After her teeth had been cleaned and he'd finished poking at them and assured her that she had no cavities even though she'd been eating a ton of chocolate because she was going into the truffle-making business and there was no way to test a new recipe except to taste it, he looked at his watch and said, “I should be taking off for lunch in about fifteen minutes—would you like to go with me?” And when Carrie hesitated he said, “I know this is sudden, but I've found that the white coat and the Creature from the Deep getup the law says I have to wear is a little off-putting, and the sooner I can counteract that first impression the better off I am. I'm a snazzy dresser. And I want you to think of me as a guy with really good taste who's taking you to a fancy lunch.”

And because she had no dignity, she asked, “How fancy?”

“I was thinking Luc Latesse.”

“You have to wait months for a table there.”

“Actually, I don't. I'm …sort of like a regular.” He sounded apologetic, which was really sweet.

“The dentist business must be awfully good.”

“It's not bad, but that's not the secret to my success at Luc Latesse. The maître d’ has a daughter—a cute kid, but man, when I first met her that underbite was something else. It took us four years with two different sets of braces, but now I understand she's just won her first pageant out in New Jersey. Miss Fort Lee, I think. So will you have lunch with me?”

She did. She waited for him at the bar at Luc Latesse, and when he showed up he was wearing a caramel-colored cashmere jacket that fit his slim frame like a dream, and a blue shirt that mirrored his eyes.

“You're right,” she said.

“About my clout at Luc Latesse?”

“About being a snazzy dresser.”

Three weeks later, Carrie had yet another new dentist because Howie was a stickler for the rules and he would not date a patient.