Read Online Lost by Joy Fielding - Free Book Online

more the threat of violence, the possibility that something terrible is about to happen.”
    “Women-in-jeopardy,” Neil said matter-of-factly, nodding as if he understood, as if he already understood everything there was to know about her, as if there was nothing more to discover.
    “I hate that term,” Cindy said, stronger than she’d intended.
“Women-in-jeopardy,”
she repeated, taking another sip of wine, emboldened. “It’s condescending. You never hear people say
men-in-jeopardy
. And, I mean, isn’t that what drama is all about?
People
in jeopardy? Why is it somehow less valid when it concerns women? I’m really sick of that attitude.” Whoa, she thought. Where had that come from?
    Neil leaned back, lifted his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. Cindy braced herself for his comeback, some smart remark that would put her in her place, reduce her to the role of angry, man-hating feminist. Instead he said, “You’re right.”
    I’m right? she thought, relief washing over her, like an unexpected shower. She tapped her heart with her open palm. “I don’t think anybody’s ever said that to me before.”
    He laughed. “I guess I’ve just never really thought about it, but now that I do, I see your point—all drama is about people in peril, at a time in their lives when they’re at risk, when they have to take a chance, make key decisions, get out of sticky situations, save themselves. The term ‘women-in-jeopardy’
is
condescending. You’re absolutely right.”
    Cindy smiled. He must really want to sleep with me, she thought. “Did Trish tell you I haven’t had sex in three years?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.
    Neil’s hand froze as he reached for his glass. “I don’t think she mentioned that, no.” Slowly, carefully, he brought the glass to his lips, then took a long sip of wine, holding it in his mouth, almost as if he were afraid to swallow.
    “You think it’s breathed long enough?” Cindy asked, enjoying his discomfort.
    He gulped it down, exhaled deeply. “Definitely breathed long enough.” The waiter approached, and asked if they’d reached a decision about their order. Neil grabbed for his menu. “Forgot what I wanted,” he said sheepishly, blue eyes quickly scanning the night’s offerings. “I guess I’ll just have the special.”
    “The calves’ liver sounds wonderful,” Cindy said, thinking how nice it felt to be in control for a change. When was the last time she’d felt in control? Of anything? “And I’d like the endive and pear salad to start.” Suddenly she felt ravenous.
    “I’ll start with the calamari,” Neil said.
    “Good choice,” the waiter told him before departing with the menus.
    What was the matter with my choice? Cindy wondered, feeling oddly slighted, her power already deflating. What was the matter with her? What on earth had possessed her to tell a virtual stranger she hadn’t had sex in three years? Trish’s accountant, for God’s sake. What he must think of her! “Have you noticed the days are getting shorter?” she asked, a bit desperately.
    Neil looked toward the windows that embraced the east and south walls of the tony restaurant. “I guess they are.” He looked back at Cindy, the look in his eyes a mixture of bemused curiosity and wary anticipation, as if he were slightly afraid of what she might say next, but was looking forward to it just the same.
    “So tell me all about the joys of accounting. Are there any?”
    “I like to think so,” Neil answered, his voice a smile. “There’s something very satisfying about numbers.”
    “How so?”
    “Numbers are what they are. They’re very straightforward. Unlike people.”
    Cindy nodded her agreement. “I can’t imagine you have much trouble with people.”
    Neil shrugged, lifted his glass in a toast. “To people.”
    Cindy clicked her glass against his, avoided his eyes. “So, I guess you were always really good at math,