Chapter Twenty-Four
Six Months Later
As I steppedback from my lunge into plank position, I let out a long breath and a stream of curses. “That stupid piece of shit couldn’t find his own pecker with a magnifying glass and a map. Fucking dickfaced turd bird.”
I pulled in a slow, deep breath and lowered my body to the floor as I released it. I followed the pattern of poses in Sun Salutations, focusing on my breathing until I was in downward facing dog pose. Then I let it rip.
“I can’t believe that fuckwad tried to get me fired when he’s the one who’s incompetent.”
I finished up the series of poses and lay on the floor in Shavasana, trying to relax. My day had been trying, to say the least. A junior partner in the firm had fucked up big time then he made it even worse by trying to pass the buck to me since we were working together. I managed to hold my temper during the meeting with Marie Cairns but I really wanted to stab him in his smug face with my stiletto.
I left work early since Lucy’s rehearsal dinner was that evening and hoped that yoga would help me let go of the troubles of my day. His poor attempt to take the heat off his mistakes and pin the blame on me wouldn’t come to anything. Marie promised me as much.
The last thing I needed was to be pissed off and stressed out during Lucy’s rehearsal dinner tonight and her wedding tomorrow.
“Feel better?” Jordan asked.
I cracked an eye open and looked toward the door to see my husband leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed. When Jordan and I got married last month, I’d moved into his house and immediately begun making it my own. I assumed I would drive him crazy with my pickiness and details, but he seemed to enjoy the process of buying furniture and making each room special and homey.
His house was huge, with four bedrooms, two living areas, and a study large enough for us to put two desks inside so we could both use it as a home office. It was too much house for only two people, but that would change soon.
In the fourth bedroom, I’d set up a makeshift home gym with yoga mats, an elliptical machine, and free weights. After particularly long or difficult days, I often came in here and went through my ritual of practicing yoga while expressing all the things I’d been forced to hold back during the day.
I had the temper to match my red hair but years of practice had made it easier for me to hold my tongue when people pushed me. Still, all that annoyance wasn’t healthy and I needed to release it somehow.
I tried kickboxing before yoga, thinking that an aggressive activity would be the most effective at relieving my stress. It was, but I had a tendency to collect bruises, sore muscles, and even the occasional scrape. Busted knees and a black eye detracted from my professional image, so I’d decided to find another way to work out. Hence my habit of yoga and swearing.
Most yoga teachers would have frowned upon the practice, but it made me feel better and that’s all that mattered to me.
“Yeah, I’m better,” I murmured.
“I’m proud of you for not stomping his balls flat,” Jordan commented, straightening from the door and sauntering over to the weight bench beside me. “The little twat deserved it.”
“Yeah, well Marie is going to keep an eye on him. I doubt he’ll last much longer if he makes another mistake like that one.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “Right now, I need to stop thinking about it or I’ll be in a bad mood for Lucy’s rehearsal dinner.”
“Hmmmm,” Jordan replied.
I opened my eyes again to find him sitting on the weight bench, staring at my barely clad body. “Oh, no. Wipe that look right off your face. It’s going to take me an hour to get ready for this thing and I still have to shower first. There’s no time for the naked mambo.”
“Naked mambo?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“Whatever you want to call it, we don’t have time for it.”
“We could shower together,” he suggested, a gleam in his eye. “That’ll save time and water.”
I rolled to my feet and moved away from him. “I don’t think so.” Then I squeaked when his arms came around my waist from behind and he started guiding me toward our bedroom. “Jordan, I swear to God, if you make us late…”
“I’ll be quick, I promise.”
“You’d better not be too quick,” I grumbled, which made him laugh against the nape of my neck. The warmth of his mouth on my skin and the vibrations of his laughter made a shiver shoot through me, moving straight down my spine to between my legs. “Okay,” I relented. “But I’m telling Lucy it’s your fault if we’re late.”
We made itto the rehearsal just in time. Though Chris and Lucy were having a small wedding, Lucy insisted that Yancy, Grier, Chelsea, and I were in her wedding party. Chris had three groomsmen. Landen Weber was Chris’ friend from college, Charles Faulkner was Yancy’s boyfriend, and surprisingly he had asked Marcus Flynn, an old friend of Lucy’s. Considering Marcus once had a thing for Lucy, I couldn’t believe Chris had done it.
Until I saw the way Grier looked at Marcus when he wasn’t paying attention. And the way Marcus looked at Grier.
Chris wasn’t the one who’d arranged that. It was Lucy all the way.
The rehearsal went smoothly and was mercifully quick, then we all made our way to the restaurant for dinner. Lucy and Chris had reserved the patio of a fantastic French restaurant. In the early fall, evenings were perfect for alfresco dining. The temperature might be in the eighties during the day but fell into the seventies after dark.
