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stay fit, what’s your secret if it’s not yoga?” Kim felt an instant kinship with Jerry; they were obviously cut from the same cloth.
“I box, at least I used to.” Jerry frowned slightly. “No, really,” she responded to Kim’s raised eyebrows. “It’s a great way to maintain all this,” she indicated her body with a sweep of her hand, “and release frustration at the same time.”
“That’s something I’ve never considered. Boxing. Why did you stop?” Kim was intrigued, she knew something about frustration.
“My sparring partner became too aggressive and I got bruised. Ethan, my friend , didn’t like it. So I stopped.” Jerry tossed her hair again. “We moved here a week later and this is the first opportunity I’ve had to work out at all.”
“We do have to keep our friends happy.” Kim smiled in sympathy. “You have beautiful hair, it reminds me of my friend Sonja’s,” she added.
“Thanks. It’s a job keeping it long, but Ethan likes it. I’d have it short, like yours, if it were up to me.” Jerry preened a little, as was expected. “Does Sonja take classes here too? I need to find a good stylist in the area, one who can deal with long hair.”
“Yes, but she had other plans this afternoon. She’ll probably be here tomorrow. You can meet her then, if you come back.”
“If I can get out of bed, you mean.” Jerry laughed.
Kim looked at her watch, a white gold Rolex Cellini Cellissima. “Oops, I’ve gotta run. Charlie’s dropping by after work today. It was nice talking with you, Jerry. I hope you make it back tomorrow.” Kim’s smile was as genuine as the diamonds encircling her watch.
“Thanks, Kim, I’ll try. It was nice meeting you, too.” Jerry raised her orange juice and nodded, grateful that she didn’t wear her old, reliable Timex to class. As Kim left, Jerry found her phone and sent a text to Dylan, asking for an update. She hoped Ethan was sleeping; he’d looked dead on his feet by the time she’d left the condo.
While waiting for Dylan’s response, she sipped her juice and let her mind wander to the roller coaster ride of emotions she’d felt since meeting Ethan Barnes. To say that he was a surprise was a gross understatement. Up until that very morning, Jerry had secretly harbored a crush on Dylan. She was biding her time until he seemed ready to move on after his divorce. She knew how crazy it was to fall for a coworker, and she didn’t sit idly by, waiting for the phone to ring. She enjoyed dating, but thoughts of Dylan were always in the back of her mind. He was the measuring stick she used to judge all other men. Until this morning.
It occurred to her that she hadn’t compared Ethan to Dylan once. In fact, whatever romantic feelings she thought she had for Dylan seemed to vanish as soon as she opened the door to Ethan. Strange.
And that kiss, she thought and felt an involuntary shudder race through her. That kiss was like nothing she’d ever experienced, and she’d kissed her fair share of men. “None who looked like that,” she muttered aloud. Her physical reaction to him had been startling, but the attraction had only deepened as she’d gotten to know him.
He’d shared a little of his childhood, growing up on the Gold Coast of Australia. His father was a Diplomat, his mother was a pediatrician. Shades of loneliness had crept into his voice when he talked of being an only child, but they were soon overshadowed by the obvious love he felt for his family. “They gave me everything,” he’d said, “a solid foundation, education, travel and most of all their time. As busy as they were, I always knew that I came first.” Jerry envied him that and had managed to quickly change the subject when he asked about her childhood. For some reason, she didn’t want to lie to Ethan, but she was also not ready to tell him the ugly truth, especially in the face of his idyllic upbringing.
Dylan’s detailed text came through just as she rose to leave the club. A