So you’re Nancy Barrymore! My so-called fiancée who dumped me for no reason!
That was the only thought that popped into Jory’s head when her name was revealed. However, he did not feel the slightest hint of hatred, which he had originally expected to have when they finally met. In fact, he realized he did not hate her at all. On the contrary, he seemed to have developed an interest in her.
“What a coincidence! This is the third time we meet, and I finally get to know your name. I’m really sorry for what happened just now. Why don’t I buy you a drink?” Jory took note of her crushed hand from earlier and decided to right his wrong.
Nancy was thinking along the same lines. “That’s what I was thinking! I’m really sorry for my rude behavior the other day. I haven’t thanked you enough for fixing my car.”
Simon was startled by their instant friendliness and willingness to buy each other a drink. Do they know each other already? Who has introduced them, and when did it all happen? There was no room for him to think, for the two young people had cheerfully left his office to get some drinks.
Jory and Nancy had gone to a bar with a rather unique ambience. It was unlike other bars she had seen before, which were mostly smoky, reeked of cigarettes, frequented by men looking for pleasure and women with obscure faces.
Jory simply ordered two glasses of wine with relatively low alcohol content, and was first to break the stalemate. “I didn’t expect our third meeting to turn out like this. To be honest, you’re quite different from what I imagined.”
Nancy grinned. “Oh, do tell me. What kind of image did you have of me? And how has that perception changed now that we’re formally introduced?”
Jory looked up at the crystal chandelier, with its sparkling glass crystals, hanging above him. After putting in some thought, he said, “Well, for starters, before I met you, you sounded like the kind of woman who would jump to conclusions about other people despite not knowing them well. When I met you, I thought of you as arrogant and capricious. Now, after meeting you for the third time, you’re actually quite alright.
“As for why it came to that, I can’t really tell. I guess it’s just a feeling people get after they realize they get to know each other!” Jory added.
Nancy toyed with the napkin on the table. “Don’t you want to know what I think of you?”
To her surprise, Jory shook his head. His mouth twitched as he spoke, “I don’t want to know, and I don’t think it’s worth finding out. If I remember correctly, you got married a few years ago, didn’t you?”
Nancy argued, “So what if I’m married? There’s no law that says a married woman cannot be friends with an unmarried man, is there?”
“If you ask me, pure friendships do not exist between men and women. In fact, it goes beyond that,” Jory gave a mysterious answer. He just wanted to let her know that he was not promiscuous at all, so that she would doubt her own judgments, especially the ones she had about him back then, all of which turned out to be false.
Nancy only got more confused, but she had always been straightforward, and that was how she responded. “I used to hear that you’re a run-of-the-mill playboy.”
“And? Has our meeting today changed your opinion of me? As the saying goes, seeing is believing. You should only believe what you see with your own eyes. So, now that you’ve met me, do you think I’m what the rumors say I am?” Jory asked jokingly, but his smile at that time was a bit more restrained than the ones he had on during their previous chance encounters.
“We’ve only just met for the third time. How should I know what kind of person you really are?” Nancy teased. “Who knows, maybe you’re deliberately putting up an act in order to hide your true nature.”
When Jory heard that, an odd feeling rose within him. His next comment was dripped with sarcasm. “Then, it seems my performance today wasn’t good enough, for you to think of me that way.”
Right then, the server brought them the wine they had ordered. Jory held the wine bottle in one hand and a glass in the other. He poured one for himself first, then another for Nancy. Gripping the bottom of the wine glass between his middle and index finger, he proposed a toast, “I’m sorry I rubbed you the wrong way. Allow me to drain my glass first.”
