Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“Did you kill bad guys?”
“Yep.” Taking my shoulders in his hands, he turns me around, guiding me outside.
“How long were you there for?”
“Almost three years.”
I stumble, and his arm shoots forward, snaking around my waist to keep me upright. I cock my head. “Three years?”
“Three years,” he repeats.
“That’s a long time.”
“It’s three years.”
At no time does he show any emotion. No, “Yay, three years!” No, “gross, three years!” Just “three years.” I can’t imagine what he went through. What he saw. “I dated a guy who was super into military movies. It wasn’t a bad thing because I had an insane crush on Jake Gyllenhaal and he’s in a ton, but, man… to live the real deal.” He opens his car door, and I climb in. Same song and dance. He demands I buckle up, and we’re on our way to Pilates.
Surprisingly, I walk in on time. For once, Glenda isn’t snarling at me. “Since it’s frowned upon to do Pilates in jeans and they probably don’t have a mat big enough for you, why don’t you go make yourself scarce for the next hour?”
“Mindy. Wow, on time. This is a first.” I turn to Becky, offering her my over-the-top, fake-as-hell smile.
“Right? So crazy.”
Her eyes drop to my neck. “Oh my God, what happened?”
“Oh, this? It’s nothing. Work got a little out of control. You know what I mean?” Her lips thin as I hold in my smirk. She knows exactly what I do. And I know she knows because she gossips about it with everybody in class when she thinks I can’t hear. What she doesn’t know is I know her husband has been cheating on her for years. How do I know this? When she’s not paying attention, everyone is gossiping about her.
“Oh…well then…” She takes her beady eyes off me, latching onto Tate. “And who is this?”
The guy who was supposed to make himself scarce. “This is Tate. He’s a reporter. He’s doing a feature about my life. My girlfriend Reece really took to my story when we chatted at book club.”
“Reece?”
“Oh, sorry. Reece Witherspoon? She’s such a hoot.” I wave. “I told her I wasn’t that interesting, but she just wouldn’t let it go. Is insisting she hires a whole team to write about my life.”
“You know Reece Witherspoon?”
“Don’t worry. Tate here will have you all sign a release at the end of class so you’re not mentioned.”
She tucks her hair behind her ear. “I mean… there’s nothing wrong with mentioning we’re Pilates buddies.” She looks back over at Tate and blushes. Gag me. I roll my eyes. “And I just love reading. Maybe sometime I can—”
“Welp! Class is about to begin. Need to grab a spot.”
“Absolutely. There’s one right next to me.”
I would rather cut off a finger. “I would love that, but my stomach…” I circle my palm over my belly and grunt. “Had tacos last night. Not feeling that great. In case I have a… ya know,” I make a fart noise, “emergency, I want to be able to just hop right out.”
My smile broadens as hers disappears. “Have a nice session.”
“You too.”
I wait ’til she’s out of earshot, then mumble, “Bitch.” I turn to my guard dog. “For real, go make yourself invincible, or I’m going to sic Becky on you and tell her you’d love to hear all about her Home Shopping Network business.” I don’t wait for him to reply before finding the farthest spot from Becky.
***
The hour passes quickly, and I’m sweating like a hog. Glenda worked us nice and hard. I struggled through the discomfort of my neck but pushed through. Now, I lay on my mat, half alive, feeling like I could conquer the world. Until a shadow clouds my vision. I open my eyes to see the ogre standing above me. “You’re killing my post-workout Zen.”
“Workout ended ten minutes ago. You fell asleep.”
“Did not.” I sit up to see the entire class is gone. “Shit.” Well, that’s not like me. I shake off my confusion and stand. Bending down to grab my water bottle, I chug it while staring at Tate. Only because he’s staring at me. I’d ask him why he’s staring, but I’m so thirsty.
“While you were passed out, your friend gave me her number. Said in case I needed to interview her.”
I chuckle, spilling water down my chin. “You should call her. I bet that hag hasn’t gotten laid in years. You could both use some loosening up.” I snag my towel and dry my face, making sure not to press over my war wounds.
“I’m not here to get laid. I’m here to do a job.”
“That’s too bad. Did you blow our cover? Or give her your number? I’d love to imagine her waiting by the phone for your call.”
“I didn’t take it.”
I shrug my shoulders. “Your loss.” I grab the rest of my things and head toward the exit. I don’t bother asking Tate what’s next. He should know I go home after Pilates, shower, then veg on the couch until I have to go to work. Tonight, I’m scheduled to be at the studio. The thing is, I don’t think I’m ready to go back there yet.