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The God Particle: Excerpt page five
Which means he can't go back to the hotel. Not yet. There's a decent bar about a half block away, a small place with tropical décor. Maybe have a couple of drinks, wait out the itch, and then return to the hotel. For the sake of his engagement.
He leans into the rain and starts walking.
-2-
Inside the bar, an eclectic assembly of patrons sit at tall, round tables, exhorting each other in German and French and English. Isolated molecules of fresh air choke their way through rivers of cigarette smoke. He approaches the bar, and orders in German a Red Bull and vodka from a dark brunette with brown eyes and silver earrings.
In his limited European experience, the women of Zurich are the most like the women of America, both in appearance and personality. Like Iris, for example, a blonde he once met here at the end of two weeks of budget meetings. He remembers her sparkling eyes, her penchant for sarcasm, her perfect breasts shaped by a Jewish plastic surgeon in Miami. In her black BMW, she assaulted his ears with Limp Bizkit and Kid Rock; back in her apartment, she very nearly wore him out.
Inside the bar, an eclectic assembly of patrons sit at tall, round tables, exhorting each other in German and French and English. Isolated molecules of fresh air choke their way through rivers of cigarette smoke.
The interlude with Iris came just over a year ago, back when Janine was still the cute blonde who sometimes wore glittery eye shadow and always showed up at Bobby's Tap with the six-foot-four behemoth that Steve and his friends named Cro-Mag. Janine had seemed so different to him, so mercifully different--her infectious laugh, her obvious confidence, the way Cro-Mag followed her around like a puppy. Steve wanted to date a woman like that, a woman who could perhaps pry his fingers loose, interrupt his fierce grip on life. A few weeks later, he got his chance. Janine showed up without Cro-Mag and Steve left with her phone number. She was a real estate agent, she told him, the top closer in her office three years running, with designs on opening her own practice. Never married and few relationships because most men couldn't match her thirst for success.
Steve said he understood what she meant.
The date ended with sex, sex that quickly became a habit. She liked to talk and made squeaking sounds when it was particularly good. But over time the animality gave way to something more human, and he watched, fascinated, as Janine changed and enriched his life. When he decided to refurnish his living and dining rooms, he enlisted her help--not because he couldn't decide for himself, but because he realized her opinion was important to him. One morning, he awoke from a dream of her in a hospital room, legs in stirrups, giving birth to their first child. A boy, to be sure. Steve Jr. He had nearly laughed out loud with joy.
And though the last few months had been hectic as they gathered the assets and information required to launch her real estate office, his mind had grown calm the way it always did when a watershed event was imminent. One of the major goals of his life--#4, actually-was in his grasp: Marry a grounded woman with whom he could forge a new and fruitful life. And achieving #4 meant that #5--fathering four wonderful and well-adjusted children--would become a real possibility.
So he decided to propose. And, since his visit to Switzerland was only a few weeks away, he figured he could wait to find a spectacular and unique ring that would properly dazzle her. But tonight, when Serena asked to try it on, something snapped in him. Something powerful and alien made him want to slap her when she fingered the ring and smiled that faraway smile. How dare she, even for a moment, assume the identity of the woman he planned to spend the rest of his life with? How dare she suggest that he loved her?
He loves Janine.