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“No.”
“C’mon Elana…”
“Max, no. I am going home, and I am certainly not going on a date with someone who called me ‘thick,’” she snapped hotly, glaring at him as the cashier made a choking noise.
“Inferno, you didn’t…”
“Oh hey, Delilah,” Max said absently – and Elana looked between him and the pregnant cashier before rolling her eyes.
“You are disgusting.”
“What’d I do?” he wailed in disbelief. “I mean, usually I’ve done something bad to get treated like this or to run laps, but I’ve done nothing but drool over you and compliment you.”
“Being called ‘thick’ is not a compliment.”
“From my point of view, it is, because thick girls gimme something to hang onto when…”
“INFERNO!”
“MAX!''
Both women yelled out at the same time and then looked at each other before Elana swiped her bank card, quickly paying.
“I’m not having this discussion with you and maybe you should look up the definition of what ‘thick’ is and decide if that’s a compliment before you use that description on another woman. They might not be as nice as I am.”
“Gosh, you're hot when you are angry…”
“Good night,” she retorted, grabbing her bags and leaving him there at the register… only to see him following her toward her car. “Stop it, Max. Stop following me.”
“How am I supposed to get your phone number?”
“You’re not.”
“But I want to ask you out…”
“Fine. You did. I am saying ‘No’…” she quipped in short bursts and unlocked her car door, setting the food on the passenger seat.
“Elana, let me take you to dinner and make this up to you. It’s a misunderstanding and…”
“Max,” she sighed heavily and looked at him. “One thing that I do before making a request of someone is research. I find out what I can about a client, interview people that could corroborate their story, and carefully build a case to prove or disprove whatever their case is.”
“Okay…” he said warily, looking at her.
“Never in my life have I made a request of someone and expected it to work, because they are hot or they want to sleep with me,” she continued. “You’ve got the wrong girl, the wrong type of girl, and I’m not looking for a lousy lay.”
And heard him suck in his breath, his face aghast in disbelief as she continued.
“And if you think that this,” she said, pointing up and down his form, “Is what women want – some guy to be macho, arrogant, and make sexual advances at them?” and paused dramatically, taking a breath. “You would be very wrong.”
“Wait,” he began, and she looked at him, seeing that he’d been completely emasculated by her words. Those brown eyes looked completely bewildered, confused, and lost. “What do women want then? What do you want?” he asked.
“I’m not looking for a boy or rowdy teenager who can’t focus past his pants. I’m searching for a man who knows how to treat a woman right. A partner, someone who is committed and sincere, someone who knows what a relationship is.”
They both stood there looking at each other before she looked away.
“I’ve got to go home and clean up a mess in my kitchen. It was nice to see you, Max,” she began and hesitated. “Have a good life and try not to end up in real handcuffs. I don’t think I could represent you due to a conflict of interest.”
“So you’re interested in me?”
