whisper in wonderment.
“I’ll bet this page was totally worked on by spinmeisters,” Paige says. “Her picture was photoshopped big-time!”
I look at her and smile. “You are a true friend.”
“Seriously, Em. She can’t be that great. Let’s look at other sites and images,” she urges.
We go through dozens of sites and examine pictures from many sources. My head aches from surfing for at least an hour and a half. By the end of our session, Paige and I look blankly at each other. She doesn’t want to say anything, so I do. “You can say it. I’ve already accepted it. She’s a goddess whereas I am hopelessly mortal.”
She purses her mouth stubbornly. “You don’t know her. She may be evil incarnate. She’s a seductress and she’s holding Jake captive through witchcraft.”
We both burst out laughing. “That’s all you have? Witchcraft and seduction? With looks and brains like that, you don’t need anything else to keep a man.”
“It’s not always about the looks. Chemistry is important,” she says somberly.
“How could they not have chemistry? You keep forgetting that they were, at some point, close to being engaged. Maybe they even were.” I want her to surrender, just like I have.
“No, I don’t know what it is, but something doesn’t add up. I’m not trying to raise your hopes or anything like that. I just have a feeling.” She does look bewildered, so I just shrug as if to say ‘suit yourself.’
“Her last tweet is about attending a fundraiser this coming week for the Legal Aid Foundation of Los Angeles. How about if we crash the party?” she suggested.
“No freaking way! That’s crossing the line and becoming an actual stalker.” I look at her like she’s lost her marbles.
“Just a thought. As if what we’re doing isn’t stalking, in a manner of speaking,” she replies mildly.
“I’m going home, Paige, before you start coming up with more sinister ideas.” We both stand up and hug one another tightly.
“Call me as soon as you have news about your dad, okay?” I tell her firmly. She nods wordlessly and I walk to my car, wrapped in thought about everything we just talked about.
Do I really want to know what Jake and his girlfriend are doing, or is ignorance bliss?
CHAPTER 7
This week, I decide to go for yoga classes at the local YMCA. I want the relaxed feeling that comes from the slow-paced breathing and stretching. Classes start tomorrow, and I want to be mentally prepared. Besides, it’s one more thing that can help distract me from my depressing thoughts.
The wonderful thing about living in Burbank is that everything you need is, at the most, ten minutes away. So, in eight minutes, I’m going up the driveway and parking in the garage. It’s a really warm night, and since tonight’s class was a Bikram class, I worked up a sweat and I feel my top and sweatpants sticking to me.
It’s only half past seven, and Jake won’t probably be home until ten, so I guess it’s safe to go for a quick swim in the pool. I go directly to my room, drop my yoga mat and gym bag on the floor, and grab a towel. I get my favorite bikini, but think better of it. What’s the point? No one’s here and I can have the big pool all to myself. I take off my sandals, wrap the towel around me, and go to the pool.
Of course the indoor pool is temperature-controlled, so I don’t have to prepare myself for the initial shock of the bracing cold. I leave my towel on the side and go down the steps. The water is deliciously warm and I start to do my front crawl strokes. I can’t believe I’ve never done this before. Paige and I swim a lot at her family mansion’s outdoor pool. But this is so different. I’m swimming indoors in complete privacy, and in my birthday suit.
After at least ten laps, I change it up a bit by floating on my back and lazily doing the backstroke. The atmosphere is so tranquil that I allow myself to just float like that for many minutes.
“Enjoying
“I’ll bet this page was totally worked on by spinmeisters,” Paige says. “Her picture was photoshopped big-time!”
I look at her and smile. “You are a true friend.”
“Seriously, Em. She can’t be that great. Let’s look at other sites and images,” she urges.
We go through dozens of sites and examine pictures from many sources. My head aches from surfing for at least an hour and a half. By the end of our session, Paige and I look blankly at each other. She doesn’t want to say anything, so I do. “You can say it. I’ve already accepted it. She’s a goddess whereas I am hopelessly mortal.”
She purses her mouth stubbornly. “You don’t know her. She may be evil incarnate. She’s a seductress and she’s holding Jake captive through witchcraft.”
We both burst out laughing. “That’s all you have? Witchcraft and seduction? With looks and brains like that, you don’t need anything else to keep a man.”
“It’s not always about the looks. Chemistry is important,” she says somberly.
“How could they not have chemistry? You keep forgetting that they were, at some point, close to being engaged. Maybe they even were.” I want her to surrender, just like I have.
“No, I don’t know what it is, but something doesn’t add up. I’m not trying to raise your hopes or anything like that. I just have a feeling.” She does look bewildered, so I just shrug as if to say ‘suit yourself.’
“Her last tweet is about attending a fundraiser this coming week for the Legal Aid Foundation of Los Angeles. How about if we crash the party?” she suggested.
“No freaking way! That’s crossing the line and becoming an actual stalker.” I look at her like she’s lost her marbles.
“Just a thought. As if what we’re doing isn’t stalking, in a manner of speaking,” she replies mildly.
“I’m going home, Paige, before you start coming up with more sinister ideas.” We both stand up and hug one another tightly.
“Call me as soon as you have news about your dad, okay?” I tell her firmly. She nods wordlessly and I walk to my car, wrapped in thought about everything we just talked about.
Do I really want to know what Jake and his girlfriend are doing, or is ignorance bliss?
CHAPTER 7
This week, I decide to go for yoga classes at the local YMCA. I want the relaxed feeling that comes from the slow-paced breathing and stretching. Classes start tomorrow, and I want to be mentally prepared. Besides, it’s one more thing that can help distract me from my depressing thoughts.
The wonderful thing about living in Burbank is that everything you need is, at the most, ten minutes away. So, in eight minutes, I’m going up the driveway and parking in the garage. It’s a really warm night, and since tonight’s class was a Bikram class, I worked up a sweat and I feel my top and sweatpants sticking to me.
It’s only half past seven, and Jake won’t probably be home until ten, so I guess it’s safe to go for a quick swim in the pool. I go directly to my room, drop my yoga mat and gym bag on the floor, and grab a towel. I get my favorite bikini, but think better of it. What’s the point? No one’s here and I can have the big pool all to myself. I take off my sandals, wrap the towel around me, and go to the pool.
Of course the indoor pool is temperature-controlled, so I don’t have to prepare myself for the initial shock of the bracing cold. I leave my towel on the side and go down the steps. The water is deliciously warm and I start to do my front crawl strokes. I can’t believe I’ve never done this before. Paige and I swim a lot at her family mansion’s outdoor pool. But this is so different. I’m swimming indoors in complete privacy, and in my birthday suit.
After at least ten laps, I change it up a bit by floating on my back and lazily doing the backstroke. The atmosphere is so tranquil that I allow myself to just float like that for many minutes.
“Enjoying
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