and　most　familiar　topic：　him　。
  “You’re　a　rather　deft　liar；　Andrea。　To　an　untrained　ear　that　almost
  sounded　believable；　but　you　know　what　they　say；　don’t　you？　You　can’t
  bullshit　a　bullshitter。　Don’t　worry；　though。　I’ll　let　you　get　away
  with　it　this　time。”　I　opened　my　mouth　to　deny　the　accusation；　but
  instead　I　just　laughed。　A　perceptive　one　indeed。　“Let　me　get　right
  to　the　point　here；　because　I’m　about　to　get　on　a　plane　for　D。C。　and
  security　doesn’t　look　all　too　happy　that　I’m　walking　through　a　metal
  detector　while　talking　on　the　phone。　Do　you　have　plans　for　Saturday
  night？”
  I　hated　when　people　phrased　their　questions　that　way；　asked　if　you
  had　plans　before　they　told　you　what　they　had　in　mind。　Did　his
  girfriend　need　someone　to　run　errands　for　her　and　he　thought　I　fit
  the　bill？　Or　maybe　he　needed　someone　to　walk　his　dog　while　he　gave
  yet　another　eight…hour…long　interview　to　theNew　York　Times　？　I　was
  considering　what　nonmittal　way　I　could　answer　that　question　when
  he　said；　“So；　I　have　a　reservation　at　Babbo　this　Saturday。　Nine
  o’clock。　A　bunch　of　friends　will　be　there；　too；　mostly　magazine
  editors　and　pretty　interesting　people。　An　editor　fromThe　Buzz；　and　a
  couple　writers　fromThe　New　Yorker　。　Good　crowd。　You　up　for　it？”　At
  that　exact　moment；　an　ambulance　roared　past　me　with　its　siren
  wailing；　lights　flashing　in　a　fruitless　attempt　to　speed　through　the
  hopelessly　gridlocked　traffic。　As　usual；　the　drivers　ignored　the
  ambulance　and　it　sat　at　the　red　light　like　all　the　other　vehicles。
  Had　he　just　asked　me　out？　Yes；　I　thought　that’s　exactly　what　had
  just　happened。　He　was　asking　me　out！　He　was　asking　me　out。　Christian
  Collinsworth　was　asking　me　on　a　date—a　Saturday…night　date；　to　be
  specific；　and　to　Babbo；　where　he　just　so　happened　to　have　a
  prime…time　reservation　with　a　group　of　smart；　interesting　people；
  people　just　like　him。　Never　even　mind　theNew　Yorkerwriters！　I　racked
  my　brain；　trying　to　remember　if　I’d　mentioned　to　him　at　the　party
  that　Babbo　was　the　one　restaurant　I　most　wanted　to　try　in　New　York；
  that　I　loved　Italian　and　knew　how　much　Miranda　loved　it　and　I　was
  dying　to　go。　I’d　even　thought　about　blowing　a　week’s　pay　on　a　meal
  and　had　called　to　make　a　reservation　for　Alex　and　me；　but　they’d
  been　booked　solid　for　the　next　five　months。　I　hadn’t　been　asked　on　a
  date　by　anyone　other　than　Alex　in　three　years。
  “Um；　Christian；　golly；　I’d　love　to；”　I　started；　trying　to　forget
  immediately　that　I’d　just　said　“golly。”Golly！　Who　said　that？　The
  scene　where　Baby　proudly　announces　to　Johnny　that　she’d　carried　a
  watermelon　flashed　to　mind；　but　I　pushed　it　back　and　willed　myself
  to　forge　forward　despite　the　humiliation。　“I’d　really　love　to”—yes；
  you　idiot；　you　just　said　that；　try　to　make　some　progress　here—“but　I
  just　can’t　do　it。　I；　um；　I　already　have　plans　for　Saturday。”　A　good
  response　overall；　I　thought。　I　was　shouting　over　the　noise　of　the
  siren；　but　I　thought　I　still　sounded　somewhat　dignified。　No　need　to
  be　available　for　a　date　that　was　only　two　days　away；　and　no　real
  need　to　reveal　existence　of　boyfriend　。　。　。　after　all；　it　really
  wasn’t　any　of　his　Business。　Right？
  “Do　you　really　have　plans；　Andrea；　or　do　you　think　your　boyfriend
  would　disapprove　of　you　going　out　with　another　man？”　He　was　Fishing；
  I　could　tell。
  “Either　way　has　nothing　to　do　with　you；”　I　said　prissily；　and　I
  actually　rolled　my　eyes　at　myself。　I　crossed　Third　Avenue　without
  noticing　that　the　light　was　against　me　and　almost　got　mowed　down　by
  a　minivan。
  “OK；　well；　I’ll　let　you　off　this　time。　But　I’ll　be　asking　again。　And
  I　think　next　time　you’ll　say　yes。”
  “Oh；　really？　What　gives　you　that　impression？”　The　confidence　that
  had　seemed　so　sexy　before　was　now　starting　to　sound　a　whole　lot　like
  arrogance。　The　only　problem　was　that　it　made　him　sound　even　sexier。
  “Just　a　hunch；　Andrea；　just　a　hunch。　And　no　need　to　worry　that
  pretty　little　head　of　yours—or　your　boyfriend’s—I　was　just　extending
  a　friendly　invitation　for　a　good　meal　and　good　pany。　Maybe　he’d
  like　to　join　us；　Andrea？　Your　boyfriend。　He　must　be　a　great　guy；　I’d
  really　like　to　meet　him。”
  “No！”　I　almost　shouted；　horrified　at　the　thought　of　the　two　of　them
  sitting　across　a　table　from　each　other；　each　so　amazing　in　such
  radically　different　ways。　I’d　be　ashamed　for　Christian　to　see　Alex’s
  wholesomeness；　his　do…gooder　ways。　To　Christian；　Alex　would　seem
  like　a　naï；ve　hick。　And　I’d　be　even　more　ashamed　for　Alex　to　see；
  with　his　own　eyes；　all　the　ugly　things　I　found　so　incredibly
  attractive　about　Christian：　the　style；　the　cockiness；　a
  self…assuredness　so　rock…solid　it　seemed　impossible　to　insult　him。
  “No。”　I　laughed　or；　rather；　forced　a　laugh；　as　I　tried　to　make　it
  sound　casual。　“I’m　not　so　sure　that’s　a　good　idea。　Although　I’m　sure
  he’d　just　love　to　meet　you；　too。”
  He　laughed　with　me；　but　it　had　turned　mocking；　patronizing。　“I　was
  just　kidding；　Andrea。　I’m　sure　your　boyfriend’s　a　really　great　guy；
  but　I’m　not　particularly　interested　in　meeting　him。”
  “Well；　of　course。　Sure。　I　mean；　I　knew　what　you—”
  “Listen；　I’ve　got　to　run。　Why　don’t　you　give　me　a　call　if　you　change
  your　mind　。　。　。　or　your　‘plans；’　OK？　Offer’s　still　open。　Oh；　and
  have　a　great　day。”　And　before　I　could　say　another　word；　he’d　hung
  up。
  What　the　hell　had　just　happened？　I　ran　through　it　again：　Hot　Smart
  Writer　had　somehow　found　my　cell　number；　called　it；　and　fully　asked
  me　on　a　date　for　Saturday　night　to　Hot　Trendy　Restaurant。　I　wasn’t
  clear　whether　he　knew　ahead　of　time　if　I　had　a　boyfriend　or　not；　but
  he　didn’t　appear　particularly　daunted　by　the　information。　The　only
  thing　I　knew　for　sure　was　that　I’d　spent　way　too　long　chatting　on
  the　phone；　a　fact　confirmed　by　a　quick　glance　at　my　watch。　It　had
  been　thirty…two　minutes　since　I’d　left　the　office；　longer　than　the
  time　it　usually　took　me　to　get　lunch　and　e　back。
  I　stashed　the　phone　and　realized　I　had　already　made　it　to　the
  restaurant。　I　pulled　open　the　lumbering　wooden　door　and　stepped　into
  the　hushed；　darkened　dining　room。　Even　though　every　table　was　filled
  with　midtown　bankers　and　lawyers　gnawing　on　their　favorite　steaks；
  there　was　barely　any　noise　at　all；　as　if　the　plush　carpeting　and
  manly　color　scheme　just　absorbed　all　the　sound。
  “Andrea！”　I　heard　Sebastian　cry　from　the　hostess　stand。　He　beelined
  toward　me　as　though　I　might　be　holding　the　last　of　a　life…saving
  medication。　“We’re　just　all　so　glad　you’re　here！”　Two　young　girls　in
  crisp　gray　skirt　suits　nodded　seriously　behind　him。
  “Oh；　really？　Why　is　that？”　I　could　never　help　myself　toying　with
  Sebastian；　just　a　little。　He　was　such　an　unbelievable　kiss…ass。
  He　leaned　over　conspiratorially；　his　excitement　palpable。　“Well；　you
  know　how　the　entire　staff　here　at　Smith　and　Wollensky　feels　about
  Ms。　Priestly；　don’t　you？Runway　is　such　a　gorgeous　magazine；　what
  with　all　the　beautiful　shoots　and　stunning　style　and；　of　course；
  fascinating；　literate　articles。　We　all　just　adore　it！”
  “Literate　articles；　huh？”　I　asked；　suppressing　the　huge　smile　that
  was　threatening　to　emerge。　He　nodded　proudly　and　turned　as　one　of
  the　suited　helpers　tapped　him　on　the　shoulder　to　hand　him　a　tote
  bag。
  He　literally　cried　out　in　joy。　“Ah…hah！　Here　we　have　it；　one
  perfectly　prepared　lunch　for　one　perfect　editor—and　one　perfect
  assistant；”　he　added　while　winking　at　me。
  “Thank　you；　Sebastian；　we　both　appreciate　it。”　I　opened　the　natural
  cotton　tote；　a　bag　that　looked　just　like　thoseüber　…cool　ones　from
  the　Strand　that　all　the　NYU　students　slung　over　their　shoulder；　but
  without　the　logo；　and　made　sure　everything　was　right。
  One…and…a…quarter…pound　ribeye；　bleeding　all　over　the　container；　so
  raw　it　just　might　not　have　been　cooked　at　all。　Check。　Two　baked
  potatoes　the　size　of　small　kittens；　each　steaming　hot。　Check。　One
  small　side　container　of　smashed　potatoes；　made　soft　with　lots　of
  heavy　cream　and　extra　butter。　Check。　Precisely　eight　perfect　stalks
  of　asparagus　with　the　tips　looking　plump　and　juicy　and　the　ends
  shaved　to　a　clean；　white　finish。　Check。　There　was　also　a　metal　gravy
  boat　full　of　softened　butter；　a　pinch…box　overflowing　with　grainy
  kosher　salt；　a　wooden…handled　steak　knife；　and　a　crisp　white　linen
  napkin；　which　today　was　folded　into　the　shape　of　a　pleated　skirt。
  How　adorable。　Sebastian　waited　to　see　if　I　liked　it。
  “Very　nice；　Sebastian；”　I　said　as　though　I　were　praising　a　puppy　for
  going　number　two　outside。　“You　really　outdid　yourself　today。”
  He　beamed　and　then　look