maybe I’d like to go to a party and not see how many new contacts I can score. I enjoyed yesterday so much, I didn’t care who won. Well, not much. I wanted you to have a great day. That was it. The whole goal.”

She felt something inside, another shift she hadn’t expected. She mattered to him. Everything he’d done since the party had shown her that, and yet she still found it unbelievable. “You did an extraordinarily good job.”

“I wasn’t…Thanks. The point is, I couldn’t tell you the last time my agenda wasn’t about winning. And I suppose I did win, but it was different. I felt fantastic last night. After I dropped you off, I went home. I read, watched a little TV, went to bed. I haven’t felt as good or slept as well in ages.”

“Wow. Maybe you should keep doing that.”

His grin was teasing and warm. “Taking you to Dodger games?”

She smiled back. “Stepping outside your comfort zone. Building a new social network.”

“I don’t know. It’s not easy.”

“I have to give it to you. You’re sure trying.”

“I am. It’s so unlike me. This isn’t the kind of thing I do. I’ve never had to. I was always part of whatever social group I wanted. All through school I had the right friends, I was in the right sports, the top fraternity. This is outside of my experience.”

“That’s what I don’t get. Why now?”

He shook his head, then his gaze caught hers. He stared at her for a long time, the expression on his face changing from confusion to something more intense and unsettling.

“What?” She broke the connection, suddenly uncomfortable with how he was making her feel.

“I think about you a lot.”

She had to put her mug down before it slipped from her fingers. “Me?”

“Yes, you. It would be a lot smoother of me to make something up, but I don’t want to do that. I’m not on sure ground here, so forgive me. I don’t think I’ve known anyone like you.”

“I’m not that unique.”

“I doubt it. Maybe the world is filled with people who are pragmatic and sensible and sure of themselves without having to win all the time. You love sports, but you don’t play games.”

Paul stood up and she could see the tension in his body. His shoulders were tight; he rubbed his hands together as he paced on her pale Berber carpet.

She felt badly for him. This had to be difficult, questioning the dream life he’d built for himself. “Do something, then. Who was it that said if you always do what you always did, you’ll always get what you always got?”

He stopped, came back to the couch, only this time he sat right next to her. His expression was expectant and the scent of him faint but familiar, reminding her of the night they’d slept together. “I am doing something. I’m here. I keep coming back to you. But I know you don’t want me.”

She looked at her hands. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Not that you said it out loud, but I know you don’t believe I’m someone worth knowing.”

“I…” That was exactly what she’d thought, but if she could do it again, she’d have responded differently.

He touched her, his hand warm on hers. It made her look at him again, to see the sincerity in his gaze. “Give me a chance.”

She had to swallow the lump in her throat. The unsteady beat of her heart. “I don’t know what that means.”