Read The Men I Didn't Marry for Free Online Page B

is?”
    Mercifully, I just think that. I don’t actually say it.
    “May I help you?” he asks, casually flexing his biceps when I continue to stand there silently.
    Come to think of it, I don’t really want to kill Ashlee myself, do I?
    “Yes, yes, you could. Would you like to make a little extra money? I need to hire a hit man.”
    I’m pretty sure I don’t really say that out loud, either.
    “I’d like to check out . . . the gym,” I say, stopping myself before I mention that I’m here to check out a certain bouncy-haired husband-stealing personal trainer.
    “Great,” he says brightly, flashing his laser-whitened perfect smile. “You’re in luck. If you sign up today, I can offer an incredible package— twenty percent off the initiation fee, eighteen percent off the monthly fee the first year, and twelve percent off the second year. Plus two free smoothies.”
    “Not right now,” I say. Even if I wanted to join, I’d need the chairman of Citibank to evaluate that deal—or at least Suze Orman.
    “But it’s a really good promotion,” says buff boy, shaking his head. “It expires at noon. I don’t want you to miss out. You just seem like such a nice woman.” He puts his hand meaningfully over mine.
    So Ashlee isn’t the only one around here who seduces clients. I guess with all the competition for clients, gyms have to do more than offer a George Foreman grill to sign you up.
    “Actually, I was hoping to start with a free trial day,” I say, thinking this gym has already cost me dearly.
    “No problem,” he says, quickly filling out a pass and handing it to me.
    I start to ask where I might find Ashlee, but somehow I don’t. Either I can’t bear to summon her up or I’m trying to cover my tracks. If she’s going to end up dead today, I don’t want the trail leading back to me.
    I wander into the locker room to change into my workout clothes. I can practically hear the district attorney making hay out of that slipup. Since I’d thought to bring along gym wear, he’ll up the murder charge to premeditated.
    I pull on a white cotton T and shake out my hair. No, I’m not really going to attack her. I’m a lawyer; my weapon is reason. I’ll stay rational and calm and explain why this is a bad deal for everybody. Lose-lose. Even if Ashlee’s not worried about destroying my family, I can make the case that this is a terrible mistake from her point of view. Does she honestly want a man whose idea of a gourmet treat involves Orville Redenbacher’s popcorn? Is she ready for a lifetime of anniversary presents from Home Depot? She’s a young woman with her whole future in front of her. She doesn’t need an old married guy who snores, pops Lipitor, and wrenches his back taking out the garbage. What a list. Come to think of it, maybe I don’t need him either.
    Suddenly full of courage, I walk over to a young Equinox staff member who’s putting her gear in a locker.
    “Do you happen to know where I could find a personal trainer named Ashlee?” I ask.
    “Sure, she’s right in there,” she says, pointing to a curtained changing alcove.
    I throw back my shoulders, lift my chin, and stride over with my best courtroom confidence. If ever I’ve needed to win a decision, it’s this one.
    “Ashlee?” I call out, my voice firm and friendly.
    “It’s me. Just a second.”
    “No rush,” I say trying to control my breathing, which is suddenly too fast. Really no rush. Do I want to have this confrontation? What was I thinking?
    Suddenly, the curtain pulls back and I see bouncy, glossy hair. It’s Ashlee, in the flesh. Definitely in the flesh. She’s upbeat, all smiles, and perfectly naked. And I mean perfect. Her skin is smooth, her breasts are perky, and—not that I’m looking—she has a teeny bikini wax.
    “Looking for me?” she asks cheerfully. “I was just going to dash into the shower.”
    I try to answer but I’m speechless. So much for my being wise, mature, and telling her how to