The Perfect Woman

Danny tossed back a martini and thought about how he had been dragged to the Christmas party in Charlestown against his will.

His old friend, Sam, had insisted he come. They had been roommates their senior year at Boston College and still spent most weekends together.

Danny was nearly 6’3” with black hair and blue eyes. Sam was just 5’7” with a carrot-colored mop. but you could look across at any party and he’d be smack in the middle of the room, a drink in one hand, gesticulating wildly with the other.

Right now, Sam was speaking with a woman. She was tall and attractive—blonde hair down below her waist. But his conversations always ended the same way—the girl disappearing as soon as some handsome guy tried to get her attention.

But Danny. He was a different story. Women swarmed to him like bees to a spring crocus. Even now as he glanced around the room, he saw a brunette staring at him.

But he always went home alone from parties. He detested the awkwardness in the morning when some girl looked at him as if she’d already fallen in love with him.

He’d been searching for a long time for the perfect woman. One who had substance—brains and beauty. If she were a bit shy, that didn’t hurt either. He didn’t discount his own attributes—he was handsome, a lawyer due to make partner in his firm soon. No need to sell himself short.

Danny had decided already that there was no one at the party he wanted to meet.

He was about to tell Sam he would grab a cab home when a woman walked into the living room. Virtually everyone in the room turned around to look at her. She was a tall redhead in an emerald jumpsuit. Her auburn hair hung below her shoulders, and he thought she was the most breathtaking creature he had ever seen.

The noise level dropped in the room and nearly everyone was staring at the mysterious redhead. Finally, Chip, the party's host, made his way toward her. The woman didn’t move as he approached. Chip spoke briefly with her but, if Danny was reading his expression correctly, he didn’t seem to know her either.

Danny was intrigued by this strange woman, and he wove through the crowd to her. When he reached her, she was speaking with a dark-haired, plain man—at least that’s what Danny told himself. He waited and watched for an opportunity to speak with her.

He noticed that her eyes nearly matched the color of her jumpsuit, that her lips were painted a deep red and he thought her one of the most exquisite creatures he had seen. He was a good half a head taller than the other men who surrounded her and he made his way through the throng.

When the other man finally stopped speaking, he said, “I’m Danny.”

“Daphne," she said.

“How do you know Chip?” he asked.

Her eyes darted behind him in a motion that was so quick it was nearly imperceptible and then she said, “He’s a friend of a friend’s.”

“Oh,” he said, thinking it might be rude to ask her exactly whose friend she was. Instead, he asked, “Do you live nearby?”

"Fairly close—in Boston,” but she didn’t offer a neighborhood. Naturally, a woman like that didn’t want strange men knowing where she lived.

“Do you work around here?” he asked.

“Near here,” she said in a noncommittal way.

“I do, too. I work in a law firm in downtown Boston.”

This statement impressed most women, but not this one. She smiled slightly toward him and turned back to the other man who was babbling away about his own job.

It was infuriating. How could she be so interested in this guy when Danny was here? He tried to think what to do, but he was at a loss. He just knew he needed to get her phone number, though.

By now, Sam looked a bit drunk and battle-weary. He weaved his way across the room to Danny and stood in front of him.

"I’m going home,” he said. “This party’s beat.”

“I’ll stay a bit longer. I’ll catch a cab home.”

“Suit yourself.”

Another time, Danny might have tried to cheer him up, perhaps offered to buy him a beer in town, but now he wanted to focus on the woman. He watched Sam push through the room and walk out the door.

When he turned back toward Daphne, she was waving goodbye to a group of people.

He pushed through the crowd to get to her.

“Are you leaving?” he asked when he reached her.

“Yes,” she said. Was it his imagination or was she looking at him warily?

“Why don’t I give you a ride home?” He didn’t have a car, but he could call a cab.

“I’ll be fine.”

He was furious, but he understood. A woman this beautiful couldn’t accept rides from strangers.

He followed her out the door, trying to think. When they stood together in the elevator, she looked ill at ease. She clasped her hands over her chest as if she were trying to push him away, but he was thinking this was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her skin was porcelain-white without a single blemish or flaw. Her auburn hair draped over her shoulders in thick waves.

In that very moment, he saw himself marrying her and they would live together in some suburb—Wellesley or Weston perhaps.

 “Could I at least call you an Uber?” he asked when they reached the first floor.

“Have one already.”

“Good, great, glad to hear it. There wouldn’t be any way I could see you again?” He stuttered like a schoolboy and he could feel the heat coming into his cheeks.

“I’m afraid not.”

He stood motionless as she walked ahead of him through the doors. A car was pulling up to the curb, her Uber. He looked around and, in an incredible stroke of luck, a cab pulled up to the building and dropped two people off. He ran to the driver and said, “Can you take me to Boston?”

The man looked at him without the slightest hint of interest and said, “Suppose so. Where are you going?”

“Could you follow that car there?” He pointed to the Toyota that was pulling away from the curb.

“You’re kiddin’ me, right?”

“Dead serious.”

“All right, Columbo.”

The driver shook his head but after Danny jumped into the car, he pulled out after the Toyota. They drove through Charlestown and then crossed the bridge into Boston.

The more Danny thought about this girl the more he thought he was in love. Sure, she hadn’t seemed interested in him—not at first—but he knew he could win her over. He was handsome, wasn’t he? He had a good job.

Perhaps Daphne was just shy. A girl like that would have guys hitting on her every minute if she didn’t watch herself. He would take it slow. He thought about the restaurants he would take her to—Mooncusser or Sarma. He would have to be careful every step of the way not to scare her off. She was as skittish as a deer.

As they drove along Commercial Street, a deep soupy fog hung low over the city.

Her Uber pulled up just outside the gatehouse at Commercial Wharf.

“Do you want me to keep following the Uber?” the cab driver asked.

“No,” he said, “the security guard won’t let us through.”

They pulled a few hundred yards down the street. One of Daphne’s long, curved calves emerged from the cab and then she twisted the other leg out.

“I can see why we followed her,” the driver said.

Once she was out of the Uber, Daphne walked through the gates, waving to the guard as she went past the barrier. Danny tried to see which of the buildings she was walking to, but the fog was so thick he couldn’t see where she was walking.

“Can we go now?” the driver asked.

“Okay,” he said but he could barely breathe.

*

Danny couldn’t sleep that night. At 8:00 o’clock the next morning his alarm clock went off and he stopped it, wondering whether it was too early to call Chip.

He debated a moment before deciding that he had to ring him. He couldn’t wait any longer.

At 8:10 a.m., he called Chip. He’d known him since college so he figured it wasn’t too much of an imposition.

“Hello,” Chip said, as if he’d just been woken from a dream.

“Chip, it’s Danny. I know it’s early—”

“Damn right about that.”

“I just had to ask you about someone at the party.”

“Ah, ha,” he said, sounding disinterested.

“There was a woman there—”

“Oh,” he said.

“What do you mean ‘oh’?”

“You’re not the first one to ask me about her—the redhead. I think half the men at the party wanted to know about her.”

“Do you know who she is?”

“No damn idea. None. She said someone had invited her, but when I asked her who, she didn’t say a word. The whole thing is damn strange.”

“Yes,” he said, “yes, it is.”

“If I figure out who invited her, I’ll let you know.”

With that, Chip hung up the phone.

Danny decided to take a walk to Commercial Wharf. It wasn’t far from where he lived, and the weather wasn’t unbearable for December. It had been snowing all week, but the sun warmed the air. He turned down Boylston Street and reached the Public Garden in a few minutes. He’d always loved the garden, loved the swans that swam so majestically together with their mates.

Danny’s parents had divorced when he was six. His mother had no college degree so she worked menial jobs to support her son. He barely remembered his father. Once his parents had divorced, he never contacted them again. Danny’s mother said his father wasn’t fit to have a family.

Perhaps that’s why he always told himself that he would be a good parent and husband. He made money, plenty of it, and he imagined himself in a perfect house with a perfect family. He would take his son there—there would be a boy to carry on his name—and he would teach him to play baseball and football.

He just needed the right woman. He’d looked for her since his college days. He imagined her as beautiful and funny. As a Catholic, he wanted someone virtuous and modest He wanted a shy girl, not someone gregarious or bossy.

This girl, Daphne. He thought of her green eyes and the way she had of being polite and quiet. He had started to think of her the way she would look at their wedding. Her hair would be swept into a bun, her figure svelte in her white gown.

He jammed his hands into his pockets and pulled his scarf tighter around his face. Down by the water, the day had turned cloudy and he smelled the low tide coming from the harbor, the scent like something from the depths of the sea.

He walked to the gatehouse at Commercial Wharf and stood there for a minute, not sure what to do. He could ask the security man about Daphne, but he supposed he wouldn’t tell him anything about her. So Danny stood outside the gatehouse for a few minutes, just waiting. A strong wind blew his scarf so he kept reaching for it, to hold it down.

He must have waited an hour, pacing back and forth when he saw Daphne walking down the boardwalk toward him. Today, she wore a white wool coat and grey boots. He was struck by how angelic she looked. He felt the muscles around his heart tighten and he swallowed hard.

He stepped back slightly off the sidewalk so she wouldn’t see him until she got closer. He waited as she walked past the guard and waved to him. He loved her politeness, her consideration.

As she passed, he stepped out on the street and said, “Daphne.”

She turned quickly and he saw the shock on her face, how she recoiled.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to scare you.” Even as he said this,

he noticed how the white of the coat made her eyes look so green.

“I’ve got to go.”

“Wait. I thought—I really liked you at the party and I hoped—”

She glanced down at the watch on her wrist and said, “I’m late for an appointment.”

He stammered something then, but she was already walking away from him. He watched her walk through the small park next to Commercial Wharf toward the hotels on the waterfront and swore under his breath.

*

He came back the next night and then on Monday after work. A pathetic stalker, that’s what he was, but he knew of course that he was already in love with her.

But he must have missed her because although he waited, he never saw her come outside. The more he thought that he had lost her the more he knew he must have her.

Danny was beginning to feel like Sam—desperate. But he was in love for the first time in his life and no matter what he did, he couldn’t shake the feeling. He had to see Daphne again, to convince her that he was the right man for her.

On the third night, he finally saw her. She slipped from one of the buildings. She wore a black coat tonight and black stockings. She blended into the night itself.

He wanted to stop her, but he, Danny Rourke, didn’t dare. He, who had never been intimidated by anyone, was scared she would reject him.

He followed her down the street. She stopped for a minute outside the Boston Harbor Hotel and then walked inside.

Danny thought she might be having dinner with a friend—or much worse, a date. But he couldn’t linger on that thought. He followed her into the hotel but stood near the door as if he were waiting for someone.

Daphne stood in the lobby for a moment, looking around. A man crossed the room to meet her. He spoke to her for a moment and then they took the elevator upstairs.

Danny sat on a bench in the lobby, watching the guests walk past him. He waited and waited, his face in his hands, thinking that she had a boyfriend, but that didn't really matter. He would make her understand how much he loved her.

But she got off the elevator alone an hour and ten minutes later. He noticed that she walked a bit uncertainly and she looked around warily.

It occurred to him then what she was doing.

He stood for a moment, ashamed of himself. He’d deluded himself, built up a whole life that would never exist. He’d made her into something she wasn’t, just for his own gratification. She was a call girl, a common prostitute. He turned away and walked back through the cold winter.

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