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around the bar and
     hesitates. “Take off twenty from both ends.” He smirks. “I don’t have any issues to
     sweat out like you.”
    “Fine,” I grumble before removing the weights.
    Rocko watches while I return the weights to the stationary rack behind us. “So, what
     do you plan to do?”
    I shake my head and return to my spotter position. Rocko lifts the bar and starts
     his set. “I’m thinking I need to get right in her face and show her what I can do to her body, make her respond to me before she talks herself out
     of it.”
    Rocko remains silent, concentrating on his form and breathing. At the end he pushes
     the bar into its starting position. “As long as whatever you’re planning won’t get
     a restraining order against you, I say go for it. You only live once, right?” His
     face grimaces. “Sorry man, that slipped out. How is your mom doing?”
    I wave him off. I know he didn’t mean anything by his comment, and I don’t want anyone
     on eggshells around me. “No change. Still in a coma. They think she could go any day
     now.” A sigh rushes out, and the last of my tension leaves with it. “It’s a crappy
     situation all around, but we knew it was leading to this.”
    We select dumbbells and start a round of flys on the incline benches. “How’s Andrea
     holding up?” Rocko wiggles his eyebrows, possibly hoping to interject some lightness
     into the conversation. “Does she need a comforting shoulder or manly hug?”
    His distraction works and a sharp bark of laughter erupts from me. “Man, don’t go
     near my sister. I’ll have to hurt you.”
    “Come on, Ace…she’s so pretty.” Sweat runs down his face as he winks at me. “You sure
     she’s related to you?”
    We finish our workout and part ways. I still feel keyed up and debate on a run, deciding
     against it at the last minute and shower instead. The entire time I’m walking through
     the motions of bathing and then fixing a meal, I contemplate Carla and what to do.
     She wants something spicy in her life, does she?
    I’ve got just what she needs. I change into jeans and a polo then head back out to
     the bar. Here’s to hoping she falls for my plan.
     
     

Chapter Seven
Carla
     
    Two hours after leaving the bar, I can barely nod my head politely while Tall- Handsome-and-Dumb
     speaks. He might be pretty, but I have no desire to take him home. I politely exit
     after our meal, pleading an early morning meeting and files I need to review. Brian
     and I exchange numbers, but I doubt very highly either of us will call. The chemistry
     isn’t there.
    Didn’t have that problem with Andy, did you?
    Could I be wrong and there really is something between us that could spark the sheets
     on fire? I push the thought aside and refuse to linger on the idea. Counting on any
     man is a mistake, and one I intend to avoid.
    Pretty soon I’m home alone, snuggled up with comfy clothes, a cup of hot tea, and
     ready to start a book Heather recommended called Suddenly Beautiful . Last week, she raved about the paranormal story and the hysterical antics of the
     heroine. I gamely agreed to give it a shot.
    A few chapters in, I’m so fully engrossed I don’t glance at the screen when I pick
     up my ringing phone.
    “Hello?”
    “Carla, it’s me.” Andy’s voice comes over the line, slightly distorted by background
     noise.
    A sigh escapes me. I really can’t handle drama tonight. I hear the bitchiness coming
     out in my voice before I rein it in. “What is it, Andy?”
    “I need you to meet me at the bar. I want to talk to you about the Stringer account.”
    “Seriously? Can’t we just talk on the phone?”
    “No,” he says, and hangs up.
    Bastard! He better not be playing a game or I am so going to report his ass at the
     office. With the recent increase in the campaign budget, I could request to work with
     another accountant. The idea fizzles the moment it comes. They’d never switch him
     off the account without a