Mad About You

incredible evening—first dinner, then their lovemaking, then the carpet ride. He laughed. Of course, he could never repeat the story, but how appropriate that he had experienced the amazing incident with Jasmine. Glancing down at the rug, he said, "I was beginning to think you had no redeeming qualities."
    The phone rang again and he reached for the extension on his bookshelf.
    "Hello?"
    "Hi... it's Jasmine."
    His heart vaulted at the sound of her voice. "Where are you?"
    "On my way home." She sounded curt, distant.
    "Why didn't you wake me?"
    In the instant of her hesitation, he knew he had lost her. "I thought it would be best to simply leave."
    Hurt pierced his heart. He closed his eyes. "Can we discuss this?"
    "My behavior was reprehensible," she said quickly, her tone cool. "I only hope all of us can get through this unscathed."
    As always, she was worried about McDonald. "I'll do my part," he promised.
    "Thank you."
    "I thought your road was closed by the flooding."
    "I just heard on the radio that it's reopened." She cleared her throat politely. "Ladden, under the circumstances, I think it would be best if we don't see each other again—not even on a professional basis."
    Another blow. "I see. And do I have any say in the matter?"
    "No." Her voice was quiet.
    "Well, then," he said with false cheer, "it's been good sleeping with you—have a nice life."
    "Ladden, what happened was a mistake—"
    "No," he cut in angrily. "The only thing wrong about it is that we're skulking around like teenagers."
    "It was a one-night stand," she said flatly. "It meant nothing."
    Her words cut him deeply, but he couldn't let them pass. "Tell yourself whatever is necessary to rationalize what happened between us, but I was there, and you can't tell me that it meant nothing." He took a deep, calming breath. "Look, I know all this magic stuff has got you spooked, but don't you see? How else could the two of us have gotten together?"
    "Magic? I don't know what you're talking about."
    Incredulity washed over him. "How can you say that after this evening—after the carpet ride?"
    Silence stretched over the line. When she spoke, her voice shook. "Like I said, I don't know what you're talking about, but I really have to go. Goodbye, Ladden." And she hung up.
    He stared at the phone, then slammed it down. His frustration and anger overflowed. He strode across the room to the table where they'd eaten dinner and cleared the surface with one sweep of his arm. The horrific crash of glass and metal on the wood floor was only slightly therapeutic.
    "Greetings, Master."
    Ladden spun around to find Gene inspecting the mess. "Oh, it's you." He glanced at the floor sheepishly. "I, um, got a little upset."
    Gene sighed. "No lovey-lovey?"
    Shifting nervously, Ladden wondered how much the genie had observed from whatever plane he lived on when he wasn't... visible. "Yes, there was lovey—yes."
    "Then why this?" the man asked, gesturing to the heap of broken glass and flowers.
    "It didn't make any difference. In fact, being together only made things worse. Jasmine doesn't want to see me anymore at all."
    "Ah." The old man shook his head. "American women are stubborn, like a camel." Then he brightened. "No worries. You will find your princess someday."
    Ladden pulled on his jeans, then nodded. "You're right. I can't make her love me. I need to get on with my life."
    "Yes, and you still have a final wish." With a broad grin, he threw his arms wide. "What will it be?"
    He laughed—he'd forgotten about the third wish. "Gee, I don't know—what do most people wish for?"
    "Money... power." His eyes lit up. "I can make you governor, then you will have your Jasmine!"
    Ladden frowned. "I don't want Jasmine to be with me because I have all the fancy trappings of some office. I'll leave that job to McDonald."
    "Then how about gold?"
    A definite possibility, Ladden thought wryly. But having the extra storefront would already provide him with the means to make a very comfortable living. "I can't decide. Do I have to use it right away?"
    Gene shrugged. "No, but I must remain close until then."
    "Let me think about it. I'm going home to get some sleep." When he turned around, Gene and the mess Ladden had made were gone. Whistling under his breath, he marveled at his own ability to adjust so quickly to having a genie around.
    But on the drive home, Ladden set aside thoughts of genies and wishes and reflected only on the intimacies he and Jasmine had shared. The