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look like a sinner, a young
sinner, with a body that made him want to sin and sin again. He preferred to
find a woman with both qualities—a heart of gold and the shape of a super
model—but he would settle for someone who came close to meeting the
second criterion. He knew he had to be somewhat flexible, if he really wanted
to find a replacement for Linda.
    He had met Linda, and several other dates before her,
through a matchmaking agency, but he wasn’t eager to return there. None of the
women, whom the agency had paired him with, had ever worked out, and the cost
of the service was much too high for such misfires. He didn’t want to remember
what he had paid. At that agency, he thought, he was at a disadvantage, too,
because he lived in a rental studio. One of the matchmakers had once said,
looking at him as if he was a homeless person, “Most of our women prefer to
find men who own houses,” which he felt was insulting, because his studio was
big enough for two people. He could even make room in the closets, he thought,
for a woman to have one-third of the space. As much as he disliked online
dating, Bill thought that he might have more and better prospects there than with an agency. He didn’t have to immediately
tell any woman, whom he met online, where he lived.
    By the time Bill entered the building in which his office
was located, he had completed the honest appraisal of his situation and reached
a plan of action.
    A half hour after he returned from lunch, he put into execution
the first step of his plan. He left his seat and strolled over to the office
manager’s desk. Katie, the office manager, was busy chatting with friends and
exchanging photos over the Internet, as she normally did for at least three
business hours every day. A young woman in her early twenties, she
instinctively knew that her personal life was more important than her
professional activity. She kept a low profile in the office and never did more
than she was asked or required to do. Even her clothes and looks blended in
with the office furnishings.
    “Katie, are you busy?” Bill asked nonchalantly, as if he was
going to ask her to fax something or make some copies.
    “Just a moment. I have to wrap something up,” she replied,
continuing to finish a posting to her friends full of smiley faces and
exclamation points and hardly any subject at all. Bill waited patiently. The
other three employees in the marketing agency were ostensibly busy at their
desks. Bill could see all of them, because the office had no cubicles or walls.
It was one big room.
    “OK. What is it?” she said, after hitting the send button.
    “Do you have time to take my picture with the office
camera?” Bill asked.
    “We already have business pics on the
server. I can send you the link,” she replied. Bill often had trouble finding
files on the shared drives, Katie knew. She had seen that his
own files were a mass of disorganization.
    “For the proposal I’m working on, I’d like something a bit
more casual,” Bill explained. Since he was the office’s new businessperson, he
was frequently preparing proposals for new business. The rare success of his
proposals probably stemmed from his philosophy of sales, which he explained to
his coworkers from time to time. A new client would join them for two reasons,
he would say. First, the client recognizes that we have the necessary skills.
Second, and more importantly, the client feels that we are a good emotional match . In accordance with his
philosophical strategy, Bill spent most of his time wining, dining, and
shooting the breeze with potential clients, especially if they were men.
Consequently, it appeared to both his contacts and his coworkers that Bill
worked harder at having a good time than selling his company’s services.
    Claire, the office boss, immediately looked up from her desk
when she heard Bill. She thought his sales philosophy made some sense, but at
the moment he didn’t seem to be engaged in