introducing her to her husband a few years back, they’d always had a friendly rapport.
Still, just because they were friendly, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t release any and all dirt that she could dig up on him.
Today in particular, he was counting on Judy to do her job.
“How’s John?”
She smiled, looking just as happy about her marriage now as she had a couple of years ago when he’d attended their wedding. “Great, thanks, although we’ve recently adopted a puppy who is running us in circles. And pooping pretty much everywhere.”
“Let me know if you need a dog trainer. I know one of the best.”
“Honestly, I’ll take any help I can get at this point.”
After he gave her Heather’s name and the number for Top Dog, she got down to their standard order of business. “It’s been another great year for you so far. One more game to go before the playoffs. How are you feeling about tonight’s game?”
“Never felt better.”
Her eyebrow rose at his emphatic response. “Really? Any particular reason why?”
Ryan grinned and leaned in closer. “Actually, there is.”
* * *
Despite all the nonsense with James and Anthony, Vicki couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a good day in the studio. It was probably all the repressed sexual desire she was channeling into her work that had her kicking it up a notch.
Lord knew she had to put all that tamped-down lust somewhere.
She stopped to stretch her back and neck and enjoy the way the sun was filtering into the windows in her small room, when she jumped up out of her chair with a curse, her iPod and headphones clattering to the floor.
Crap, it was already six p.m.!
She’d been planning to go back to Ryan’s house to take a shower and blow-dry her hair into submission, maybe even put on some makeup before heading out to his game. Instead, she barely had time to wash her hands and change out of her clay-stained leggings and tank top to put on the old, faded flowery sundress and flip-flops she’d worn into the studio. Vicki groaned as she realized her breasts were half falling out of the dress. She hadn’t been planning to wear it in public, but consoled herself with the fact that no one would be looking at her. Especially not if any of Ryan’s brothers or sisters came to the game and were sitting near her.
Ryan had been the best friend in the world to her this week, and she couldn’t even manage to get to one of his games on time. She sucked.
Since there was no time to make a difference with styling products and mascara, she didn’t bother to look at her reflection in the window as she grabbed her bag, sunglasses, and Ryan’s car keys from the tiled counter. She didn’t even want to know how bad her frizzed-out hair was.
Fifteen minutes later, when she’d arrived at the special lot behind the stadium that Ryan had told her to come to, she had to scramble around in her bag to find the special key card that would let her past the gate. By the time she’d dealt with the guard’s rigorous round of twenty questions and ID checking, a loud roar of applause from the stadium told her that the game had begun. A bead of sweat trickled down between her breasts as she parked between two shockingly expensive imported cars. No wonder it was like Fort Knox getting in here.
She was making a dash for the stadium entrance when she felt buzzing against her hip. She rooted around in her bag again for her phone and was surprised to see several text messages and missed calls from Ryan.
Call me as soon as you get this.
Ryan’s first text had come in several hours ago, but she’d had her headphones on all day while she’d been working and she hadn’t thought to check her phone. He knew she always listened to music while she worked, but he probably didn’t realize she couldn’t blare it in a group studio the way she used to in her parents’ garage, and always had to wear headphones.
After fifteen minutes he’d texted
Still, just because they were friendly, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t release any and all dirt that she could dig up on him.
Today in particular, he was counting on Judy to do her job.
“How’s John?”
She smiled, looking just as happy about her marriage now as she had a couple of years ago when he’d attended their wedding. “Great, thanks, although we’ve recently adopted a puppy who is running us in circles. And pooping pretty much everywhere.”
“Let me know if you need a dog trainer. I know one of the best.”
“Honestly, I’ll take any help I can get at this point.”
After he gave her Heather’s name and the number for Top Dog, she got down to their standard order of business. “It’s been another great year for you so far. One more game to go before the playoffs. How are you feeling about tonight’s game?”
“Never felt better.”
Her eyebrow rose at his emphatic response. “Really? Any particular reason why?”
Ryan grinned and leaned in closer. “Actually, there is.”
* * *
Despite all the nonsense with James and Anthony, Vicki couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a good day in the studio. It was probably all the repressed sexual desire she was channeling into her work that had her kicking it up a notch.
Lord knew she had to put all that tamped-down lust somewhere.
She stopped to stretch her back and neck and enjoy the way the sun was filtering into the windows in her small room, when she jumped up out of her chair with a curse, her iPod and headphones clattering to the floor.
Crap, it was already six p.m.!
She’d been planning to go back to Ryan’s house to take a shower and blow-dry her hair into submission, maybe even put on some makeup before heading out to his game. Instead, she barely had time to wash her hands and change out of her clay-stained leggings and tank top to put on the old, faded flowery sundress and flip-flops she’d worn into the studio. Vicki groaned as she realized her breasts were half falling out of the dress. She hadn’t been planning to wear it in public, but consoled herself with the fact that no one would be looking at her. Especially not if any of Ryan’s brothers or sisters came to the game and were sitting near her.
Ryan had been the best friend in the world to her this week, and she couldn’t even manage to get to one of his games on time. She sucked.
Since there was no time to make a difference with styling products and mascara, she didn’t bother to look at her reflection in the window as she grabbed her bag, sunglasses, and Ryan’s car keys from the tiled counter. She didn’t even want to know how bad her frizzed-out hair was.
Fifteen minutes later, when she’d arrived at the special lot behind the stadium that Ryan had told her to come to, she had to scramble around in her bag to find the special key card that would let her past the gate. By the time she’d dealt with the guard’s rigorous round of twenty questions and ID checking, a loud roar of applause from the stadium told her that the game had begun. A bead of sweat trickled down between her breasts as she parked between two shockingly expensive imported cars. No wonder it was like Fort Knox getting in here.
She was making a dash for the stadium entrance when she felt buzzing against her hip. She rooted around in her bag again for her phone and was surprised to see several text messages and missed calls from Ryan.
Call me as soon as you get this.
Ryan’s first text had come in several hours ago, but she’d had her headphones on all day while she’d been working and she hadn’t thought to check her phone. He knew she always listened to music while she worked, but he probably didn’t realize she couldn’t blare it in a group studio the way she used to in her parents’ garage, and always had to wear headphones.
After fifteen minutes he’d texted
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