Jackie told an adult John one November that she had been rethinking her first marriage and didn’t think it would have survived today. She would have left Jack Kennedy. The most interesting men to her now were the smart ones, writers and artists. Among her suitors was a TV producer she had asked to lunch, then back to her place for sex. He never heard from Jackie again and told a mutual friend that the encounter had left him shocked that women now treated sex the way men did—fun, casual, meaningless.
