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“Your way of dating doesn’t sound any fun. No romance.”
“Jason says I should be looking for spark.”
“Jason?” Beck looked at Marsie over her cup. “Is that the janitor guy at your office?”
“Building manager is a better word for it. He’s the all-around fix-it guy. He manages repairs and contractors. He doesn’t clean.”
“And you have coffee with him?”
“You don’t have to sound so surprised.” Marsie sat back, a little insulted. “It’s not like I’m a snob.”
Beck raised an eyebrow. “Would you date him?”
“I know where this is going, so don’t think you can trap me with an argument. No, I wouldn’t date Jason. I don’t think we’re compatible in the long run.”
“Why?”
“Beck,” Marsie said, exasperated, “what would we have to talk about after work? Would he understand the intricacies of research and grant applications?”
“Would your ER doc? Or what about an intellectual property attorney. Or an engineer.” Beck shook her head. “Call it whatever you want. I call it being a snob.”
Marsie didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything. Beck wasn’t right, was she? Her algorithm took lots of characteristics into account. Jason failed ones other than career, too. Education, for starters. And height.
Oh, God, I am a snob. Education and career. She was judging him on education and career, not on personal characteristics like that he was interesting and thoughtful.
“What do you talk about now, when you get coffee?” Beck asked.
It was Marsie’s turn to shrug. “Everything, really. Depends on the day and what we’ve got going on.”
“Why don’t you ask him out? He’s not married, is he?”
“No, but I’m not his type, either.”
“Oh, is he also a snob? Does he not like smart women?”
Marsie waved off that comment. “No. He doesn’t pass my algorithm, but he’s looking for spark, and apparently we don’t have it.” A week later and that comment still stung.
“How do you know this?”
“We’ve decided that we’re dating buddies. And we’ve got a bet going on. He’s looking for spark and I’m judging by the algorithm. First person to be in a committed relationship for three months wins.”
“Huh.”
“What’s the ‘huh’?”
“Well, my husband just moved out, so I’m not the best judge of romance right now, but it sounds to me like there’s more going on with you two than just coffee buddies.”
“We have no spark,” Marsie said, repeating Jason’s reason. It was as stupid as hers, but at least she didn’t sound like a snob when she said it.
“Yeah,” her friend said, pulling the word out long, like taffy. “Is that what he said before you told him that he didn’t fit your algorithm?”
Marsie didn’t answer. It didn’t matter who’d hurt whose feelings first.
Did it?
Beck looked pensive for a moment. “Do you think you have spark?”
“I don’t even know what spark is.” Marsie sounded frustrated because she was. Spark felt like she was making one of the most important decisions of her life based on a person’s aura or horoscope or some other semi-magic she didn’t believe in.
“You keep saying that it was the wrong time to kiss Trevor. Would you kiss Jason?”
Yes. “We work together.”
“Oh, please. That’s a lame excuse. He’s not your boss. You’re not his boss. Hell, you probably aren’t anywhere close to being on the same org chart.”
“Well, no,” she acknowledged. “But I can’t imagine I would ever feel comfortable locking lips with someone at work.”
“Grrr…” Beck said, throwing up her hands. It was a good thing the teacup was empty. “We’ve been friends a long time, so here’s how I understand this conversation. You think Jason’s hot. You enjoy his company. But you’ve decided that you aren’t compatible for the long term based on…based on some criteria you decided are more important than actually liking the guy, so you won’t ask him out on a date to see if more is possible.”
