Simon Douglas“Eileen? Eileen Neally.” She was walking for lunch on Main Street in White Plains when she turned to see Simon Douglas rushing up to her. “Eileen? I thought that was you. How are you?”
Simon and Eileen had worked together in her small bank until he left for a job in New York City about five years earlier and since then, she’d heard, he’d done well for himself, ending up with a small hedge fund with its office along the water in Greenwich.
“Simon. My goodness. How long has it been? Four, five years?”
“From when I last saw you? Five years, three months, six days and”—a glance at his watch—”13 hours, eight minutes, and…32 seconds. Far too long.” It was a completely arbitrary figure but he said it with such flair that she almost believed it, down to the second. He was a charmer
