jump?”
“I can still feel the sweat on my palms from the first time I did it.”
Michael sat there absorbing what she said, her interests, her smile, her personality, understanding why his friend had set them up. “How do you know Simon?”
“I was writing an article about the Vatican a few years back,” KC said.
“Journalist?”
“Used to be.” She paused. “I was researching religious history. He was quite helpful. How do you know him?”
“We help each other out from time to time.” Michael hoped the lie wasn’t that obvious. “He’s a good friend. One of my closest.”
“Mine, too,” KC said. “I never blind-date, but he kind of insisted.”
“I can’t tell you how uncomfortable it is to have your friends picking your dates.”
“Makes you feel like you can’t do it yourself,” KC said in total agreement. She smiled. “What do you do for a living?”
Michael thought on this, speaking about the present with no allusion to his past. “I have a security firm.”
“Stocks or safety?”
“Safety.” Michael laughed. He could never wear a suit and stare at a computer screen all day. “Home and business security systems.” Michael hated lying, but it really wasn’t a lie as she had asked in the present tense. “Do you still write?”
“I’m actually a terrible writer. I do consulting for countries in the European Union, guide them in bridging the culture gap between their respective countries. Help them see eye to eye.”
“Sounds … exciting,” Michael said with feigned interest.
“Now you understand why I like jumping off bridges with a rubber band around my ankle.” She smirked. “I do get to travel a lot and it allows me to work when I feel like working. And better yet, we Europeans take the month of August off.”
“August off? Nice. Growing up, my dad the accountant never took any vacation.”
“Neither did my mom,” KC said, a tinge of sadness flowing through her voice.
“Siblings?” Michael asked, trying to short-circuit her melancholy.
“Little sister. She’s a little financial whiz, Goldman Sachs in London. You?”
“Only child; meant more food for me. Are you and your sister close?”
“As can be,” KC said warmly. “She keeps yammering about starting her own company. She has this mantra, ‘Thirty million by thirty, three hundred by forty.’ It’s all she talks about. Money. It’s getting kind of annoying. I just wish she’d get on with it instead of talking about it.”
“If she ever needs help…” Michael dug through his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and extracted an elegant, embossed business card, handing it to her.
“Stephen Kelley?” KC said as she read the card.
“He’s a financial guy, we’re close, he’s in that field if your sister ever needs a hand. Tell her to say she knows me. Just don’t call on a Monday.”
KC tilted her head. “And what’s wrong with Mondays?”
“I usually kick him around the golf course on Sundays cleaning out his pockets. It takes him a few days to recover.”
“Thank you.” KC smiled, moved by the gesture. She reached across the table and took Michael’s hand.
KC AND M ICHAEL continued seeing each other over the coming weeks, their frequent dates becoming more interesting: golf at Winged Foot, dinner at Nobu; tennis in Forest Hills, lunch at Shun Lee Palace. Michael even got to pitch to her in Yankee Stadium thanks to his father’s connections and the Yanks being on the road. The games were always serious but filled with laughter, jokes, and witty repartee. They played for bragging rights and winner’s choice of restaurant. The victories were split down the middle, the games consistently going head-to-head, the loser always chiming in with the optimistic rematch phrase, “There’s always tomorrow.”
Their growing relationship was like nothing Michael had experienced before; it was as if she was a forever friend. They would talk for hours about anything and everything and then