Page 136

“Hey. How’s the trip going?”

“Incredibly boring.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Next time, you’re coming with me,” I told her.

“We’ll see,” she murmured on the other end of the line. She seemed distracted. I had been so pleased she’d finally answered her phone that I hadn’t picked up on how distant she sounded until that moment.

“Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine. Oh, and thank you for the flowers, by the way.”

I noticed she didn’t mention the returned necklace but decided not to bring it up. I missed her, and I didn’t want to spoil our conversation by risking an argument.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” I asked again instead.

“I’m good, really I am. I’m just tired and a little sore. It’s been a long day.”

She does sound tired.

Perhaps that was truly all that was wrong.

“I thought Walter would have gone easy on you since today was your last day.”

“Oh, work was alright,” she assured me. “I’m just worn out because I was up early and at the gym by six o’clock this morning. I couldn’t get an evening appointment with the trainer I like to work with, so I had to go in early if I wanted to meet with him.”

Him?

The idea of Krystina having a one on one training session with another man made me uncomfortable.

Extremely uncomfortable.

Am I jealous? Since when do I get jealous?

“I didn’t know you had a trainer,” I said, trying to sound indifferent.

“It’s pricy, so I don’t do it often. But Eric is a good motivator, and I needed him to get me back into a routine.”

Eric? So, the asshole has a name.

I pictured Krystina in spandex shorts, possibly a sports bra. With her midriff slick with sweat and face flushed from exertion, she would have been a provocative sight to behold. Hopefully, she had the sense to cover up with a T-shirt.

Either way, I didn’t like the situation one bit. I made a mental note to set Krystina up with my personal trainer—someone I knew and trusted to keep his sweaty paws off her.

“Routine is good, but don’t overdo it. You need to save some energy for the weekend,” I joked, suppressing the uncharacteristic jealousy that wanted to come lashing out.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that—the weekend that is,” she said a little too quickly.

“What about it? I mean, I’ve been keeping up with the storm, and I know flights into New York have been delayed indefinitely. But I’ll make sure I’m back in time for the party at Murphy’s.”

“Oh, it’s not that. Although, I’m glad you decided to come. This is about Saturday.”

“What about it?”

She went on to tell me about her planned girls’ day out and how flight cancelations forced them to reschedule for Saturday. Then she proceeded to talk non-stop about how poor the weather would be for boating, barely pausing to take a breath. She sounded nervous, almost as if she was afraid to tell me about the change of plans.

“I’m sorry. I know I promised you the weekend,” she finally finished.