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Rob. Trust me.”
    “Famous last words,” he mumbles.

With the Razzo account comes membership to Social Workouts. Andrea hasn’t been able to utilize the membership yet, living way out on Long Beach. I take full advantage of the perk. I could never afford this place on my paycheck. They cater to the elite of New York, who have disposable incomes to throw around. I get to benefit for free. Most days, I usually head there right after work. I don’t stay long, leaving before the rush arrives around eight each night.
    The place is amazing. They surely thought this concept through. Training to be a Black Belt requires hours and hours of sparring. I immediately registered for their Taekwondo program. I started my training after my mother was murdered. It not only helped me feel safer, it helped my frame of mind as well. I get great satisfaction in watching a big arrogant dude’s face when I take someone down.
    A small crowd gathers when I spar with one of the female instructors. Once men witness what I’m capable of, their interests become obvious.
    My time at the gym is very regimented. Treadmill, then sparring, and then I take advantage of the free café. Sometimes I take a quick dip in the pool or enjoy a complimentary massage before heading home.
    Those that aren’t interested in socializing while working out can simply wear the wireless headphones. If someone is wearing them, the rules state to have respect and not bother them. Needless to say, I always use the headphones. The owners control the crowd with the number of memberships they allow. Memberships are equally split between male and female. There’s a waiting list. People are dying to get into this place.
    Andrea stands beside me open mouthed. “Holy shit.”
    She said that Rob is working late on a case, and she’d be hanging with me until he’s done. She hasn’t mentioned Ben since last night. My curiosity is killing me. Actually, it’s more like my ego is killing me.
    He acted like he was God’s gift to every female in that club.
    He had an air about him that was arrogant and conceited.
    Ugh, I’d rather die than ask Andrea what he thought of me.
    It’s unlike her to not bring it up, though.
    He must have said something bad.
    Why do I care?
    I don’t.
    He’s a cop with a bad attitude.
    Who the hell needs that ?
    “This is amazing,” Andrea interrupts my pathetic mental rant.
    “It’s not even rush hour yet. You should see this place around eight o’clock.”
    “Give me a tour.”
    I walk with Andrea around the first floor, which holds all the exercise equipment, the sparring mats and boxing rings, classrooms for Zumba and Spinning, the showers, saunas and locker rooms. The second floor holds the café, juice bar, and lounge areas with soft, comfy couches and low tables thrown throughout the empty spaces. A state of the art spa complete with manicure and pedicure stations, as well as private massage rooms, takes up the third floor. Finally, on the top floor you’ll find the indoor Olympic-size swimming pool, hot tubs, and an outdoor sundeck for when the weather permits.
    “I want to live here,” Andrea says when we get back to the first floor. “Specifically, on the third and fourth floors.”
    I laugh at her admission. “You’d get sick of it. Most of these people are here for two reasons, either because it’s the place to be or because they truly feel they’ll meet their soul mates.” I tsk at the last part of my statement.
    Andrea watches me as I change into my exercise clothes. “You’re so cynical.”
    “Why, because I feel the chance of meeting my prince in a pick-up-gym is slim to none?”
    “No, because you feel there’s no such thing as meeting your prince.”
    “That’s not true. For some, like you and Rob, it’s a reality. I believe there are those who are meant to be together, and then there are those whose soul mate doesn’t exist. There can’t be a match for every human on this planet.”
    “Yes there is!” she