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Waking Up in Vegas(15)

By:Stephanie Kisner


“I meant to—”

“The only thing I want to hear from your face right now is I’m sorry, Jen.”

All five feet of her was shaking and when her eyes flashed at me this time, I saw danger. I said what she wanted to hear, but only to keep that hand from slugging me.

“Apology accepted. Provided you never embarrass me like that again. Now go get your headphones.”

It occurred to me, as I walked down the hall to my desk, that not only had I been dismissed, I’d accepted it without question. That was weird. Although, she had reminded me of my mother just then, all tiny and pissed off.

When I got back, Little Miss Sunshine was firmly back in place, and the rest of the show went smoothly. Frankencock was also feeling duly chastised and didn’t rear his head again. Maybe I should make her mad every morning.

As we were heading out of the booth at ten, I asked Jen if she wanted to discuss her new celebrity report before we left. She said she had an appointment at ten-thirty, so she couldn’t.

It was just as well. I sort of had an appointment myself—I’d taken a pass on the gym all week and needed to keep today’s scheduled rendezvous with the barbells and a treadmill.



I nearly crushed my larynx. Thank God for my spotter. I was just starting my second set of bench presses when that goddamn laugh hit me squarely between the eyes. My grip slipped and if it weren’t for my workout buddy, Chris, I’d be learning sign language.

He helped me rack the bar and I just couldn’t stop myself. I sat up and looked around; there was Jensen, in shorts and a tee shirt that would have been baggy on me, touring the gym with one of the trainers. I noticed a bright green member tag swinging from an elastic on her wrist.

Well, fuck me sideways.

Maybe she wouldn’t stay for a workout. I’d been trying to hook up with Tessa, the Pilates instructor, for weeks but our schedules kept clashing. I’d heard her telling one of her students that she was looking forward to the weekend because she finally had some downtime. They’d been strolling through the weight training area, and just happened to stop right next to the leg press machine I was using. Her eyes slid over to me as she talked, so I knew the whole conversation was orchestrated for me to overhear.

My weight lifting mojo was now shot, so while I stretched during my cooldown, I glanced around the gym. Whattayaknow, the treadmill to the left of Pilates Tessa just had someone step off it. And since I always ended my workout with one of the treadmill cardio programs, the fact that that particular machine was now open seemed more than serendipitous.

I said hi to Tessa as I settled my water bottle in the holder and hit the button for a varying-speed cycle. She smiled back but since the belt on her own machine had her at near-jog, she waited to speak until the program beeped and slowed back down. I couldn’t blame her; nobody sounds sexy when they’re breathless.

Unless they’re horizontal and naked.

“So what are your weekend plans, Tack?” she asked, oh-so-casually. “Besides making up for your missed workouts this week.”

Nice. She’d noticed I wasn’t here. “Nothing set in stone yet, Tessa. And no command performances for KLVR until next weekend. How ‘bout yourself?”

“I have a standing movie-date with my girlfriends on Friday. We’re still arguing over which one, though.”

“And Saturday?”

“No plans.” She smiled wide. “So far.”

My machine beeped its thirty-second warning that it would be speeding up, so I spoke quickly. “How about we plan to spend our no-plans Saturday together? Maybe some dancing—”

“Hi, Tack!”

That familiar voice came from my other side, and so help me God, I wanted to pretend I was deaf in that ear.

“Did I hear you say you have no plans for Saturday? ‘Cause that’s the only day I have more than an hour free so we can discuss the new celebrity report.”

I swiveled my head and threw Jen a look that told her to die.

“If we want to start it on Monday, we need to talk,” she continued.

“What’s to talk ab—” I heard a loud pop and then my face was heading for the moving tread that, until a moment ago, was under my feet. The belt threw me off the end before Tessa could reach over and turn it off.

I lay in an undignified heap with a throbbing left leg. I tried a tentative movement and was rewarded with a knee that felt like a rubber band about to snap. The first person at my side was… you just go ahead and guess.

“Gee, Tack, are you okay? Your treadmill just sped up all of a sudden.”

Of course it had. I’d forgotten all about the warning beep while I was busy having an aneurism because the evil little woman had just cockblocked my Saturday.