“There’s a gym in the building.”
“They showed it to me on my tour. Very impressive.” There had been several treadmills and ellipticals, along with weight machines and three sets of free weights.
“I work out every morning,” Jack said. “It’s pretty quiet at five.”
“In the morning?” She shuddered. “That’s because more normal people are sleeping. I can’t believe you get up that early.”
“I’m lucky. I don’t need a lot of sleep.”
“Apparently not. Most of the year, it’s dark at that time.”
“They have lights in the gym.”
They’d need more than that to get her there. Coffee, for starters. And bagels.
“I’m not really into the whole sweat thing,” Samantha told him. “I’ve been lucky. I don’t seem to gain weight.”
It sort of went with what was kindly referred to as a boyish figure. She decided it was a trade-off. Sure she didn’t have anything to fill out her bras and padding was required to hint at anything resembling cleavage, but she’d never counted calories or given up carbs. She could eat what she wanted and still have the world’s boniest butt.
“Exercise isn’t just about weight loss. It keeps you healthy.”
“So does getting enough sleep. Besides, I’m a big walker. I can go for miles.” As long as there was plenty of food along the way. One of the things she missed about New York. All the street vendors and little delis where a pretzel or ice-cream craving could be instantly satisfied.
They walked through a grove of trees and came out in a huge open area. There were already a half-dozen dog owners and their pets running around. Jack found a spot in the sun and set down his backpack.
“Equipment,” she said. “So what exactly is involved in your Saturday-morning ritual?”
He pulled out a blanket. “For me,” he said. Then a ball. “For Charlie. We start with this and work up to the Frisbee.”
He unclipped Charlie from the leash, then threw the red rubber ball what seemed like at least a quarter mile.
Charlie took off after it, grabbed it and raced toward him.
“Impressive,” she said. “The dogs don’t get crabby with each other?”
“Not usually. Most people know if their dogs are social or not. There have been the occasional fights, but it’s rare.”
Charlie bounded toward them and dropped the ball at her feet. She winced.
“I throw like a girl,” she told the dog. “You won’t be impressed.”
Jack laughed. “Come on. He’s not going to be critical.”
“Uh-huh. You say that now, but neither of you has seen me throw.”
She picked up the slightly slobbery ball, braced herself and threw as hard as she could. It made it, oh, maybe a third of the way it had before. Charlie shot her a look that clearly asked if that was the best she could do before running after the ball. This time when he returned, he dropped it at Jack’s feet.
“So much for not being critical,” she said.
Jack laughed and tossed the ball again.
They settled on the blanket. The sun felt good in the cool morning. She could hear laughter and dogs barking. Families with children in strollers walked on the paved path that went around the dog park. There was the occasional canine tussle, but as Jack had said, no real trouble.
After about fifteen minutes of catch, Charlie came back and flopped down next to them.
“He’s just resting,” Jack told her. “Soon he’ll be ready for the Frisbee. Then watch out. He can catch just about anything.”
She rubbed the dog’s belly. “I can’t wait to see him in action.”
“He’ll show off for you.”
“I hope so.”
Charlie licked her arm, then closed his eyes and wiggled in the sun.
“What a life,” she said. “I used to see dogs in New York all the time. I wondered what it was like for them to be in a city, but Charlie is hardly suffering.”
Jack narrowed his gaze. “Is that a crack about the doggy day care?”
“No. Of course not. Why would I say anything about that?” She was careful not to smile as she spoke.
“Somehow I don’t believe you, so I’m going to change the subject. Do you miss New York?”
She crossed her legs and shrugged out of her jacket. “Sure. It’s a great city. But I can already see the potential here. The feeling is different, but in a good way. In New York I always felt I had to be going or doing or I’d miss something. I don’t feel so frantic here.”
“I like it. And the people. Are you missing your ex?”
A subtle way to ask about her divorce, she thought. It was a fair question. “No. The marriage was over long before I left. Unfortunately, I didn’t notice.”
“Did he agree with that?”
“No. Vance wasn’t happy about me leaving.” She ignored the memories of fights and screaming. “I just couldn’t trust him anymore and once trust is destroyed, it’s over.”
“He cheated?”
The question surprised her until she realized it was a logical assumption, based on what she’d said. “Nothing that simple. I met Vance through my work—a fundraiser I worked on. He’s a cardiologist. He has an excellent reputation and everyone who knew us both thought we’d make a great couple. So did I. He was divorced, but was still really close with his kids. I thought that meant something.”
Jack frowned. “You wanted kids.”
“I’m surprised you remembered.”
“You used to talk about it.”
She laughed. “Right. You thought two was plenty. I wanted four. You were uncomfortable with three because an odd number would make travel difficult. Ever practical.”
“It’s true. Try finding a hotel room that sleeps five.”
“Okay. Good point. Anyway Vance knew I wanted children. We discussed it at length.” That’s what got her, she thought. That he’d agreed. “We even discussed names.”
“He changed his mind?”
“More than that. He lied.” She shook her head. “I was such a fool. We decided to wait a little, get settled in our marriage. Then, when I was ready to start trying, he kept putting it off. I never suspected anything.
