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“He’s gonna get fat. I need to talk to Dad about that.”
“Yeah, good luck with that. You know Grandpa won’t listen to anybody.”
“You’re right. I might as well give up before I even try.”
“But six days and we’ll see you in person. Seems like you’ve been gone for months instead of a couple of weeks.”
“I agree. A lot has happened in two weeks. Who knows, by next week I may meet a film director who’ll turn me into a movie star. I could be famous by the time you see me.”
“Will you be willing to associate with us poor Texas folk?”
“Yes, don’t worry… I’ll always remember the little people in my life.”
Anne climbed out of bed and made the decision to head to the gym upstairs and go for a run. She usually went early in the morning or right after work, but she’d been so busy she’d only run twice that week. She was tired, but she knew she’d feel better after a quick workout. She loved running on the treadmills that faced the picture windows overlooking the busy street.
She pulled her still-curly hair into a ponytail and headed up the elevator, surprised to find the gym was busy on a Saturday afternoon. Every treadmill was occupied when she walked in, so she walked by, trying to peek at the distances to guess if someone might be finishing soon. She found a good prospect, a treadmill on the left end that already had ten miles clocked. The occupant was shirtless and glistening with sweat, but still keeping a nice pace. Surely he wouldn’t run much further. She watched him run, admiring the easy stride. He was tanned and well-built, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. There was no extra fat on his body, so she could see his muscles flexing as he ran.
She glanced down at the other runners, but no one seemed to show signs of cooling down. Finally, the treadmill to her right stopped, and the woman relinquished her spot to Anne. She quickly climbed on and pressed start for a manual program, wondering if she could match paces with the long-distance runner on her left. She casually looked at the man’s pace and saw it was set at a six-minute pace. Wow—she could run an eight-minute pace on a good day. Who could run that far at that pace?
Only then did she glance at his face. Of course, it was Steven Gherring. Why was she not surprised? The one person she was most embarrassed to see, the one who thought she’d spent the night with Henri, who surely hadn’t already called him to correct his misconception.
It seemed he hadn’t noticed her. Maybe she could slip away and run later in the day. She turned the machine off and stepped down.
“Is your treadmill not working?”
Of course, he saw me. Why do I have the worst luck in the world?
Gherring slowed his machine to a walk and continued the conversation without looking her direction.
“I suppose this means Henri is gone,” he said in a flat emotionless voice.
“If you mean ‘gone’ as in, gone to Paris, he left at ten a.m. If you mean ‘gone’ as in, left my apartment, that happened last night.” She drummed up an indignant glare. “I know what you think, but you’re wrong about what happened. I’m not that kind of girl. I don’t sleep around.”
“I don’t think you’re that kind of girl. I think Henri’s that kind of man.”
“But it takes two to tango. You still thought I was easy.”
“I thought what he wanted me to think. And with good reason. And he was there. With you. And you had that dress on. Women can’t resist him.”
“I resisted him. Even though I had on that dress,” she spit out sarcastically. She started her treadmill again, going faster than her normal pace, fueled by anger and frustration.
Gherring stood watching her silently. He looked like he had more to say, but instead he moved on to the free weights. Anne finished her run and gathered her things to leave. When she stopped for a drink of water, Gherring came beside her.
“I’m sorry.”
One look at his sincere face, and her anger melted. “It’s okay, I was just embarrassed. I even made Henri promise to tell you the truth.”
Gherring nodded. “If it makes you feel any better, I just found a text from him. He said he wants me to know he slept in his own room last night, because he would never take advantage of his angel.”
“Okay. Let’s promise not to talk about it anymore. So embarrassing. But I have a question… You ran like twelve miles at a six-minute pace? Are you a marathon runner?”
“I do the Iron Man Competition.”
No wonder he had that amazing body. “Where do you ride? Where do you swim?”
“I have a nice bike trainer up in the apartment, and I swim at a YMCA not far from here. When I have time, I prefer training outside.”
“Have you ever won?”
