Oh, there were the little things—men who didn’t open doors anymore, bullets jamming in expensive automatic weapons, undercooked fish—but by and large she thought that the best way to live was to be mildly cynical, but not actually to the point that every small injustice became an issue. Dealing with Michael had made her aware that even the stupid things men did—and they did plenty—could be mitigated by occasional acts of nobility. Chivalry didn’t excuse stupidity, of course, but it went a long way toward reminding Fiona that at base, men were just slightly above chimps in terms of their emotional development, and thus needed to be rewarded when they did something vaguely human. Even Sam needed positive reinforcement periodically, which is why she told him, as they sat parked next to each other across from the Honrado campus, waiting for the woman with scars on her neck and face to depart for lunch, that though she was unsure of what she was about to do, she was certain she didn’t need him wasting any more of his precious time on her.
