After that long, the apron strings become steel bands.

"I hear you're taking Esperanza out for lunch," he said.

"Yup."

"How come?"

"No reason."

"No reason?"

"I think she's cool. I want to go to lunch. Stop being so noisy."

"You realize, of course, that she hates you."

"I can handle it," Jessica said. "So how's the golf tournament?"

"Very strange," he said.

"How so?"

"Too long a story to tell now, sweetcakes. Can I call you later'?"

"Sure." Then: "Did you say 'sweetcakes' ?"

When they hung up, Myron frowned. Something was amiss. He and Jessica had never been closer,their relationship never stronger. Moving in together had been the right move, and a lot of their past demons had been exorcised away of late. They were loving toward each other, considerate of each other's feelings and needs, and almost never fought.

So why did Myron feel like they were standing on the cusp of some deep abyss?

He shook it off. All of this was just the by-product of an overstimulated imagination. Just because a ship is sailing upon smooth waters, he surmised, does not mean it is heading for an iceberg.

Wow, that was deep.

By the time he got back to the table, Tad Crispin was sipping an iced tea too. Win made the introductions. Crispin was dressed in yellows, lots of yellows, kind of like the man with the yellow hat from the Curious George books.

Everything was yellow. Even his golf shoes. Myron tried not to make a face.

As if reading his mind, Norm Zuckerman said, "This isn't our line."

"Good to hear," Myron said. '

Tad Crispin stood. "Nice to meet you, sir."

Myron offered up a great big smile. "It's a true honor to meet you, Tad." His voice reeked with the sincerity of, say, a chain-store appliance salesman. The two men shook hands. Myron kept on smiling. Crispin began to look wary.

Zuckerman pointed a thumb at Myron and leaned toward Win. "Is he always this smooth?"

Win nodded. "You should see him with the ladies."

Everyone sat.

"I can't stay long," Crispin said.

"We understand, Tad," Zuckerman said, doing the shooing thing again with both hands. "You're tired, you need to concentrate on tomorrow. Go already, get some sleep."

Crispin sort of smiled a little and looked at Win. "I

want you to have my account," he said.

"I don't 'have' accounts," Win corrected. "I advise on them."

"'There's a difference?"

"Most definitely," Win said. "You are in control of your money at all times. I will make recommendations. I

will make them to you directly. No one else. We will discuss them. You will then make a final decision. I will not buy or sell or trade anything without you being fully aware of what is going on."

Crispin nodded. "That sounds good."

"I thought it might," Win said. "From what I see, you plan on watching your money carefully."

"Yes."

"Savvy," Win said with a nod. "You've read about too many athletes retiring broke. Of being taken advantage of by unscrupulous money managers and the like."