Bet Me by Jennifer Crusie Page A

Min said. "I can walk it." She held out her hand. "T hank you for a lovely evening. Sort of. Good-bye."
    "No,"
Cal
said, ignoring her hand. "Which way is your place?"
    "Look," Min said, exasperated. "
I can walk
—"
    "In the city alone at night? No, you can't. I was raised better than that. I'm walking you home, and there's nothing you can do about it, so which way are we going?"
    Min thought about arguing with him, but there wasn't much point. Even one short evening with Calvin Morrisey had taught her that he got what he wanted. "Okay. Fine. T hank you very much. It's this way."
    She started off down the street, listening to the breeze in the trees and the muted street noises, and
Cal
fell into step beside her, the sound of his footfalls matching the click of her heels in a nice rhythm.
    "So what is it you do for a living?" she asked.
    "I run a business seminar group with two partners."
    "You're a teacher?" Min said, surprised.
    "Yes," he said. "So you're an actuary. I have a great deal of respect ,for your profession. You do it for money. I do it for recreation."
    "Do what?"
    "Figure out whether something's a good bet or not." He looked down at her. "You're a gambler. You do it with millions of dollars of an insurance company's money. I do it with ten-dollar bills."
    "Yeah, but I don't lose any of my own money," Min said.
    "Neither do I,"
Cal
said.
    "You win
every
bet?" Min said, disbelief making her voice flat.
    "Pretty much,"
Cal
said.
    "Hell of a guy," Min said. "Is that why you went into business for yourself? So you could control the risk?"
    "No, I just didn't want to work for anybody else,"
Cal
said. "That didn't leave me any other options."
    "We turn here," Min said, slowing as they came to the corner. "Look, I can—"
    "Keep walking,"
Cal
said, and Min did.
    "So what's the name of this company?"
    "Morrisey, Packard, Capa."
    "Packard and Capa being the other two guys on the landing with you," Min said. "The big blond and the bull—uh, the jock-looking one."
    "Yeah."
Cal
grinned. "Bull?"
    "One of my friends mentioned his head looked like a bullet," Min said, wincing. "She meant it as a compliment."
    "Bet she did,"
Cal
said. "That would be the redhead, right?"
    "You noticed her," Min said, and felt a twinge.
    "No, the bullet-head noticed her,"
Cal
said.
    "Don't tell him she said that," Min said. "She wouldn't want to hurt his feelings."
    "It takes a lot to bring Tony down,"
Cal
said. "But I won't mention it."
    "T hank you."
    The farther they got from the busier streets, the darker it became, even with the streetlights, and Min began to feel grateful he was there. "So why do people hire you to teach? I mean, you specifically. Instead of somebody else."
    "We tailor the programs,"
Cal
said. "In any instructional situation, a certain percentage of the student population will fail to master the material. We guarantee one hundred percent and we stay until it's achieved."
    "That sounds like promotional literature."
    "It's also the truth."
    "And you do this how?" Min said. "Charming them?"
    "What have you got against charming?"
Cal
said.
    "It so rarely goes hand in hand with 'honest,' " Min said.
    Cal
sighed. "People shut down because of fear. The first thing we do is analyze the students to find out who's afraid and how they're coping with it. Some of them freeze up, so we put them with Roger. Very gentle guy, Roger. He can reassure anybody into learning anything."
    "That's a little creepy," Min said, trying to picture Roger as one of those slick self-help gurus.
    "You are a very suspicious woman,"
Cal
said. "Then some people hide their fear in wisecracks, disrupting class. Tony takes them. They joke around together until everybody's relaxed."
    "And who do you get?" Min said.
    "I get the angry ones,"
Cal
said. "The ones who are mad that they're scared."
    "And you charm them out of it," Min said.
    "Well, I wouldn't put it that way, but yes, I suppose that's one interpretation."
    The angry ones
. They walked on