“Oh. Is this recent?”

“This isn’t a rebound thing,” I said. “I’ve been single for a while.” Hating the awkwardness- the self-pity- of all that.

“Giving yourself time,” she said.

Saying the right thing. Trained to say the right thing. Maybe this was a mistake. Even back in grad school, I’d avoided dating women in my field, wanting to know about other worlds, worried that intimacy with another therapist would be too confining. Then I met Robin, and there’d been no need to look anywhere…

“Anyway,” I said. “If you’re busy-”

She laughed. “Sure, let’s get together.”

“Still a carnivore?”

“You remember. Did I gorge myself that badly? Don’t answer that. No, I haven’t gone vegetarian.”

I named a steakhouse not far from her office. “How about tomorrow night?”

“I’ve got patients until eight, but if you don’t mind a late dinner, sure.”

“Nine,” I said. “I’ll pick you up at your office.”

“Why don’t I meet you there?” she said. “That way I won’t have to leave my car.”

Setting up an escape plan.

I said, “Terrific.”

“See you then, Alex.”

A date.

How long had it been? Eons… Even though Allison would be bringing her own wheels, I washed and vacuumed the Seville, got compulsive about it, and ended up squatting at the grille wielding a toothbrush. An hour later, grubby and sweaty and reeking of Armor All, I took a long run, stretched, showered, shaved, shined up a pair of black loafers, and pulled out a navy blazer.

Soft, single-breasted Italian model, two Christmases old… a gift from Robin. I yanked it off, switched to a black sport coat, decided it made me look like an undertaker and returned to the blue. Next step: slacks. Easy. The featherweight gray flannels I usually wore when I testified in court. Add a yellow tab-collar shirt and a tie and I’d be- which tie? I tried on several, decided neckwear was too stuffy for the occasion, switched to a lightweight navy crewneck and decided that was too damn Hollywood.