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a date. We were both out with our friends and happened to run into each other at the same bar. She recognized me from the gym and approached me with a cloud of desperation, heavily sedated with liquid confidence. I didn’t take her home. I kissed her though, against my better judgment, and I immediately regretted it the second I pulled away and caught that dreamy look in her eye. I tended to avoid girls like her – the ones who dreamt of growing up and being a doctor’s wife. Women need more ambition than that.
    “We bumped into each other,” I lift the weight with my legs and lower it steadily, repeating and counting silently until I reach ten reps. I climb off and take a drink of water, giving myself a rest period. Stephanie is still staring at me, yammering on about something, but I’ve tuned her out.
    “So anyway, Sut,” she leans into me, lifting her fingertips to the indentation of my triceps. “Nice tris.”
    I climb back on the machine. I’m not trying to be a dick, but I know what happens with girls like Stephanie. You give them an inch, and they take a mile. If I give her so much as a sliver of hope, she’ll take it and run with it.
    “What are you doing this weekend?” she asks.
    “Working. I work every weekend.” I count out ten more reps and pull in a deep breath, biding my time until she scampers away and hits on the next muscled and tatted meathead who walks through the doors.
    “You work too hard,” she giggles. “Live a little. Take a break. Have some fun.”
    “Thanks for the advice.” I hammer out ten more reps and move on to the next machine. Stephanie follows. “Not working out today?”
    “Oh, I am,” she says. “My pli-yo class doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes. I’m early.”
    I adjust the weights and knock out fifteen reps on this machine. I’m about ready to forgo my weight workout for thirty minutes on a cardio machine where I can tune her out with a pair of headphones and my music, when I catch her face falling a bit.
    She’s losing hope, which is good, because as far as I’m concerned I set my standards years ago with Lauryn Hudson, and no one since has ever come close.

CHAPTER SIX – LAURYN
     
    “I’m back,” I call, shutting my apartment door. James is drinking coffee and watching golf. He turns and smiles. “Want to go get lunch? I know it’s still kind of early, but there’s this great place around the corner that fills up fast, so-”
    “Sure.” James stands. He’s showered and dressed. He brushes past me, stopping to kiss my forehead, and then slips his shoes on.
    We stroll hand in hand down the sidewalk, and I pull in lungful after lungful of thick, humid, Miami air. James doesn’t seem to mind it. He’s never complained since I moved here. Not once. He doesn’t mind much of anything though. I glance up at him as we walk. I can’t see his eyes through his dark sunglasses, but his forehead seems dry. He’s not even breaking a sweat. It’s as if he’s used to the heat, which is interesting given the fact that he’s a born-and-bred New Englander.
    “Here we are,” I announce, pulling him toward an open door where an ice-cold café awaits us. The hostess seats us in the back by the restrooms, but James doesn’t complain. Then again, he never complains about anything.
    “This place has amazing hibiscus tea,” I rave, flipping open the menu.
    “How was work this morning?” James asks. “Putting out anymore Connie fires?”
    “She’s a little worked up over this new drug launch,” I say with a mini eye roll. “She’ll get over it like she always does. I guess for this campaign, corporate hired some local doctor to be the face of the new drug. He’ll go with me to events and luncheons and help answer questions. His face is in all the brochures too. I’d have thought they’d have used a middle-aged woman for this but-”
    “It’s corporate. Who knows?” James shakes his head and flips the page of his menu.
    “I’ll be