When our starters arrive, Anand slopes his head toward Jonas. “I’ve been thinking about your theory of women… It’s utter BS, obviously, but it’s entertaining. Do you have one on men though?”
“Maybe.” Jonas picks up a caviar mini sandwich.
“Let’s hear it,” Anand says.
The others cheer. I poke a calamari ring with my fork.
“It will make me even less popular with Margot,” Jonas says.
“That’s all right,” Hyacinth speaks for me. “Margot can handle it.”
Jonas sets his sandwich down. “My theory of men is that a masculine man, even if he’s ugly, will be desirable to women because greater masculinity gives men and, by extension, their families an edge. A low-testosterone, meek, effeminate man isn’t a winning bet for a woman.”
“Masculinity is toxic,” I say.
He arches an eyebrow at me. “According to who? Nuns? Eunuchs?”
“Battered girlfriends and wives.”
My reply chases away his smug smile.
Everybody stares at him expectantly, no doubt curious to see how he’s going to argue against the point I made.
He begins slowly, choosing his words. “Woman batterers aren’t masculine. They’re mindlessly violent, needlessly aggressive, ill-tempered, insecure men with no control over their urges.”
“Potato, potahto.” I level my gaze with his and hold.
“I won’t deny that it’s easy to confuse a pathologically violent man with a strong, masculine man,” he admits. “But they are very different beasts.”
I cock my head. “Are they?”
Peter stabs a slippery calamari ring with his fork. “Even if they were, it’s beside the point.”
“How do you mean?” Anand asks him.
“In our part of the world,” Peter argues, “few women want a he-man anymore. What they want is a sensitive man.”
Jonas twists his mouth in disagreement. “They still want a strong, masculine man, albeit more sensitive than in the past; I’ll give you that.”
“Masculine and somewhat sensitive… Oh, my!” I feign a dreamy expression. “You’re describing a myth.”
“I’m describing the man I’m raising my son to be.”
There’s something new, something deeply earnest in Jonas’s eyes as he continues, “I’d hate for Matteo to be a weak, harmless guy. I want him to be a strong, even dangerous man who can control his emotions.”
And just like that, the mood around the table changes. Everybody refocuses on their plates. When we’re done with the starters, the waiters bring out our mega platter of oysters, smoked salmon, clams, prawn, and mussels with lemon wedges all around. Jonas is served a spectacular lobster. He leans back while the tools required to eat it are laid out in front of him.
I lift a cold oyster shell to my mouth and slurp down the salty goodness inside. “What about us, women? Are we allowed to be dangerous? Can you tolerate it, or do badass women make you flee?”
“I have no issue with badass women,” he says, staring me in the eye.
Phil nods eagerly. “And I can prove he means it! Jonas here has been nothing but reverential with Sandra. She’s a woman, and he obeys her without discussion.”
“I don’t obey her because she’s a woman,” Jonas points out, “but because she’s a great director. And a good boss.”
“See? Didn’t I tell you so?” Hyacinth says to me.
I dig into my memory for the things she has told me on the subject of men, women, bosses, or Jonas—and come up empty. We have never discussed any of those.
