put them all in their place. Why did your marriages fail? In ten words or less?”
“I married a French race car driver when I was twenty-one. He got killed in a race before our daughter was born. That’s my daughter Sophie. Then I married a moderately famous actor, Jasper Jones, and we got divorced in less than a year. He had an affair with one of his leading ladies. We had my youngest daughter, Carole. That’s it.”
“At least you married interesting people. I married a very dull woman I met at school. She ran off with my best friend. She’s gotten fat, and now he’s bald, and unfortunately they’re very happy, which proves that bad-looking people deserve each other. And I’ve never married again. I was cured. I lived with a woman for about six years, but we never married. She then became a nun, so I can say that I’ve driven at least one woman into the convent. I thought it was a bit rude, but she was a nice girl. I’ve sought out atheists ever since. Are you religious?”
“Sometimes.” Something occurred to her then. “Is this a date? Or are you taking me out as my agent?”
“I’m not sure. What do you think? Which would you prefer? You’re a very beautiful woman, even if you are a bit neurotic and very insecure, so either one would work for me.”
“Are you married?”
“No. Never again.”
“Living with anyone?”
“Unfortunately not. I’m very messy so no one wants to live with me, and I have a dog that snores.”
“Dating anyone?”
“Not lately. Dry spell actually.”
“Okay, then maybe it’s a date.”
“I agree. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, we can get off on the right foot. Would you like to have dinner?”
“Tonight?” Liz looked startled.
“Or another time, if you have other plans.”
“I don’t. I just wasn’t expecting to have dinner.” Nor a date. But she liked him. A lot. And he was gorgeous.
“Sometimes the element of surprise is good. Sushi?”
“That sounds good. What kind of dog?”
“English bulldog. His name is Rupert. After my uncle. He looks like him.”
“And let me guess.” She had picked up on the fact that he was more than likely an aristocrat, and she had noticed he was wearing a crest on a ring. “Eton and Cambridge.”
“Eton, Oxford, Cambridge. Right, you’ve got that down. And I hated Eton. Very un-English of me. I got beaten up all the time. I was small as a child, only got tall later. They sent me when I was seven.”
“How awful. I hate the English system.”
“So do I. That’s why I never had children. One of many reasons. Why have them if you’re going to send them away when they’re practically in diapers?”
“I agree.”
“My brothers all loved it.”
“What are the other reasons why you never had children?”
“They remember everything you do wrong, blame you forever for all your mistakes, and hate you for everything you do.”
“Sounds like my older brother,” Liz said, laughing. “He’s still mad at my mother for not being around enough when he was a child, and she was always working.”
“And do you hate her too?”
“No, I love her. She did her best, and my grandmother took care of us, and she was terrific.”
“Women are much more forgiving. One must always have daughters if one has children. I come from a family of five boys. What do your daughters do?”
“One is finishing a master’s in computer science at MIT, and then she’s going to work for my mother. And my youngest daughter just moved to L.A. to work for her father and stepmother, who produce movies.”
“The actor is now producing?” He remembered, he was paying attention.
“Yes, he is. Or his wife is. He works for her.”
“And your mother seems to be employing the entire family. Good thing she didn’t give you a job, or you wouldn’t have had time to write the book.”
“I’m working on another one now, but it’s just in the early stages.” He looked pleased to hear it, paid for their drinks then, and took her to a small sushi restaurant where the meal was delicious. And they talked for several hours about the book business, how he’d gotten into it, and his boyhood in England. He told her about his allegedly very eccentric family and made her laugh. They had a very good time together, and she dropped him off at his apartment after dinner. He lived at the Dakota, on Central Park West, which was a famous old building, full of well-known people and