Nigel, as it turned out, was the opposite of what Winnie pictured. He was small, though well put together—symmetrical, like a gymnast, with thick black hair swept stylishly away from his face. When he greeted Winnie in the lobby of the restaurant, wearing dark denim and a white T-shirt, she’d immediately felt disappointed. She imagined he’d be more dapper, but there he was—his face unremarkable, his eyes the most boring brown. Winnie was in the process of fixing him—adding a beard, dressing him in colors more suited to his skin tone—when she lost track of her thoughts. Nigel was smiling. The transformation was so stunning that she’d suddenly felt shy. And he wasn’t wearing just any jeans, she saw now, they were designer. She reached up to secure her hair at the nape of her neck and then ran her hand down the length of it until it sprang free of her fist. Nigel’s eyes watched all of this like someone observing a dancing poodle, good-natured amusement on his face.

“Faux nervousness or real?” His sensual mouth curved around the question, pulling into a lazy smile.

Winnie had butterflies. She wasn’t even embarrassed that he’d picked up on it; it made him seem older, sexy.

“Ask me again after we’ve had a drink,” she’d said decidedly.

By the time dinner came, Winnie was on her third cocktail and she was more focused on Nigel’s hand slowly climbing up her knee than she was on his boring face. She didn’t think he was boring anymore. In fact, she’d never felt more electric. They had sexual chemistry, but it wasn’t just that. Where Nigel seemed subpar in the looks department, until he smiled, he was extraordinary in every other department. He never moved his eyes from her face, not the entire night; not even when their server in her slinky dress tried to make eye contact with him. They would often drift down to her lips while she was talking, which made Winnie squirm in her seat. And he asked her intelligent questions; questions that were so intense Winnie felt both sad and relieved to be talking about it at the same time: “How did your father’s death affect the way you viewed your mother?”