14-The Perfect Catch

Nicky’s perfect plan for finding a husband was about to be executed. She decided to meet her unsuspecting client at Think Coffee in the Village. Mary was concerned about Nicky’s safety, so she convinced Charlie and William to observe from a distance. They both arrived before Nicky.

“Have you ever sprained an ankle?” William asked.

Charlie had a large cappuccino with whip cream in front of him. William was drinking a large milkshake.

“No, why?” Charlie asked.

“Mary wants me to paint the kitchen, and I’m thinking of faking an injury.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Charlie said. “Why not just paint it? It will probably be easier than walking around on crutches.”

“Because I know Mary,” William said. “She’ll micromanage the entire project, and when it’s done, it still won’t be good enough. At least if I fake an injury, it will put the process on hold for awhile.”

“Well, if you’re going through with it, you should at least fake an arm injury?” Charlie said. “At least you won’t have to hop around on crutches.”

“True,” William said. “I didn’t think about that.”

“But do you really want to walk around all day with your arm in a sling?”

“I wouldn’t have to wear one all day, just when I’m around Mary,” William said.

Just then, Nicky walked in wearing an oversized Cornell University sweatshirt and black spandex tights. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she was toting a brown, leather gym bag. She walked over to where Charlie and William were chatting and took off her sweatshirt. Underneath, she was wearing a tight tshirt that had the word “TRAINER” emblazoned on the front in big letters.

“Let’s hope our guy isn’t near-sighted,” Charlie said. He stood up and gave Nicky a hug.

“How do I look?” Nicky turned around.

“You look hot. Any woman in the New York Times Wedding section would be envious,” Charlie said.

“I can’t believe you’re going through with this,” William said. “So which victim did you settle on?”

“The attorney specializing in mergers and acquisitions. His name is James.”

Nicky was about to take a seat at their table when a man walked up to her. He was about three inches shorter than Nicky, and he had a beer belly. His hair was receding, and he made it look worse with his comb-over. He wore pleated tan pants that were about three inches too tight around the waist. His faded red polo shirt was also about two sizes too small, and it only accentuated his oddly shaped pear body. He tapped Nicky on the shoulder.

“You must be Nicky,” he said. He had a gap between his two front teeth.

Nicky turned around smiling. She put her hand over her mouth when she saw him and looked down at his feet. He was wearing maroon penny loafers that had worn out soles.

“I am, and who are you?” Nicky asked.

The man’s breath smelled like coffee. Nicky moved her hand from her mouth up to her nose.

“I’m James,” he said.

“Are you sure?” Nicky asked.

“Of course I’m sure. Let’s have a seat. I want to go over my options.”

James didn’t wait for Nicky. He walked over to an empty table without looking to see if Nicky was following. As he walked away, Nicky motioned to Charlie for help. Charlie lifted his cappuccino in a cheer and winked. Nicky followed the man to his table.

James grabbed a chair from another table without asking the people there if it was available. He pulled it close to his seat and tapped it.

“Have a seat Toots.”

“I’ll need to see your gym ID before we start,” Nicky said.

“Sit down, I said,” James patted the seat that was inches next to his chair. Nicky sat without moving the chair away from him.

James pulled a thick wallet from his pocket. He dropped his gym ID on the table. Nicky picked it up, looking for an expiration date.

“Here’s what I want. I need to lose this gut.” He patted his stomach. “I want to bulk up around the chest, and lose these man boobs,” James cupped his chest. It moved like jelly. “And I’m not paying for cardio, so don’t try and put me on the treadmill when you’re on the clock. I’ll do that on my own time. I’m available evenings at 7. I also need a diet plan.”

James looked into Nicky’s eyes without blinking. His eyes were close together.

“Did you bring a copy of your medical records?” Nicky asked.

“Why would I need that?”

“For insurance purposes. It’s gym policy. I can’t train you without a copy of your records on file.”

“You should have told me that.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve been so busy with clients, it must have slipped my mind.” Nicky knocked on her head. “Gym policy. You know those lawyers. So litigious.”

James shook his head.

“You got that right,” James said. “I’m not afraid to sue. Alright, I’ll bring them to our first workout.”

William and Charlie saw enough of Nicky’s pain. They walked over to Nicky’s table. Her posture was leaning away from the man, even though their chairs were only inches apart.

“Nicky, why don’t you introduce us to your new client?” Charlie reached out his hand to introduce himself. James kept his hands on the table.

“James, this is Charlie and William. They’re my,” Nicky paused, “they’re my clients as well.”

James laughed.

“Clients? You better not put them on your resume,” James said. He grabbed the donut from William’s hand and put it on the table. “You’ll thank me later.”

William stepped back.

“Have we met before? Your voice sounds familiar, but I don’t recognize you,” William said.

“You might have heard me on the radio. I talk about mergers and acquisitions all the time on Bloomberg radio. I’m also on CNBC and CNN,” James said.

“I don’t watch those shows,” William said. “You ever on any sports channels?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he said, putting his briefcase around his shoulder. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Toots. And make sure you wear those tights when you train me. They make your ass look fine.”

James slapped her butt with his newspaper, just as Nicky tried to cover it with her tshirt. He walked away without saying goodbye.

“I think he’d make a good husband,” Charlie said when James was out of sight.

“Shut up. He’s not legit,” Nicky said.

“What do you mean?” William asked.

“The polo emblem was on the wrong side of his shirt. His shoes were from the 1980s, and his pants had pleats,” Nicky said. “There is no way he’s a CNBC or CNN contributor with that style.”

“Maybe he just didn’t dress up to see you,” William said.

“No. I think he’s trying to pull something over me,” Nicky said. Her pinky was in her mouth.

“Who does he think he is?” Charlie said. “The nerve of him.”