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sitting room off the master. Other than that, they’re nearly identical. You should know this shit, Joe. You’re in charge when I’m not here. I can’t hold your hand every goddamn minute.”
    “Sorry, Adam. Got it. Won’t happen again,” Joe said apologetically before exiting the trailer.
    “Rough morning, Adam?” Cecilia asked, handing me a fresh cup of coffee. Her warm smile greeted me as she swept her graying hair away from her face.
    “Just a little,” I said with a shrug.
    “Eva?”
    Sure, let’s go with that. “Yeah, teenage girls.” I raised my eyebrows and let out a long sigh. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do with her some days.” I took a swig of the piping hot coffee and burnt the roof of my mouth. “Guess I was a little short with Joe there, huh?”
    She chuckled softly and the fine lines around her mouth and eyes became more pronounced. “Nah, he deserved it. Even I know the difference between the Berkshire and the Evanston, and I’m just the site receptionist.”
    “You’re not just anything. Don’t sell yourself short. What would I do without you, Ceil?”
    “Probably be as gray as me," she replied, smiling. "But that reminds me. . . Jeff’s coming home from college for the weekend, and he’s bringing his girlfriend. I was wondering if I could leave at noon on Friday so I could pick them up from the train station. I haven’t met her yet.”
    “How am I gonna survive a half a day without you?” I asked, only half kidding.
    Cecilia already knew the answer to her question before I could give it, and thanked me with a kiss on the cheek. “You’re a sweetheart, Adam.”
    And as I watched her return to her desk, I was suddenly overcome with the desire to hear another voice saying those same words.
     

Chapter 5: Max
     
    As I pressed the two hundred and sixty pounds above my chest for the thirtieth time, I was thankful for a little relief. Carefully, I eased the bar in place on its rack and sat up to take a breather. One more set of ten and I’d move on to incline dumbbell presses. In the last few months, I’d really focused on my workout routine. It’s not like I’d ever been lazy. I’d always been athletic and kept in shape. I guess I’d just found myself with extra time to kill lately. No job. No girl. Well, maybe too many girls was my real problem. I needed something to focus my energy on.
    The last time I’d been this serious about a workout regimen had been a few years ago when I’d still played for the Avalanche. Somehow, despite my recent weakness for wings and whiskey, getting back to my old routine helped me pack on an extra fifteen pounds of solid muscle. And my chest and arms showed it.
    I kept to a strict schedule: a serving of Muscle Milk with skim milk for breakfast and a performance drink before my workouts to supply me with strength and energy. This last part was vital since my late nights often left me tired and run-down.
    While the rest of my life spiraled into chaos, the one aspect I seemed to be able to control was keeping in shape. Five to six days a week, I went to the gym, rotating my workouts between my upper and lower body . And I could still knock out three miles in a little less than twenty-five minutes. Not bad for a guy about to turn thirty.
    I wiped the sweat from my face and neck with my towel and made my way over to the chest fly machine. “That’s a ton of weight, isn’t it?” an airy voice asked from behind me as I leaned over to move the pin lower on the weights. “Two hundred pounds? Are you gonna lift all that?”
    I turned around to see a cute blonde standing behind me. “That’s the plan,” I said. As she reached back to adjust her long hair she had tied up in a ponytail, her tits rose higher on her chest. Images of how my hands would fit perfectly around them flitted through my brain. Of course, I couldn’t be sure without checking. I felt my lips spread into a slight smirk at the thought. As I sat on the bench, I made no