Jack Silver detested Kent Bliss.
He watched as Bliss walked over to one of the treadmills. He set the timer, turned it on, and started walking, his arms swinging at 4.5. “I hope you fall off,” Jack muttered under his breath.
Jack thought about Rosie Gardener Bliss. She had to be this turkey’s wife. Something was going on there. Normally, he didn’t hire out as a personal trainer, but when Luna Mae Luna had appealed to him, he couldn’t say no. He told himself it was because her name appealed to him. He’d liked Rosie Gardener. He remembered how he’d laughed when she’d said she hated his guts. He wondered what she really thought of him.
Jack walked over to the treadmill. “How’s it going, Mr. Bliss? You okay? You look tired. Maybe you should bring it down to 3.5.”
“I’m fine. Let me worry about my speed. If I fall off, I won’t sue you.”
“That’s what they all say, Mr. Bliss. Turn it down.Now.”
Kent was about to offer up a sharp retort when he looked into the trainer’s eyes. He adjusted the speed on the treadmill and immediately felt better. He looked away.
“We’re having a triathlon in November. Are you going to sign up, Mr. Bliss?”
“Probably not. I’m too busy to give up a whole day.”
“I’ll send you a notice. You might change your mind. By the way, your membership is up at the end of the month. It might be a good idea to renew it before you leave today. We only have two other openings.”
“I’ll let you know,” Kent responded.
Before Jack walked away, he said, “Say hello to Rosie for me.” So much for fishing for information.
Kent stepped off the treadmill. “I didn’t know you knew Rosalie.”
“Yes, I know Rosie. Nice lady. Excuse me, my father’s here, and I need to talk to him.”
Son of a bitch. If this guy knows Rosie, then he knows I can’t afford this place,Kent thought. It would be all over town. The membership was four hundred bucks a year. If he paid it now, he’d seriously deplete his cash. Still, he couldn’t let the trainer think he had no money. Besides, he needed this place like he needed the country club. There wasn’t much he could do about the club, but if he paid the four hundred bucks for the gym he’d know he’d be able to pick up a woman anytime he felt like it.
Kent moved over to the Exercycle and climbed on. He had a perfect view of the women on the aerobics floor. He sized them up one at a time, finally deciding on a dark-haired, long-legged beauty. He even knew her name, Heather Daniels. Her father owned a Buick dealership. They’d spoken once or twice, nothing important, hello, nice to see you. She was a flirt. He liked that. He’d seen her eyeing his Porsche. Of course she drove a Buick and worked at the dealership. What he didn’t know about Heather Daniels was whether she had her own apartment or lived at home.
The buzzer went off on the Exercycle. Kent slid off and walked over to the StairMaster. The way the machines were positioned, he could see Heather in the mirror even though his back was to her. That had to mean she could see him, too, if she was looking into the mirror in front of her.
Kent climbed away. He never broke a sweat. He hated sweat, his own or anyone else’s. He really hated using the machines because he knew people dripped sweat. God alone knew what kind of germs a person could carry out of the place.
Ten minutes before the aerobics class ended, Kent stepped off the machine and headed for the showers. He’d timed his arrival at the desk just as Heather exited the women’s locker room. He withdrew his money clip from his pocket and peeled off four one-hundred-dollar bills just as Heather reached the desk. “Hey, Jack, here’s the money for my renewal. I’ll get the receipt next time I come in.”
Nonchalantly, Kent looked around. “Hey, Heather, hold on a minute. I want to ask you something.”
“Hello, Kent.”
Kent cupped her elbow in his hand, and said, “I wanted to ask you about leasing a Buick until I can get my Porsche repaired. If you have the time, let’s go for a drink.”
Heather smiled and nodded.
Kent grinned as he strutted out of the gym.
Jack Silver scowled.
The restaurant was small and intimate, with small banquet rooms whose doorways were strung with colorful hanging beads. They tinkled and made a noise when anyone parted them to walk through. They also afforded a certain amount of privacy. Unless one stopped and peered intently through the beads, it was impossible to see who was sitting at the small tables—tables small enough for one to reach across and hold a partner’s hand.
La Petite was known for its ambiance, terrible food, and colorful drinks. And it was cheap. It was a meeting place for lovers, a place where late-night assignations were finalized. More often than not, most of the couples were married…to someone other than their dinner companion of the moment.
Kent was well-known to the establishment, probably their best customer up to a few weeks ago.This place, he thought,is a little more discreet than the country club. A lot cheaper, too, now that I’m on my own nickel.
A single yellow rose in a small nest of ferns sat in the middle of the table.
Kent smiled at his companion across the table, his pricey porcelain caps, compliments of Rosie, gleaming in the dim, intimate light. He risked a quick glance at the Rolex on his wrist. Perfect timing. Too late for lunch, too early for dinner. Hopefully, in two hours, after several glasses of wine, he could convince Heather to go to her place, providing she had a place. Once he was there, he could say he was hungry. Women still believed the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. He could play that up real good and say heloved home-cooked dinners. Women loved to oblige.
Heather was sizing him up just the way he was sizing her up. He had to figure out what would appeal to this leggy creature.
They made small talk laced with sexy innuendos. He was almost certain he had it in the bag and wouldn’t be spending the night at the Days Inn when Heather leaned across the table, and whispered, “So, Kent, tell me every man’s best-kept secret. Are you a boxer or jockey man?”
He hadn’t had sex in over three weeks. She was a turn-on. He tried to squelch the erection that threatened to erupt. “That’s why they call it a secret. If youreally want to know, you’ll have to check it out yourself.”
She giggled. Only the young ones giggled. Another turn-on. “When?”
Kent wiggled his eyebrows. “How about now?”
Heather giggled again. “You mean we should go for it right here in this banquet room! Are you an exhibitionist?”
Kent leered at her. “Sometimes. How about you?”
She wasn’t giggling now. She waspurring. “All the time. I’m game if you are.”
Whoa.Kent looked at the beads moving in the breeze the A/C created. As hard as he was, he didn’t think he coulddo it here in this little room. He was a creature of comfort.
“How long will it take to get to your place?” he asked huskily.
She was still purring. “Seven minutes.”
Kent’s mind raced. “Tell you what, sweetheart. I’ll settle up here and meet you at your place. I’ll give you five extra minutes toget ready for me. All I need is your address.”
She rattled it off. “All I need is sixty seconds. If that.” There was a sexy growl in her voice now. He grew harder. Sixty seconds meant naked. He loved naked.
“You’re wasting time, sweetheart.”
She was up and gone in a heartbeat.
Kent groaned as he shifted in his chair. He pulled out the money clip and peeled off a ten-dollar bill. That covered the wine. He’d always been a big tipper, but that was then, and this was now. He fished in his pocket and pulled out four quarters. Ten percent would have to do.
Fifteen minutes later he was ringing the doorbell of a fashionable condo. His jaw dropped when Heather threw open the door. “Like the doormat says, Welcome! Oooh, you’re wearing way too many clothes.”
He was, and then he wasn’t. He reached for her, but she danced away. All he could see thr
ough his lust, which was threatening to strangle him, was a tangle of arms and legs as Heather jiggled to some unheard music, offering up high kicks, her breasts bouncing up and down before she collapsed on the oversize sofa. Kent made a run for it and landed on top of her.
“Show-off,” she whispered, before his lips clamped down on hers.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet, honey.”
7
Rosie sat on the upstairs verandah with her dog. She sniffed, imagining she could smell autumn in the air. She wondered how that was possible since they were in the midst of what people called the dog days of summer.
She was alone, but she was content. Vickie had taken a long weekend and flown to Paris to see her beau. How happy Vickie had been when Rosie’d seen her off at the airport. She couldn’t help but wonder if she herself would ever be that happy. She missed her, though, and she missed Luna Mae, who had also taken a long weekend to go to some NASCAR race where she would meet up with old friends. It was just her and Buddy, the name she’d given to the dog she’d rescued.
Buddy had filled out and was a healthy, happy, devoted dog, never far from Rosie’s side.
Rosie reached down to scratch behind the big dog’s ears. He growled with pleasure. She smiled.
Her life, which she had thought was in chaos a few months ago, was almost right side up. She’d lost eighteen pounds and two dress sizes. She had a new friend in Jack Silver. She liked talking to him after her workout. Not about her personal life although she sensed he knew about it, but more about owning a business, tax problems, and exercise routines. He liked Vickie, Luna Mae, and Buddy. Yes, Rosie liked him. Maybe more than she should. One night she’d fantasized about him until her entire body flushed crimson. He seemed to like her, too, but as a friend. She suspected Jack Silver did not mix business with pleasure.
It was almost three months since she’d kicked Kent out of the house. So far he had not filed for divorce. That was something she was going to have to do. She’d gone to see an attorney, but when it had been time to enter his office, she’d bolted and run. She had yet to schedule another appointment. Maybe she would do it tomorrow after her exercise workout. Maybe.
Then there was the matter of the lottery ticket that still rested under the cushion of the rocker in the spare bedroom. She had to make a decision where the ticket was concerned even though she had months to go before she was required to turn it in. She’d read up on everything she could get her hands on in regard to lottery winners and marital assets. There was no easy out for her. She would have to give half of her winnings to her husband, and it wouldn’t matter if they were divorced or not, because they’d been married at the time of the drawing.
There might be a solution, however, if she wanted to avail herself of it. Vickie and Luna Mae had both come up with the idea. Just turn the ticket over to them, and they would claim the prize, then transfer all the money back to her when things quieted down. She had to admit, she was thinking more and more about agreeing to that.
The three years of her disastrous marriage weren’t all Kent’s fault. Yes, he’d married her for a comfortable life. Yes, he hated her; yes, he’d used and verbally abused her. Yes, he’d cheated on her, spent her money on other women. Yes, to almost everything where Kent was concerned. But the sticking point, the bottom line, the part she was having trouble with was, she had allowed it. In her desperation, anddesperation was the right word, to belong to someone, to be known as Mrs. Somebody, she had allowed everything to go on until she was so miserable she’d made herself sick. She had to share the blame, too.
However, did sharing the blame mean she had to share her lottery win with him? The law would say yes. It wouldn’t matter to a judge or a jury that she had kicked him outbefore she knew she’d won the lottery. If she cheated him, wouldn’t that make her as bad as he was? Did she care?
Rosie shook her head to clear it. She must be really screwed up. No one in her right mind, under these circumstances, would do anything differently than she was doing.
All she was doing was making excuses for herself.
She hated all this heavy-duty thinking. Hated when she got to the part where she couldn’t even give the money away. Oh, she could giveher half away, but not Kent’s. This was when she got a throbbing headache. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to ward it off, but it came anyway. She felt like crying.
The dog, sensing his mistress’s distress, hopped onto the chaise lounge and snuggled close to her. She stroked his silky back as the tears flowed.
The hot tears that she couldn’t hold in check dripped on Buddy’s head. He whined softly as he tried to wiggle closer. “What I don’t understand, what I could never accept, was why Kent hated me so much. I’m notthat ugly, I wasn’tthat fat in the beginning. Why was I so stupid, so blind, that I allowed myself to become a laughingstock in this town? It was me, not him, Buddy. I could have booted him out of here anytime I wanted to. I didn’t want to. I needed that humiliation, needed to see the revulsion in his eyes. That doesn’t say much for me, now does it? I wish you could talk, Buddy.
“You know what else? He’s not getting half that money! I’ll burn the damn ticket before I share it with him, or else I’ll have Luna Mae and Vickie give it all away. After we do that, then I’ll tell him what I did. Boy, I can’t wait to see the look on his face. One nice word, that’s all it would have taken, and I would gladly have shared even though I bounced him out of here. One nice word, sincerely meant, Buddy. I guess Kent was true to himself, he wasn’t going to do or say anything kind or nice if he didn’t feel it.”
Rosie meant to take Buddy outside. She really did. Instead, she headed for the refrigerator. Her mouth started to water when she saw all the good things she was no longer allowed to eat. Oh, God, why did Luna Mae buy all this stuff? Moon Pies. A whole box full. Pineapple coconut ice cream. Three quarts. Brownies. Half a box. Cheese. Wonderful, golden yellow cheese. Pounds of it. What to eat first? If she was going to fall off the wagon, why couldn’t she eat a little of everything? No one would know unless Luna Mae kept a mental inventory of the contents. Did she care? She decided she didn’t as she ripped off a chunk of yellow cheese. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she chewed and munched.
When Rosie finally closed the refrigerator and freezer doors, she felt sick. Even worse, she was disgusted with herself. “What’s wrong with me, Buddy?” she sobbed. The big dog whined and nuzzled her hand as she tried to pet him. She continued to sob. “I just blew all the hard work I did. Oh, God! I thought I turned over a new leaf in my life. This just proves I have no willpower, no backbone. I’m a waste of a human being!” Rosie felt her legs crumble underneath her. She allowed herself to slump to the floor, where she cried even harder. Buddy did his best to lick away her tears.
A long time later, Rosie struggled to her feet. Her eyes murderous, her chin determined, she cleaned all the goodies out of the refrigerator and freezer. When she was done, the only thing left was a loaf of five-grain bread, vegetables, fruit and yogurt. She didn’t feel one bit better but she was determined not to repeat this mistake again. Never again!
“C’mon, let’s take a walk around the yard, then it’s time for bed. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll feel better when I wake up. Maybe a lot of things.”
The big dog was on his feet in an instant, padding along at her side.
Woman and dog. For now, it was enough.
They were like old friends these days, she and Jack Silver. She liked snapping and snarling at him, marveling at his composure, his low-key approach to her and everything in general. When he was in a bad mood and trying not to show it, she’d be sweet andnoodgey. Most times she could cajole him out of his dark moods.
She liked Jack, really liked him. He was never anything but positive where she was concerned. His words, “You can do this,” had made a believer out of her. She worked hard, following the rules, not wanting to disappoint him or herself.
Rosie stepped off the treadmill, wiping at the perspiration dotting her forehea
d. “I think I’m ready to go up to 4.0, don’t you think?”
“Another week or so. We’ll see. I’d like to see you run in the morning. Do you think you can handle that? I can meet you the first few times you go out, then you’re on your own. You can take Buddy with you. It will be good for him.”
“Sure. Does that mean I’ll take the weight off faster? I know, I know, I’m obsessed with the weight. It’s not coming off fast enough. I haven’t deviated from the diet, I’ve done everything you said. I weighed myself this morning, and I don’t like the numbers on the scale.”
Jack stretched his neck as if to loosen up some tight kinks. “I told you to stay off the scale, didn’t I, Rosie?”
“Yes, you did. That’s the only rule I’ve broken. I won’t do it again. It’s not that I want instant gratification. I don’t know what it is.” Rosie hung her head in shame. “Wait. That’s not true. I lied to you just now. I…I…yesterday, I was feeling sorry for myself and I…I ate everything that was in the refrigerator. Not all of it, but some of everything. I totally blew my diet. I ate so much I made myself sick and even then I kept on eating. Then I had a real good cry.” She held up her hand. “You don’t have to say anything. I cleaned out the refrigerator. There’s nothing left but good stuff.” Her tone turned belligerent. “Don’t ask me to promise not to do that again. I don’t want to make a promise to you I might not be able to keep. I hope I don’t falter again, but I might. If I do, I’ll deal with it. Now, can we move along here?”
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