Never Say Never by Linda Hill Page A

seven-thirty before leaving may room and heading for the elevators. Michelle was lounging in a chair to one side of the lobby, smiling slowly as she watched me approach. I took a deep breath, wondering how she managed to look even better than I’d remembered. She was dressed simply in black pants and a short-sleeve white cotton blouse. Her thick short hair looked unruly, as though she had just run her fingers through it. A thin gold chain winked at me from her throat.
    “Hi.” She smiled as she unwound her small body and stood.
    “Hi.” I swallowed hard, hoping she wouldn’t notice my nervousness.
    She led me outside and into the evening breeze, making polite conversation as we walked. We ended up at a small Italian restaurant in downtown Atlanta, where the aroma of herbs and garlic was nearly as intoxicating as the bottle of red wine that we shared.
    I needn’t have been so nervous. Michelle was charming and entertaining, and she went out of her way to put me at ease. She spent the first hour telling me amusing stories about her first few years at college at Georgia State. I realized, as I listened, that there was a time in my life when I would have considered her too outgoing, too gregarious for my own tastes. But now, I found her incredibly appealing.
    “What have you been doing since then?” I asked her. “College, I mean.”
    She wrinkled her nose, her cheek dimpling. “I haven’t decided yet what I want to do. I have a degree in physical education.” She grinned and lowered her voice. “No dyke gym-coach jokes, okay?”
    I laughed.
    “I thought about teaching for a while, but I’m uncomfortable with the thought of going back into the closet. Know what I mean?”
    “I sure do.”
    “I’m enjoying myself and biding my time while I can afford to do it. But I’ll have to decide sooner or later.” She took a sip of wine and continued. “Right now I’m doing part time work to get by. I tend bar at the club where we met the other night, and I also give golf lessons at a local country club.”
    “Golf lessons?” My ears perked up. I loved golf. “Six days a week.” She nodded. “You play?”
    “Not well and not often. But I love golf.”
    “Great. Maybe you’ll play with me while you’re here?”
    “I’d love to.” I looked down at the small hands that were wrapped loosely around a wine glass. My eyes traveled up her forearms and rested on the softly outlined muscles. I wondered why I hadn’t noticed before.
    “Tell me how you met Billy,” I asked.
    “He used to work out in the gym at my college while I was a TA.”
    “You’ve known him for quite some time then.” She shrugged.
    “Only about a year and a half.” I did some mental calculations and was a little confused. She was in college a year and a half ago?
    Suddenly it dawned on me.
    I squinted and leaned across the table. “Just how old are you, may I ask?”
    She grinned a little sheepishly. “Twenty-three. Next month.”
    “Ha!” I sputtered. “You’re a baby!”
    “Oh, come on. Twenty-two isn’t that young. How old are you?”
    I grimaced and shook my head, envying her all the more. No wonder she seemed so carefree. “I’ll be thirty-four before the year’s over.”
    “Ooh, an older woman.” She grinned and wiggled her eyebrows.
    I was appalled. “I am hardly an older woman.”
    “And I am hardly a baby.”
    I sat back for a moment and grinned, completely enamored.
    “Touche,” I retorted, and was rewarded with her throaty laughter.
    We sat talking over coffee far longer than either of us realized.
    It was just after ten-thirty when she grimaced. “I can’t believe it’s this late.”
    “We talked for hours.”
    She smiled, resting her chin on the knuckles of her left hand.
    Her dark eyes stared into mine.
    “You’re easy to talk to.”
    “You are too.” I felt the nervousness from earlier returning.
    She sighed heavily, sounding tired. “I hate to say this, but I have a golf lesson at six, and I