Page 13 of Right Where I Want You

Garth pointed at Sebastian. “May the Fifth Avenue department stores be withyou.”

“Lastly, Garth, you’ve prepared talking points for these guys limited to the day’s headlines, exotic travel, and healthy food andhabits.”

Garth shrugged. “Women love to talk about wellness andshit.”

“You tell them never to bring up video games, math, or even books or movies unless they’ve familiarized themselves with somethingModern Mandeems ‘sexy.’ Basically, you tell them how to be someoneelse.”

“I don’t see the problem,” Garth said, cinching his eyebrows. “They’regeeks.”

Was short and squat Garth with his mid-forties receding hairline and custard on his tie being deliberately obtuse? Or was it that hard for him to grasp that a relationship built on lies was doomed to fail? I set the magazine on the table. “The termgeekhas been rehabbed. Look at contemporary film and TV—geek is the new chic. Some women want a more sensitive, adept man.Somewomen find geeks incrediblysexy.”

“Yeah,” Justin agreed. “They’re called geek-ettes.”

I sighed, trying to decide where to start. “There’s a difference between bettering yourself to meet a partner and flat-out deceit. What happens once he’s used up his one outfit? Or when his date wants to cook him the broccoli rabe he claimed tolove?”

“He’ll eat the damn broccoli rabe whether he likes it or not,” Sebastian said. “Everyone pretends to be someone else when dating. Have you ever been onTinder?”

“Aside from making broad, false generalizations, you’re shaming these guys for being themselves,” I said. “And you’re setting them up forfailure.”

“Albert here.” A hand shot up in greeting, then gestured down the conference table at a heavy-set, bespectacled man with floppy, brown hair. “If you know of a better way to get Derek in IT a date, we’re allears.”

Derek—I presumed—threw a balled-up napkin at Albert. “I have a girlfriend, youtool.”

I rubbed my eyebrow, thinking. “Take my cousin Cyndi for instance. She’s blonde with blue eyes, five-foot-eight, and does commercial modeling on the side. Her real job is a data scientist for the FBI, but nights and weekends, she’s hooked onRed Dead Redemption. I’ll bet she’d love to talk tech with you,Derek.”

“She wouldn’t give him the time of day,” Sebastiansaid.

“And whynot?”

“Because she sounds like the perfectwoman.”

The comment shouldn’t have stung, but at five-foot-two with reddish hair that needed taming each morning, and coordination that had even failed me atMario Kart, I was nothing like Cyndi. If Cyndi existed outside my imagination, that was. But was she the kind of girl who made Sebastian forget his morning meetings? And why did it matter to me? It didn’t. Itshouldn’t.

“My point is,” I said, powering through my self-doubt, “this ‘how-to’ doesn’t take the woman into account at all. You need to identify interests for finding common ground. A woman—feel free to take notes—is much more likely than a man to fall in love based on proximity and personality rather thanlooks.”

“That explains why Sebastian’s perpetually single,” Justinsaid.

“So you think I’m good-looking?” Sebastian askedhim.

“I’ve heard that fromwomen.”

“Then at least I’ve got that going for me,” Sebastian said. “You’re just ugly andboring.”

“A great sense of humor trumps all,” I interjected. “With that, a man can win over almost any woman. So once our ‘geek’ has this information, he’ll enter the interaction with a lot more confidence no matter how he looks. Even if he playsBattlefrontII.”

Some of the men laughed. “He just has to find hisBattlefrontprincess,” Albertsaid.

“Exactly. Common interest.” I was still fuzzy on the details, but my research had shown that the recent release in theStar Warsfranchise had been boycotted by true gamers. I’d spent part of last week brushing up on my references so I could at least pretend to be in the know. “Then we slap on a headline like, ‘How to Meet Your PrincessLeia.’”

“‘How to Get Leia-d,’” Albertsuggested.

Justin perked up. “How about ‘Your Guide to Meeting a GeekGoddess’?”

I laughed. “Even better. I’m not here to brainstorm cover lines. I’ll leave that stuff toyou.”

“So we have full creative control over headlines?” Sebastianasked.

I smiled. “Of course not. The cover is the face ofModern Man. I’m here to make sure people are not only picking up those issues but becoming repeat customers—and telling their friends aboutit.”