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“See?” Ben smiles at Frankie.
“I’ve been working out four times a week lately,” Frankie continues.
“Right,” I say. “To get in shape for your wedding.”
Then I glance at Frankie’s left hand. She’s not wearing her engagement ring.
She reddens.
Ben doesn’t seem to notice. He’s not interested in Frankie that way, no matter how much she would like him to be.
“Mandy wants to get in shape for my wedding, too,” Frankie continues.
I lift my eyebrows. “Oh?”
“Well, it won’t hurt me to lose a few pounds.” Mandy shrugs.
Except that her body is perfect as it is. I always thought it was, and now that I’ve seen her naked? Iknowit is. She’s the only one who doesn’t.
“I think you’re both beautiful,” Ben says, “but working out isn’t just for looking better. It’s for feeling better.”
“Absolutely,” Frankie agrees, dazzling him with her smile once more—or attempting to.
Mandy says nothing, just gives her total attention to Ben’s special smoothie.
Within a few minutes, she’s done. “Ready, Frankie? My appointment is”—she checks her watch—“soon.”
“Your appointment is in forty-five minutes, Mandy.”
“Sure, but I want to get there early. You know, I need to change. Maybe have a steam.”
“You have a steamafterthe workout,” Frankie says.
“I think I want one before my workout.” She rises, walks the fifteen feet to the trash can, throws in her empty smoothie cup, and returns. “Thanks so much for the smoothie. And…I’m sorry for the other day.”
“No worries. I totally understand.” Ben smiles. “Maybe next time we can actually share that meal.”
He’s flirting with her, but Mandy doesn’t seem to notice.
“Come on, Frank,” she says.
Frankie smiles, though it’s forced. Clearly she’d rather stay here and talk to Ben. “Okay, coming.”
Once they’re gone, I glare at Ben.
“You know, just because your brother signs my paychecks, I can still kick the shit out of you.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
Ben and I are pretty evenly matched. But damn, I’m pissed off.
“Now I’mconvincedyou have a thing for her,” he says.
“You’re full of it.”
“Are you kidding me, Jack? I just witnessed the twenty-nine-year-old version of you pulling on her pigtails at recess. You’ve got it bad.”
“You’re wrong. I just look out for her. She’s my best friend.”
