“Aren’t they anorexic?”
Tamara forced a smile. “I’d say they are. At thirty-six and thirty-eight they wear a size zero and a size two after having several children. But Mother says they’re perfect. They had debutante cotillions, but I was denied one because my mother claimed she didn’t want me looking like I was wearing a white tent.”
Duncan stared at Tamara’s hands, which were balled up in fists. He didn’t know whether she’d been an overweight teen, but she definitely wasn’t now. Her figure was full, rounded and undeniably womanly. Everything about Tamara Wolcott was feminine and as close to perfection as a woman could get.
“Were you overweight?”
“No. I was five-ten and weighed one forty-five. My pediatrician constantly told Mother I wasn’t overweight. But she has her own set of standards that were and are totally unrealistic. The Wolcotts have been educators for more than a century, so when I graduated from college it was expected that I go into teaching. I never told anyone that I wanted to be a doctor, so I took a lot of math and science courses pretending that I planned to teach science or math.
“My oldest sister was getting married and Mother was so focused on making certain Renata would have the wedding of the season that she didn’t have time to monitor my life. I took the GMAT and the MCAT, and got nearly perfect scores. Meanwhile I’d applied to medical schools.”
“Where did you go?”
“New York University. I’d been accepted at SUNY Stony Brook, but decided against it because that’s where my father is head of the sociology department.”
“Did you live on campus?”
Tilting her chin, Tamara stared at Duncan. “Not the first year. Getting up before dawn and commuting from Long Island into Manhattan five days a week left me with little or no time for studying. Once I was approved for campus housing my life changed and I swore never to live at home again.”
Resting his hand over her clasped ones, Duncan gave it a gentle squeeze. “Were you screaming, ‘Free at last?’”
“How did you know?”
“I knew a few people who had parents who refused to cut the umbilical cord.”
Tamara laid her head against his shoulder again as if it was something she’d done countless times. “Did it happen with you, Duncan?”
“No. I think it’s different with guys, because we’re expected to grow up and be men, while daddies think of their daughters as little girls even when they’re grown women.”
He recalled the in-depth conversation he’d had with Kalinda’s father who’d said he expected his daughter to be still a virgin when she married. What the older man hadn’t known was that Duncan wasn’t the first man who’d slept with her, but there was no way he was going to reveal that to his future father-in-law.
“Unfortunately the double standard is still alive and kicking,” Tamara drawled, adding an unladylike snort. “I hope you don’t make distinctions between your children whether they’re girls or boys.”
“If I had children, I doubt that I would consciously treat them differently. What I can say for certain is that if some guy decides he’s going to take advantage of my daughter, he’d better make funeral arrangements, because I’d definitely take him out.”
“But you are making a distinction, Duncan,” she argued softly.
“Do you have any children, Tamara?”
“No.”
“Since we’re both childless, then the topic is moot.”
“Because you say so,” she retorted.
Duncan groaned. “Tamara, Tamara, Tamara. Why are you so argumentative?”
Tamara pulled her hands away. “You think I am?”
“Yes.”
She sobered. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I came off sounding that way.”
It was Duncan’s turn to be repentant. “Perhaps I used the wrong word. I should’ve said you appear defensive.”
“Don’t tell me you’re a therapist.”
“Nope.”
The seconds ticked off. “What are you?” Tamara asked when he seemed reluctant to answer her question.
“I’m a financial planner.”
“Are you a financial planner or an accountant?”
“I’m both.”
“Do you practice accounting?”
Duncan shook his head. “Not in the traditional sense.”
“Why did you get an accounting degree if not to practice or teach?”
“It’s a long story.”
Tamara gave him a winning smile. “Didn’t you say we have nothing but time? And besides, you have a captive audience.”
Duncan returned her smile with a dazzling one of his own, unaware of the effect it had on the woman beside him. “I’ll tell you on one condition.”
She gave him a skeptical look. “What’s that?”
“If you snap at me again, then you’ll have to take me out to dinner. Then I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll take you out.”
“What are you going to say to your wife or girlfriend about taking a strange woman to dinner?”
Duncan angled his head as he met Tamara’s eyes. There was amusement shimmering in the black orbs. “I don’t have a wife or girlfriend, so the issue is also moot.”
Tamara gave him a long, penetrating stare. “I should’ve met you years ago before I was going through what became a very contentious divorce.”
“Are you married now?”
“No. And I’ve never been happier.”
“You didn’t like being married?”
“I loved being married,” she admitted. “It was just how it ended. My ex cleaned out our joint bank accounts, and because I wanted to be rid of the bastard I gave him our Upper Eastside co-op. And if that wasn’t enough he also wanted my dog.”
“Did you give up the pooch?”
Tamara’s eyes filled with tears when she remembered the fluffy white bichon frise that had been her constant companion. Edward Bennett had refused to sign off on the divorce papers until she gave up the apartment and the dog, then he promptly sold the co-op and gave her pet to an ex-wife she knew
