The Theory of Attraction by Delphine Dryden Page A

outside the theater assailed me, moist and grasping, the second I walked out. Like walking into a steam room, particularly since I was wearing a three-quarter-length sleeve and had traded my shorts for denim capri pants. The movie theater we’d gone to was notoriously chilly, so I’d dressed for that. The shirt was on loan from Athena, so it was lower-cut by far than my usual, but the extra cooling from all the bare skin on my chest could only accomplish so much against the oppressive heat of the summer night. I hoped the restaurant wasn’t too warm, or I’d be miserable.
    We gathered outside before dispersing to cars, and more lengthy introductions were made, with Athena staring pointedly at me all the while. And then, fortunately, Ivan turned his phone ringer back on and noticed a missed voicemail from work. He apologized and stepped away to listen to it, and this occupied him while we engaged in the restaurant negotiations that typically so enraged him.
    We’d decided on sushi by the time he rejoined the group, so we split up into couples to drive to the restaurant.
    “I have to stop by the lab after we eat,” Ivan said. Not apologetically, I noticed. Nor did he say that it wouldn’t take long, or any of the other usual things one says. “Did I hear correctly? Sushi?”
    “Yep.”
    He smiled. “You could always try ‘Yes, Professor.’”
    “Huh?”
    “Nothing.” He opened the car door and gestured me in. “Don’t forget to buckle up.”
    When we’d been driving for a few minutes, he cleared his throat. “So what do you normally order at a sushi bar?”
    “Sashimi. Sometimes a roll. It depends, why?”
    “No allergies I should be aware of? Shellfish, anything like that? Any very strong dislikes?”
    “Nope.”
    He bit his lower lip and shook his head. “No, Professor.”
    “Seriously?”
    “No, it’s all right. I’ll humor you for now. As long as you let me order for both of us.”
    “All right. Control. I get it.”
    “No, I really don’t think you do. But that’s okay. This is still helpful. It’s helping me to see how to translate this behavior from one setting to another. With new expectations.”
    At the next red light, he gave me a head-to-toe appraisal then seemed to be searching his memory for the right phrase. “You look very nice tonight.”
    “Thanks. So do you. You remembered to comb your hair and everything.” And he’d come straight from work, so he was wearing decent jeans and a nice enough navy blue dress shirt. “Usually you’d tell your date that before the movie, though. So are you ever going to explain it to me, so that I do get it? The control issue, I mean.”
    We were pulling into the parking lot next to the restaurant and were lucky enough to catch a space somebody was just vacating. Ivan parked, jerked the emergency brake more forcefully than was perhaps necessary and shook his head. Not a negation, a shake like he wasn’t sure how to respond. “That would probably be a bad idea, Cami.”
    “Camilla,” I said automatically, then bit my tongue. If he wasn’t allowed to make me call him Professor, I shouldn’t be demanding he call me Camilla. “Sorry.”
    “You’re not doing a very consistent job of letting me be in control, Camilla. ”
    And the look he gave me then made me understand how the gazelle feels when it realizes that the rustling it hears isn’t a stray breeze in the tall grass but a lion about to pounce. Only difference was, I wouldn’t have tried to run. I wasn’t sure my legs would even work.
    “I’ll try harder, Professor. ”
    Ivan looked fascinated by me. It was heady, that feeling of being the center of his attention. He started to lift a hand, as though he might touch my cheek, but he pulled it away at the last minute.
    “See that you do.”
    * * *
     
    Dinner was a study in the surreal.
    Ivan was polite and didn’t talk much. So that right there was a little bizarre. He said his prepared things about work and remembered to