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Blowing out a breath, I follow the instructor in the stretching, eventually contorting myself into the first pose. I know this is supposed to be calming and clear your mind, but it’s not working. Not like boxing did. Not like Jimmy did. My mind is going a mile a minute, and I can only think about Jimmy.
I have replayed our last conversation a million times over in my head. I have to have done the right thing. It would kill me if it weren’t the right thing. He only said he wanted to date me because he was jealous of Grady. That’s all.
Once Grady left, or once he found out Grady wasn’t my boyfriend or whatever, he would have lost interest. I have to believe that. Otherwise, I broke my heart for no reason at all. That’s not an option.
I control my breathing as the instructor suggested, moving from downward dog into cobra position, blinking again as the tears threaten. This was a bad idea. I can’t be here at Dynamo. Everything about it reminds me of Jimmy.
This classroom looks like where I first met him in Holly’s boot camp class. Shit. Slumping forward, I lie with my forehead pressed against the mat. I fell in love with him. Why the hell did I go and do that? This has to be the stupidest thing I have ever done.
“Are you okay, Thelma?” the instructor’s soft voice washes over me. No. I’m not even close to being okay. I want everything to go away. The stress of work, the tension of this stupid threat, the heartache of not having Jimmy, all of it. Unfortunately, a yoga class isn’t the best place to have a breakdown.
Sitting up, I flash the instructor a tight smile. “Sorry, I’ve got to go.”
She blinks in surprise, nodding as I climb to my feet, collect my bag, and walk out of the room. In my haze of miserableness, I completely forget about Grady. He is at my side in a flash.
“Is everything okay, Thelma?” His voice is low and urgent, his eyes darting around. Oh, he thinks something happened in the yoga class. Well, itdid, but not like that.
“Everything’s fine. I need to go to work.”
Grady nods, tailing me out of the gym and holding the town car door open. I’m vaguely aware I’m still in my workout clothes, but I tug my jacket on, zip it up to my chin, and stare out the window.
“Thelma. Ms. Rampwood?”
I blink in surprise, turning and staring at Grady, standing at the open car door, his back bent as he peers inside, watching me.
“Uh, sorry.”
“We’re at the defender’s office.”
Right. I leave my gym bag, scrambling out and letting Grady hover over me as we walk inside. Henry looks up in surprise as I weave through the desks, still wearing my workout clothes.
“Thelma? Is everything okay?” He holds his office door as I walk inside, sinking into the chair. Grady remains outside as Henry slowly closes the door, moving and taking a seat beside me rather than across the desk.
“You look terrible, Thelma. What’s going on?”
I blink, brushing away the single tear as I turn to him, my gaze settling on Henry’s comforting face.
“I think I might need to take that time off,” I tell him, my voice wobbling pitifully. Henry nods, patting my hand where it lies on the arm of the chair.
“Of course. You’re under an immense amount of pressure with these threats. We never intended you to continue working.”
Nodding, I sniff, accepting his tissue box and wiping my eyes.
Grady is waiting outside Henry’s office, his eyes lingering on my eyes – they’re probably red from the crying. Whatever, he’s my bodyguard. I don’t care that he knows I cried. Again.
“Where to now?” Grady asks as we slide into the town car, still parked at the curb.
“Home. I need to pack.”
“And then where?”
I sigh, rubbing my cheek. “To my father’s office. I need to ask a favor.”
It’s a short drive to my condo, and I pack mechanically. I don’t need much. Sweaters, T-shirts, jeans, some sweatpants… I don’t know how long I will be gone, but I’m not exactly about to be partying it up.
My father looks up in surprise when I walk into his office, my suitcase still in the town car parked in the underground parking garage beneath the building. Behind him, Seattle stretches out. Being a Rampwood partner pays. His office is almost the size of the entire defender’s office, with an enormous desk and a huge lounge suite.
He stands, rounding the desk, his face a mask of concern. I finally changed out of my workout clothes, but he’s not used to seeing me in the middle of a workday, much less dressed in jeans and a sweater.
