Getting Nowhere
Home Up Miami

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHT:

GETTING NOWHERE

Written by Rick Archer 

 

 
 


APRIL 2001

THREE SUNDAYS IN APRIL

 

On the following Sunday, Lawrence returned to class.  When I saw them come in together, I was pleased to note I did not feel possessive.  At this point in life, I knew how to guard my heart.  Or at least I thought I did.  I could handle myself with Ashley, but Marla was another story. 

Whenever I saw Marla enter the studio on Mondays, my heart would skip a beat.  I still could not figure out how we could laugh and tease during class back in March, but that energy had never extended beyond class.  I kept hoping Marla would stick around for Monday Practice Night and give me a chance to ask her to dance.  No such luck.  However, Marla did occasionally stick around for a song or two with a guy friend from class.  She would dance both songs with him, then immediately leave by herself.  What was I supposed to do, cut in?  Tackle her as she went out the door?  Chase her to her car, fall on my knees and beg?  Why bother.  Watching Marla leave, I cursed my inability to arouse her interest.  It was easier just to give up. 

Meanwhile, back to Ashley.  When Ashley showed up with Lawrence at Practice Night the following week, she doted on him like the King of Siam.  They looked so happy together I assumed Ashley had gotten her wish.  When Ashley shot me a quick grin, I was more certain my hunch was right.  Lawrence and Ashley only stayed briefly.  They danced three songs, then called it a night.  I assumed they left early because they had something better to do. 

To my surprise, ten minutes later Ashley returned.  I noticed she had reapplied lip stick.  Interesting.  Assuming Ashley and Lawrence had come in separate cars, Lawrence must have left first.  If so, why had Ashley returned?  She gave me a quick glance, winked, then headed off in another direction.  Hmm.  Does this mean what I think it means?  The moment she put her purse down, Ashley received a swift offer to dance.  Women with her kind of looks don't get ignored for long.  Ashley danced five songs, each with a different partner.  To the casual eye, no one would ever connect us.  Given the clandestine nature of our relationship, I was unwilling to let anyone spot my interest.  I paid Ashley no heed and continued to dance with other women.  Ashley didn't look worried.  She was a very confident woman.  She knew I would get around to her eventually and so I did.  Towards the end of the evening I made my way over.  The song was a Waltz with an appropriate message for both of us.  While Ashley thought of Lawrence, I thought of Marla.

I'm dancing your memory away in the arms of a stranger
For now I'm okay, my heart's out of danger.
Tonight while I'm waltzing as the band softly plays,
I'm getting by, one song at a time, dancing your memory away

As I walked Ashley back to her chair, she asked, "Want some company later on?"

I smiled and nodded.  "Sure."

 

To avoid suspicion, Ashley left immediately.  She was waiting in her car when I got home.  I was not sure what the situational ethics called for.  Was this liaison right or wrong?  As for myself, I had little invested.  If our secret liaison was revealed, the most likely person to get hurt would be Ashley or Lawrence.  Besides, this was her idea.  I was just along for the ride.  Since no commitments had been made, I figured the law of the jungle prevailed.  I'm Tarzan, you're Ashley.  Let's find a vine and swing.  I figured Ashley was old enough to know what she was doing, so I did not feel guilty.  Apparently neither did Ashley.  She had a big smile on her face as she got out of the car.  When we got inside, I thought it might be nice to share a glass of wine. 

"So how are things going with Lawrence?"

"Oh, I don't know.  We're making progress, but still no luck.  At least we're smooching.  That's what we were doing in the parking lot tonight before Lawrence decided to leave.  I was hoping he would ask me to follow him home, but I guess not." 

Ashley paused.  "You don't mind me talking about Lawrence, do you?"

I laughed.  "No, I don't mind.  Don't worry about me.  I have some sort of wall surrounding my heart.  The last thing I need right now is to get involved.  You know what I mean, don't you?  I enjoy having you here, so please don't take what I say the wrong way."

Ashley nodded.  She was pleased to see me sticking to the ground rules. 

"So what about you?  I saw a couple girls looking at you at Practice Night.  Have you made a choice?"

"I am quite content to be with you, Ashley."

Tonight was a replay of last Sunday.  The following Sunday was more of the same. 

However, our torrid romance came to a swift halt the following week. 

 
 


SUNDAY, MAY 6, 2001

ASHLEY EXTRACTS A PROMISE

 

The first Sunday in May marked the start of a new dance month.  When Ashley walked into the studio, she and Lawrence were holding hands.  That was my first clue.  My second clue was the worried look on her face.  The third clue was her refusal to look in my direction.  Seeing how nervous she looked, I think Ashley was afraid I might give her away.  She had nothing to fear.  At my age, I understood discretion was called for. 

Lawrence and Ashley were out of sight for the next hour.  They were taking their class from someone else.  However, during the traditional 15-minute Break between Hour One and Hour Two, Ashley made her way over.  I assumed Lawrence was dancing in another room because he was nowhere in sight.  Ashley crossed her arms and gave me a faint smile. 

"Well, it finally happened."

"Yes, I figured as much.  Good for you.  How was it?"

"It was great.  Just what I hoped for."

Ashley paused and bit her lip.  "But you know what that means, right?"

I nodded with a faint smile, but said nothing.

Ashley frowned.  "Are you okay with that?"

"I feel a touch of regret, but yes, I'm okay with it.  A deal is a deal.  If anything, I appreciate how forthright you have been about where you stand."

When Ashley gave a huge sigh of relief, I could tell she had a lot invested in keeping our three-night fling a secret.  Sure enough, her next words confirmed my suspicion. 

"I hoped you would say that.  Listen, before I go, I have a big favor to ask."

"What's that?"

"Can we keep this between us?  I would be sick if Lawrence found out."

"Of course, Ashley.  I completely understand.  It is my nature to keep my mouth shut anyway, but in your case you have my firm promise not to say a word to anyone."

Ashley looked over her shoulder.  Seeing that no one was watching, she squeezed my hand and whispered "Adios, muchacho" in a husky voice.  Without another glance, Ashley left to find Lawrence who was busy somewhere else.  When Ashley said "Adios", she meant it.  We never spoke again beyond hello.  Ashley and Lawrence continued to take classes from other instructors throughout the summer.  Although I was no longer her teacher, we smiled when we passed in the hall.  Just to be on the safe side, I made it a habit to avoid asking her to dance at Practice Night.  However I kept my eye on them.  I was pleased when Ashley and Lawrence signed up for the August dance cruise.  The fact that they would be sharing a cabin on the trip spoke volumes. 

Keep Ashley in mind.  We will meet her again.

 
 


MAY 2001

CAT AND MOUSE

 

My divorce was final in May.  Once Ashley moved on, there was no one to take her place.  Marla enjoyed being a popular member of her Monday Swing class, so she signed up with her friends for another Swing class in May.  As long as she continued coming to the studio, I clung to the slim hope Marla might someday warm up to me.  I still refused to make a bold move.  They say faint heart ne'er won fair maiden.  Maybe so, but count me out.  The divorce had stripped me of the confidence needed to make my intentions known.  In my conflicted state of mind, I wasn't about to drop to one knee and declare undying love to a woman who had yet to give me the time of day.  That left me with no choice but to play a cat and mouse game to protect my pride.

Refusing to make a move without encouragement, I continued to limit myself to gentle chats whenever Marla came to the studio early.  Unfortunately, our superficial banter revealed little of note, so I remained completely in the dark as to her status.  I hated the fact that my crush was completely one-sided.  I should have given up, but I didn't.  As long as her boyfriend continued to stay out of sight, that left the door open to keep my slim hopes alive.

I kept looking for a break.  Since Marla didn't push me away during our little chats, I felt safe approaching her at every opportunity.  I kept thinking one day Marla would let something slip that would allow me to pry a little deeper.  There was one question I was dying to ask

"Marla, why isn't Chris going on this trip?  Doesn't Chris realize the risk he is taking?  No man in his right mind would let a woman with your kind of looks go on a singles cruise alone!"

However, Marla never gave me the slightest opening to dig deeper.  There was a reason this Cat and Mouse game was going nowhere.  I was the only one who was playing. 

 
 


FRIDAY, JUNE 8, 2001

TROPICAL STORM ALLISON

 
On Friday night, June 8, the studio served as an impromptu Noah's Ark for 30 refugees who were stranded due to a monster storm.  Known as Tropical Storm Allison, the Heavens opened up and poured heavy rains upon Houston for 10 straight hours.   Although the rain started around 6 pm, it was not hard enough to deter people from coming to class. 

Since the studio had no windows, we had no idea the neverending monsoon was flooding Houston in near-Biblical proportions.  Our first clue came when class ended at 9 pm.  People took one look outside and decided to stay for Practice Night rather than fight the steady downpour.  Their gamble failed when the rain refused to stop.  Those with monster trucks made it out, but the rest were trapped at the studio.

Fortunately the power did not go out and we had plenty of comfortable couches.  The studio proved to be a very safe haven to ride out the storm.  One student who left the studio too late to make a clean getaway later shared a key insight. 

"Don't ever curse people out in a storm.  You might end up spending the night with them at a gas station!"

 

Friday Practice Night lasted until 11 pm.  I could not help but notice when several people whom I had seen leaving came back in.  They explained they went as far as they could, but then turned around and came back once they saw it was hopeless.  That was my first clue that I would be spending the night at the studio.  Maybe I could get home, maybe I couldn't, but I could not desert these people.  They were my friends and tonight they would be my guests.  So I made an announcement that everyone was welcome to stay.  Stranded at the studio, 30 people made the best of the odd situation.  An endless supply of complimentary beer helped considerably. 

Around midnight I had a couch to myself, or so I thought.  A young lady came over and asked if she could join me.  Sylvia, a very pretty girl.  Sure, be my guest.  Odd nights make for odd bedfellows.  The possibilities were endless.

"Something in your eyes was so inviting, something in your smile was so exciting..."

To my surprise, Sylvia laid down with her head in the opposite direction.  Not quite what I had hoped for.  Oh well, there goes that fantasy.  I might add I was the perfect sedative.  Sylvia took one look at me and passed out.  A very tall girl, as Sylvia thrashed in her sleep, one of her feet came to rest high on my chest.  Thanks to Big Foot, I was too uncomfortable to sleep.  I could have said something, but my couch mate was sound asleep. 

Meanwhile Louis and Callie laid claim to a couch across the room from me.  Apparently they had never met before, but I watched as the twosome quickly hit it off in the darkness.  Acting like two people who meet on a deserted island, they began an animated conversation.  So what did I do for entertainment?  With Sylvia's foot in my face, mobility was limited.  With nothing better to do, I laid there listening to Louis and Callie chat away like bosom buddies.  Interesting phrase.  Laughter ensued, leading to the fastest connection since Tarzan and Jane.  In the gloom, it took them less than 30 minutes to go from polite vertical conversation to intimate horizontal smooching.  Once they started, they did not stop.  Soon the moans began.  How they managed to keep their clothes on is beyond me.  I don't think they slept the entire night.  Nor did I.  Alternating between groping, giggling, kissing and moaning, the lovebirds kept me up all night.  I didn't mind.  It pleased me no end to watch another romance blossom.  And so Cupid's Playground claimed its next two victims.  As I write this story 20 years later, last time I checked they are still together. 

 
 


JUNE 2001

ONE LAST TRY

 

May ended, June began, Rick was still on his own.  However, I was getting stronger.  Ashley had been the tonic I needed to get some of my confidence back.  I guess the girls could see the difference.  As news of my May divorce got around, several ladies decided to kick the tires and see if I had anything left to offer.  At Practice Night they asked me to dance with them.  When the song ended, they invariably let me know how much they enjoyed our pleasant trip around the floor.  One snap my fingers and my life as the Solitary Man would have come to an end.  Unfortunately, I still pined for Marla.  If Marla wasn't interested, it was time to move on.  But first I had to give it one last chance.  Since Marla was no longer my student, this meant our days of classroom banter were over.  Fortunately, rather than drive home after work, she often came early to the studio on Mondays.

 

As if on cue, on the Monday following Tropical Storm Allison, Marla showed up an hour early before class.  The moment I saw her walk in, I decided this was the night.  Enough cat and mouse.  Time to ask a direct question.  The moment Marla sat down on her favorite couch, I went over.  To my surprise she smiled at me when I walked over.  She was so pretty I nearly stumbled.  Trying to act casual, I sat on the arm of the couch.

"So what happened to you during Allison?"

"I spent Friday night at Chris' house.  The rain put me to sleep.  I slept so soundly I had no idea what was going on.  However, when I tried to leave the next morning, the water was so high I had to spend another night with Chris.  What a crazy storm."

I frowned.  This was hardly the way I wanted this conversation to begin.  Marla had just set a new record by raising her 'Chris Sign' less than one minute into the conversation.  However, I was undeterred.  I soldiered on by switching the topic to the cruise.  At our usual rate of ten or so new passengers per month, we were closing in on 80 people.  Marla smiled at my obvious pride in the growing total.  After some pleasantries, I gulped and plunged forward. 

 

"Marla, I know we spoke about this once before, but is there any chance your boyfriend Chris will sign up?  Lately it seems like the boy-girl ratio just keeps getting worse.  Is there any chance you could talk him into coming?  We could definitely use a few more guys." 

I had used this same bullshit line once before, but it was harmless enough.  This time I got a somewhat different answer.

""I don't think that's going to happen.  Chris isn't interested in cruising or dance.  Plus, I doubt he would be willing to take time off from work.  I love to cruise, so I am looking forward to spending time with my new dance friends from the studio."  

I was glad to know Chris was not going, but her statement did not reveal possible problems in their relationship.

"Won't he miss you?"

"Not really.  He's always busy with his work and rugby.  Besides, Chris just returned from a trip to France with his rugby buddies in May.  Now, it's my turn for a trip.  Chris doesn't mind if I go solo.  I guess he knows me too well.  He is not concerned."

My heart sank.  "Chris is not concerned..."  This was hardly the answer I wanted to hear.  I wanted Marla to declare that this cruise trip was a fiery demonstration of her new-found independence.  No such luck.  The way she said it, it sounded like Chris was so secure in their relationship he could care less what she did.  I frowned.  What a lucky guy.  Any man who didn't worry about losing Marla to a wolf pack of seagoing Romeos was a confident man indeed.  And with that, I snapped.  As all remaining patience drained out of me, I stood up without another word and abruptly walked away.  I felt guilty when I noticed Marla looked surprised by my curt ending to the conversation.  Should I apologize?  No.  Why bother?  This situation was hopeless.  What would be the point of explaining it to her?  Marla was simply not available.  End of story.  Time to move on.

 
 

Marla's Note: 

I think most students continue taking class month after month as a way to keep seeing their friends.  That was certainly true for me.  I thought it was better to continue developing friendships outside of my boyfriend than to work on advanced technical dance training.  Plus the Zoot Suit class was a giant bore, especially without the camaraderie of my new friends.  Meanwhile Rick was as innocuous as he could be in regards to me.  After I signed up for the cruise, he would occasionally make some perfunctory comment in the hallway.  Trust me, he kept his feelings well hidden.

I remember one time when I arrived early to the studio.  He sat on the edge of the sofa and made some small talk.  All of a sudden, he jumped up and briskly walked away from me while I was mid sentence.  I thought "how rude".  I never felt the least bit of interest from him because his eyes constantly darted away from me during our conversations.  My experience has been that if a man is interested in you, he pays attention to you.

 
 
 


JULY 2001

THE DOG DAYS OF SUMMER

 

 

To heck with women.  One way to forget about Marla was to leave town.  Over the July 4th holiday, I took my daughter Sam on a trip to Northern Virginia to see my beloved Aunt Lynn.  Lynn was like a mother to me.  She was the only reason I survived college.  Anytime I got too far down in the dumps, I would drive down from Baltimore for a pep talk.  I loved this woman so much. 

This trip was the first time I had seen Lynn since college twenty years ago.  During our visit, Lynn took Sam and cousins Dale and April on a sightseeing trip into Washington DC .  We went to a nature park the next day.  On the third day, my cousin Todd found time to take us on a kayak trip down the Potomac River. 

From there Sam and I headed to Baltimore to visit Johns Hopkins, my alma mater.  With a frown, I noticed the school had gone coed.  Too late now.  Finding women when I went to Hopkins was like looking for water in the Sahara desert.  Here I was 30 years later and I was still thirsty.

When I returned to the studio in July, I would occasionally see Marla from afar.  No more approaches, but the vigil continued.  I told myself I had given up on my crush, but who's fooling who?  I still watched Marla like a hawk whenever she was around.  I wanted to see if she was pursuing any of the men at the studio.  From what I could tell, Marla didn't give any man much of an opening.  That was good enough for me.  If I couldn't have her, I didn't want some other guy to have her either.

 

I remained unattached throughout the summer.  I remained a target at Practice Night, but kept the women at arm's length.  There were no more bold Ashley-style invitations.  Most women prefer something with a possible future.  That included Ashley, just not with me.   Ashley was an aberration.  She wanted a temporary lover on short notice and she chose me.  To the other women, I was considered a risky bet.  Women hate dating men on the rebound and for good reason.  They say there are stages following a divorce.  Grief, regret, depression, blame, loneliness, self-doubt, anger, bitterness.  Sorry to say, I fit the stereotype.  At the moment, I was in my 'Angry and Bitter' stage towards women.  Sometimes I was nice enough to be around, other times I reeked of hostility.

Readers of my previous books will recall my 20-year Epic Losing Streak with women.  Guess what put an end to the losing streak?  Two failed marriages.  As of 2001, dating back to high school, I had yet to sustain a long-term positive relationship.  Why was that?  A likely explanation would be my moody, sarcastic personality.  I was starting to worry that True Romance was going to bypass me in this lifetime.  For that matter, does True Love even exist?  I had my doubts.  No doubt the women at the studio could feel my cynicism.  I was not mean to anyone, but I was definitely cold and aloof.  Women are smart.  They know how callous and angry men can get after a divorce.  Better to let some other foolhardy female be the first to incur my wrath and let me get it out of my system. 

I suppose I was considered radioactive.  No doubt the first woman stupid enough to take a chance would die a miserable Chernobyl death.  Ashley knew I was dangerous, but had the sense to leave before my dark side kicked in.  I did not blame women for keeping their distance.  My porcupine personality acted as a crude form of birth control.  Let's face it, I was damaged goods.  I had a well-known temper, a tendency towards sarcasm, and a chip on my shoulder.  I had a thin skin and little patience for criticism.  When I was in a good mood, I was an interesting guy, but 'complicated' as one woman described me.  No one had any idea how long the good mood would last.  One wrong word and I might be grouchy for the rest of the night.  I was like an old house.  With some fixing up, I might be worth something.  However, it was going to take a lot of work and plenty of fresh paint.  Who knows how much hidden damage there was.

During first six months of 2001, I was crippled, full of self-pity, intensely self-critical.  Despite doing the best I could in my ten-year marriage, my best was obviously not good enough.  Here in the summer, I reached the next stage.  Gone was the depression and now I was angry all the time.  I was angry at myself, I was angry at women, I was angry at the world.  I was in one of those Scorched Earth 'Never Fall in Love Again' kind of moods.  I was cynical about romance and not even remotely ready for a committed relationship.  In particular, I had serious trust issues.  But then what divorced guy my age doesn't?  Or divorced women for that matter.  The optimism of youth had been replaced by pessimism born of failure.  My anger helped me maintain the same indifference towards women I had felt towards Ashley.  Comme ci, comme ça, women come, women go.  There would be other women on the upcoming cruise besides Marla, so it was high time to quit worrying about her love life and go find somebody else.  

If a woman could overlook the failure of my marriage, I had a few things going for me.  Some women thought I was funny.  A few were impressed to find I knew the difference between a verb and an adjective.  I had hair, I had a job, I could dance.  On the rare night I was not pissed off at the world, I had the unexpected ability to talk about something other than football, superhero movies, and the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue.  As one woman said, if I would just wag my tail once in a while, I would be top doggie in the pet store window.  Another woman called me a good gamble on the resale shelf.  Hmm.  Are these compliments or insults?   I wasn't having a very good summer. 

 
 


EARLY AUGUST

THE CHECKLIST

 

 

It was August now.  We were getting down to crunch time.  The trip was scheduled to start Saturday, August 18.  We crossed the significant '100 guests' milestone two weeks before the August departure date. 

I was quite pleased with myself.  Job well done.  Now it was time to turn my attention to finding companionship on this trip.  With 55 women and only 45 men, I liked my odds.  Even if every man was picked before me, I still had 11 chances with no remaining competition.  Or maybe not.  The remaining women were under no obligation to pick a partner.  Considering my toxic reputation as a two-time loser, if given a choice between Rick Archer and no man at all, I might end up sitting on the bench.  Surely I wasn't that bad.  I had to believe some lady might be lonely enough to take a chance on me.  Perhaps I exaggerate my unsuitability.  In reality, I suppose I was attractive enough for some woman to take a risk during a five-night trip.  I suppose if it turned out I was beyond repair, once we reached home she could always discard me.  It's been fun, but now it's done. 

I printed out the list of 55 women and circled the names of four ladies I had my eye on.  I realized Marla was a long-shot, but maybe I could get her alone sometime on the trip and see if I could finally generate some interest.  For this reason, I put Marla first on the list.  But let's be realistic.  Given Marla's six-year romance, I made sure not to get my hopes up. 

 

Well aware my chances with Marla were slim and none, I thought about my other three choices.  On the off-chance I could somehow regain my long-lost charm, Rebecca was an excellent choice.  Rebecca was not only quite beautiful, she had gone to the effort of inviting me to lunch earlier in the summer.  At the time I had turned her down due to my interest in Marla.  Given how poorly my crush on Marla had turned out, I regretted my mistake ever since.  Maybe Rebecca would give me a second chance during the cruise.

Kellie was my second choice.  Kellie was sexy, bright, very good looking.  In addition, she was one of the best dancers on the trip.  I had admired her for years.  If Kellie was interested, this could be special.  Unfortunately, Kellie had kept me at arm's length in a manner similar to Marla.  Still, you never know.  We matched up very well.

My third choice, Priscilla, might actually be best for me.  She exuded warmth.  She was easy to talk to and I felt safe around her.  Considering how I kept my guard up with most women, the thought of spending time alone with Priscilla made me smile.   

Now my thoughts returned to Marla, International Woman of Mystery.  Ever since my temper tantrum back in June, I had made no attempt to speak to her.  What was the point?  However, I still thought about her wistfully.  I recalled the Thunderbolt back in November.  Who would have thought after all this time I would still carry a torch for this woman.  Marla would be alone on the upcoming cruise.  Isolated from her boyfriend, surely there would be an opportunity.  That possibility was never far from my mind.

 
 


EARLY AUGUST

CARY GRANT OFFERS HOPE

 

 

I talked with my students about cruises all the time.  Someone mentioned Affair to Remember, a movie I had never seen.  Described as romance classic that unfolds on a cruise ship, I rented a copy as a homework project.  The movie implied that a woman's heart is in great peril at sea.  Two attractive people are traveling solo.  Both of them are engaged to someone back home.  However, beware the power of Neptune.  Full moons and ocean waves do strange things to a woman's mood.  Watching Deborah Kerr swoon over Cary Grant, maybe those legends about romance at sea were true.  I suppose it helped to be Cary Grant.  Although I was no Cary Grant, I was emboldened nonetheless.  How could I forget the sight of Deborah Kerr systematically weakening day by day?  Sure enough, by trip's end, Deborah decided to ditch her fiancé, a millionaire no less.  I was inspired.  Seeing my hero in action, I had all sorts of ideas how to get it done. 

Be smooth!  Be glib!  Be dashing!  Be Cary Grant. 

Given my state of mind, I actually wondered if the Universe had suggested I watch this movie.  After all, it pumped me full of renewed encouragement to pursue Marla.  If there was one thing I had learned during my many years of abject failure, there is no such thing as an 'Unattached' Attractive Woman.  No matter what woman I was interested in, there was bound to be a fight for her heart.  Even if Marla was truly on the level about this six year relationship, there was no reason why I shouldn't make a play for her on this upcoming trip.  I was no Cary Grant, but then few men are.  At some point on this trip, I was certain I would meet Marla alone.  Who knows what would happen?

Given that Chris had failed to make a single appearance at the studio in six months, clearly he barely paid little attention to his gorgeous girlfriend.  Noting Marla's loyalty, I assumed her virile boyfriend must ooze with self-confidence to take her for granted.  Personally, I questioned the man's light and breezy approach.  Where was his common sense?  According to Affair to Remember, exposing Marla to temptation at sea was taking a big chance.  There were 35 unattached men in our group.  Knowing that every one of them would ask Marla to dance at some point, no man in his right mind would dream of allowing his girlfriend to go alone on a singles cruise. 

 

27 years had passed since I read the Mistress Book, the strange book that started me on my Dance Path.  The book had one piece of advice that had never left my mind. 

The easiest way to get a woman's attention is to let her see a man in a place where he looks his best.  Women are attracted to excellence, so find that one special area where women will see you doing what you are very good at.

The cruise ship was powerful turf for me.  I had persuaded 100 people to climb aboard.  I was their leader.  I would be front and center on this trip.  It was true that my approaches at the studio had not worked with Marla.  However, once we were at sea, I had a significant advantage.  I would have five nights and four full days to make my case.  Surely the respect gained from organizing the trip would boost my credibility in Marla's eyes.   Affair to Remember made it clear that just because Marla had a boyfriend did not mean it was hopeless.  After all, what kind of guy waits around for six years?  Or what girl for that matter.  Six years was ridiculous, totally unheard of.  Seriously, there had to be an opening.  One of them had cold feet, I was sure of it.

To be honest, I had no idea who laid claim to Marla's heart.  In the six months I had tracked her, she had yet to show interest in a man.  To all appearances, Marla was dedicated to Chris.  Nevertheless, my instincts continued to insist Marla was in play.

 

 

THE GYPSY PROPHECY

Chapter NINE:  MIAMI

 


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