They got back in his car at six o'clock, and she was thinking to herself that she hated to see the day end. It was almost as though he read her mind. He turned to her with a hopeful expression. “How about if I barbecue some steaks for us on my terrace? How does that sound to you, Maggie?”
“Extremely good,” she said, beaming at him. He said he had some in the fridge.
She had only seen buildings like the one he lived in in movies. The doorman greeted them on the way in, and smiled at her. She was a pretty woman, and people looked at her everywhere they went. Adam pressed the elevator button marked Penthouse, and as soon as he let her into the apartment, she stood there in silence, staring at the view.
“Oh my God,” she said, just as she had about the Ferrari. “Just look at that.” He was on the thirty-second floor, and he had a wraparound terrace complete with hot tub, deck chairs, and barbecue. “This is a movie,” she said, staring at him, dumbfounded. “How did this happen to me?”
“Just lucky, I guess.” He teased her. The thing that made him sad for her, now that he knew her better, was that it hadn't happened to her. It had happened to him. After dinner, she would have to go back to the miserable tenement where she lived. He hated the realities of her life, for her sake. She deserved so much more than fate had dished out to her. Some things really weren't fair. All he could do was give her a pleasant evening, feed her well, spend some time together, and send Maggie back to her own world. Nothing he did would change the stark realities for her, but the funny thing was, she didn't seem to mind. She didn't have a jealous bone in her body, and whatever facet of his life she saw or heard about, she was happy for him.
Maggie was a totally different kind of woman from anyone he had ever met before. She looked like all the others, but absolutely nothing about her was the same. She was kind and gentle and funny, and everything about her was real. She was smart, and enjoyed sparring with him. And much to his delight, she thought he walked on water. The other women he went out with all wanted to use him. They wanted wardrobes, jewelry, charge cards, apartments, new cars, plastic surgery, and introductions for jobs or parts in movies. All the women he knew appeared to have multiple agendas. Maggie seemed as though all she wanted was to be with him and share a good time. There was an irresistible quality of innocence about her in contrast to all the women who had crossed his path in the past several years.
She made a big salad while he got the steaks out of the fridge and lit the barbecue. The steaks were huge and made an enormous meal, and afterward, they ate ice cream in cones on the terrace and dripped it all over themselves while they laughed at each other. Maggie had strawberry ice cream all over her feet, but didn't seem to care.
“Here,” Adam said helpfully, “stick them in the hot tub. No one will ever know.” He pulled the lid off for her, and the water was bubbling and warm. It was big enough for at least a dozen people, and she sat on the edge, stuck her feet in, and giggled.
“You must give a lot of wild parties,” Maggie said, looking at him, as she sat on the edge of the hot tub in her denim skirt and pink T-shirt. She looked more than ever like a little kid.
“What makes you say that?” he answered noncommittally. He never liked talking about the other women in his life, and he thought Maggie was about to ask him about that.
“Look at this setup,” she said, glancing around and then back at him. “Hot tub, penthouse, terrace, barbecue, great apartment, killer view. Hell, if I lived in a place like this, I'd have friends over all the time.” She hadn't gone at all in the direction he expected.
“Sometimes I do,” he said honestly. “Sometimes I like being here by myself. I work hard, sometimes it's nice to just chill out.” She nodded. When she got home from work at night, she felt that way too. And then he added with a gentle look, “I'm having a good time being here with you.”
“Me too,” she said simply, watching him from where she sat. “How come you don't want to get remarried?”
“How do you know that?” He looked puzzled.
“You said it on the phone last night,” she explained, and he nodded. He had been so sleepy much of the time that he had forgotten a lot of what he'd said. All he remembered was how nice it had been to talk to Maggie. “Don't you want more kids? You're young enough to have them.” It was the kind of exploration most women made with him, and never liked the answers they got. But he was always honest with them. He believed in truth in advertising, whether or not the women chose to believe him. Most of them didn't. He just became a bigger challenge once he told them the truth.
“I like the two I've got. I don't need to get married. I don't want more kids. And marriage wasn't such a great experience for me. I have a lot more fun being single than I ever did being married.”
“I'll bet you do,” Maggie said, laughing at him. “So would any guy with all the toys you've got.” She was the first woman who had ever acknowledged that to him. Most of them tried to convince him that marriage would be better. Maggie didn't. She seemed to think he was right.
“That's kind of how I see it,” he agreed with her. “Why give up all this for one woman who could disappoint you and make you unhappy?” Maggie nodded. He couldn't even imagine one who would not disappoint him and might make him happy. That seemed sad to her.
“Do you have a lot of girlfriends?” She suspected he did. He looked like the kind of man who would. If nothing else, the Ferrari said he was a pretty racy guy.
“Sometimes,” he said honestly again. “I don't like to be tied down. My freedom means a lot to me.” She nodded. She liked the fact that he didn't try to hide who he was. It was all open and easy to see. “Sometimes I don't go out with anyone for a while.”
“And now?” she asked with a look of mischief. “Lots, or none at all, or just a few?”
He smiled at her from where he sat. “Are we filling out a questionnaire again?” She had asked him a lot of questions the night before too. It seemed to be her style. “I'm not seeing anyone particular right now.”
“Are you auditioning?” she teased, looking more womanly than she had before. She was a beautiful girl. In broad daylight, he could see it more clearly than he had the night they met.
“Are you applying for the job?”
“Maybe,” she said honestly. “I'm not sure.”
“What about you?” he asked her quietly. “Are you seeing someone?”
“Nope. I haven't dated anyone in a year. The last guy I went out with turned out to be a drug dealer and wound up in jail. He seemed like a real nice guy for a while. I met him at Pier 92.”
“I'm not dealing drugs, if you're worried about that,” he reassured her. “Everything you see, I made from the sweat of my brow.”
“I wasn't worried about that with you.” He got up then, and went to put some music on. The evening seemed to be taking a romantic turn. When he came back, she asked him another question, one that was important to her. “What if we go out with each other one day? Would you be going out with other women at the same time?”
“I might. I won't put you at risk, if that's what you're worried about. I'm careful and I had an AIDS test recently.”
“So did I,” Maggie said matter-of-factly. She'd had it after the drug dealer went to jail.
“If you're asking if I would promise to be totally exclusive to you, Maggie, probably not. At least not at first. Where it goes after that, who knows? I like keeping my options open, and at your age, so should you.” She nodded. She didn't love what she was hearing, but it made sense to her too, and at least he was honest. He wasn't going to make promises and then cheat on her. But he was going to see other people. And so could she. “Even if we were dating, I like having separate lives. I've been single for a long time, nearly eleven years, and as far as I know, it's going to stay that way. I don't want to get all tangled up in someone else's life.”