Page 48 of Racing Hearts

“Thanks, Susan.”

Next, Mom motions to an older man with a smartly trimmed beard and brow-line glasses. “And Rob, my business partner.”

He reaches out a hand to shake mine in a firm grasp. “I’ve heard so much about you that this is a genuinely exciting moment for me.”

Mom beams at him. “Rob is responsible for this dream becoming reality,” she explains. “He’s got the head for the business side of things. And he’s very comfortable with a spreadsheet. You two would get along.”

I nod and smile, even as some kind of demonic leprechaun kicks off a dance party in my stomach. Because Adrian is the next, and last, person in the semicircle. Mom is going to introduce him. Then he’ll make eye contact with me. I might vaporize.

“Mimi is being far too modest,” Rob says tenderly. “She’s the heart of this operation. I’m just the support crew.”

Mom elbows him, and then catches my gaze pointed at Adrian’s bare feet.

“Right,” she says warmly. “This is Adrian. He’s a rowing coach!”

“Hey, Kath,” he says. His smile looks easy again, no traces of tension haunting it anymore.

“Hey,” I say, striving for the same level of nonchalance, but I’m positive that hey was approximately two octaves higher than the last couple.

Mom clearly doesn’t miss any of this because her eyes cut between us. “You two already met? At the boathouse?”

“Actually, we fought a duel for a lemon bar,” Adrian says.

“And I won,” I add.

Adrian squeezes his lips to repress a smile. “That seemed self-evident.”

I forcibly beat back the surge in my stomach. “How is it that you two know each other?”

“I offered some free yoga classes to teachers and coaches as one of the opening events for the studio.”

“They were a huge success,” Rob adds. “Just one class with Mimi and they’re hooked.”

“Nonsense.” She swats at his shoulder, but I can’t miss the glow in her eyes.

She should be proud. If I can cast Adrian’s expanse of pectoral muscles out of my mind for five seconds, I remember to be awed, too. Her studio seems to be an unequivocal success and, in the few moments during class when I wasn’t incapacitated, I enjoyed myself.

“This class was great, Mom, and the studio is beautiful. I can also see why yoga is a solid recovery tool.”

From the corner of my eye, I catch Adrian beaming. My neck warms.

Mom is now glancing between us, a small, twisted smile on her face.

“Rob!” she says suddenly. “I need to talk to you about year-end accounting.”

Rob’s bushy eyebrows draw together. “It’s July?”

“Or, you know, the other number things. The numbers we have to think about in July. We’ll just be off!” With sudden intensity, she rams Rob and Susan with her tiny hands and whisks them away.

“Wait, didn’t you need me for something?” I call after her. “You said you wanted to talk after class.”

“Oh, no,” she says over her shoulder without pausing her escape. “Rob and I have very important numbers to attend to. You and I can talk later.”

I detect the barest wink in one of her gray eyes.

God, not her, too.

Adrian shifts his weight and runs a hand through his hair. “Were you serious about being calorie deficient?”