In 1999, we met a man in a bar.
He wore glasses and had a cheeky little smile. His voice was unlike anything we'd ever heard before, it was both gravelly and high pitched, and sounded like it was always delivering a punchline.
He was standing behind the bar in a crowded Manhattan establishment when we first laid eyes on him. Miranda Hobbes, our poster girl for climbing the corporate ladder, ordered a drink from him without even glancing up from her Blackberry to acknowledge his existence. And he called her out on it.
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"Steve," he said.
"Can I have drink... Steve."
This man was Steve Brady, and later that night Miranda Hobbes would take him home.
The next morning, Miranda had already written Steve off as a one-night thing, after all she was a successful skirt suit wearing lawyer and he was a plaid shirt wearing bar tender.
Steve, on the other hand, just wanted to get to know Miranda a little better.
He liked her and he was curious about what was underneath her blunt, take-no-bullsh*t exterior.
Eventually he won Miranda over. This resulted in years of on again/off again dating, an unexpected pregnancy, an even more unexpected wedding, separation, grief, infidelity, and a love story for the ages.
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