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that,” she says with a gleam of longing in her eyes.

Chapter 4
    The bellman finishes depositing Michael and Kennedy’s bags in their hotel room and gives them a quick tour. King-size bed, room done up in shades of purple and red, eclectic photographs on the wall, an oversized chaise lounge made of comfortable upholstery. In the bathroom, an enclosed-glass shower stall for two and a separate Jacuzzi spa that’s big enough for the both of them. Michael palms the bellman a ten-spot and closes the door. Kennedy rushes to him and wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him close and offering up her tongue, which he readily takes.
    “I LOVE it!”
    “Me, too,” Michael responds.
    “This view ... ,” she says, going to the window. They are on the fifty-first floor, facing west. The Hudson River shimmers in the distance. It is dusk, and lights in the neighboring skyscrapers are beginning to blink on. They linger at the window for a moment admiring the picturesque view as Michael stands behind his wife, holding her waist. They remain that way for a moment before Kennedy turns to Michael and says with a grin, “I’m starving.”
    They find a restaurant within walking distance of their hotel in the Theater District, an Italian spot with plenty of atmosphere that serves generous portions, family style. Their entrees: veal parmigiana and clams in red linguine sauce. They share a very good bottle of Pinot Grigio between them while waiting for the food.
    Michael, much to Kennedy’s contentment, sits not across but beside her in a cozy booth. While sipping their Pi not, Kennedy and Michael recount the ups and downs of their week. Their rule—they are allowed to spend no more than an hour bitching about their respective jobs. The rest of the time is to be spent on positive rhetoric. Not that either of them focuses on the negative. Their jobs are fulfilling, and for the most part they have bosses who are supportive and coworkers who are pleasant to be around. They chat about Zack and his school and friends, their family, and each other.
    Once the veal and clams arrive, Michael has Kennedy laughing about one of his friends/coworkers. Marc is a senior attorney at Michael’s agency. He’s white and a few years shy of retirement. The Sean Connery look-alike is comical—he’s constantly hitting on the young interns and associates. He likes them young, fresh out of college. Anything older than twenty-two or twenty-three won’t do.
    “The guy is slick,” Michael exclaims while forking a sliver of veal into Kennedy’s mouth. “He knows the boundaries with respect to his job. So as to not seem like he’s harassing these women, he attempts to hire them as his personal dog walkers for his two German shepherds.”
    “I don’t like him,” Kennedy says.
    “I know you don’t,” Michael replies, laughing. “But you have to give him credit—he is relentless—and it seems like every other week he’s getting one of the nubile young things over to his Georgetown condo under the guise of getting to know his dogs.”
    “Nubile young things? Michael, if I didn’t know any better I would think you actually admire him,” Kennedy says.
    “Ken, I admire his perseverance. The guy doesn’t give up, even though he’s not getting any!”
    Kennedy’s turn.
    She has a coworker, a paralegal named Jacqueline. Jackie, as she’s called, is dating this uptight dentist named Freddy. Michael remembers meeting them at an office function earlier this year. The dentist said all of two words the entire evening.
    “Jackie went down south with him for his homecoming last weekend,” Kennedy explains. “While there she happened to check his phone and saw all of these text messages from other women.”
    “She just happened to check his phone?” Michael asked.
    “I didn’t get into all that.”
    “Okay . . .”
    “Anyway, she finds these messages, and they were definitely inappropriate for him to be having with anyone who was not his