Page 9 of Make You Love Me
“Calm your stallions. He just cheated and sent a text to break it off.” She went back to scrolling as if none of what she confessed bothered her, but I know better. The bastard did more than wound her pride. “It’s not worth causing yourself a headache over.”
“I have a headache 24/7. So, too late. He really ended it over text? Such a heartless coward,” I bark out. “When was this?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“When Josie? Before or after you came here?”
She looks up from her phone to meet my heated gaze, and thankfully, her eyes are dry. At least she’s not wasting any tears over him. “After. But that—”
“Damn that asshole. How long had he been cheating? Did you know?”
“I did.” She holds up a hand to stop the next outburst forming on my tongue. “I was working on getting out. New York is expensive, and I had nowhere else to go. From the penthouse, it was a two-block walk to a job I loved. I had space to paint with wall-to-wall windows overlooking the city. I had no bills and the best wine to drown my sorrows. He was kind enough not to kickme out, even though we had grown apart. You can think less of me if you want for not jumping from that into homelessness.”
She’s not telling me the complete story, protecting me as usual, but I don’t push her. “Josie, I could never think less of you. What about Grant? Couldn’t you have stayed with him?”
“He may be my best friend, but he’s also my agent. I’m sure living together would be frowned upon.”
“Well, how are we going to get your stuff…if it’s not in a dumpster?”
“It’s not,” she says flatly.
“How do you know?”
She looks up again. “Grant collected it and is bringing it here soon.”
“Good. Did he give that asshole what he deserves while he was there?”
“He did.”
“Guess I’ll let him back on my good side then.”
Chapter 3
Nora
Ineed to talk to you,” my boss says as I rush by. Emily Vane is the co-owner of the Veterans and Exercise Therapy Services Center I manage. The concern in her eyes has me curious, but it also activates my fight or flight reflex. Flight it is. Plus, I have a good excuse.
“Would you mind if I find you after class? Since I’ve been out, it took longer to get caught up at the front desk, and now I’m running late to teach the Chair Yoga class.”
Emily checks her watch and sighs. “Okay. It’s urgent but can wait a bit. I’ll be in my office.”
“Thanks.” I rush through the fitness equipment in the main workout area and into the Will Mason Multi-Purpose Room to find I have six class participants. Some are younger with leg or hip injuries. Others are older, nursing chronic pain or healing from recent surgeries. All were ordered to be there by their VETS physical therapist as part of their treatment. All are veterans, male, and based on their sulky postures and exaggerated scowls, think yoga is stupid. But I love a challenge, and this lot of broody heroes have no idea what’s in store for them.
I saunter to the speaker system in the opposite corner with a broad smile, making eye contact with each member. I have a mission to accomplish, and I’m going to deploy every tactical weapon I have at my disposal to do so. Mood lighting. Soft instrumental versions of popular rock and pop songs. And gorgeous female anatomy that deserves to be admired.
By the end of class, these defenders of freedom will have gained languid muscles, improved movement and strength, and a new appreciation for the benefits of yoga. They won’t be coming to class next week with those frowns. I’ll have eager students, excited about this part of their ongoing recovery.
Time to initiate contact and get working on the mission.
“Alrighty boys,” I say to the twelve skeptical eyes directed at me. “Let’s warm up those muscles.”
For the next twenty minutes, we breathe and stretch together—each one following instructions to the letter as though I’m their commanding officer. It’s one of the many things I love about working at VETS. Every member getting help here is either active military or a veteran. Every staff person and volunteer come here because they want to help and serve others. Respect and courtesy, duty and honor make up the core of the people, the organization, and the nonprofit’s mission. I’ve never seen a place overflow with selflessness and benevolence like VETS does. It’s breathtaking, and I’m instantly inspired the second I walk through the door.
Movement outside the classroom steals my attention, and as my eyes land on a familiar face, my brain jumbles. I can’t remember which exercise I am leading or what I’m supposed to say next. Emily’s giving a facility tour to a couple: my ex and a gorgeous, petite blonde woman pushing him in a wheelchair.
I can’t breathe. Why is Jordan here? What happened to him? Why didn’t I know he is a member here now? Is that his girlfriend? Shit. I want to look away, but I’m drawn to them,curiosity overtaking confusion. This visit must have been what Emily wanted to tell me this morning.
As he and his companion head toward the therapy wing, following Emily’s directions, she glances my way with an apologetic grin. She doesn’t know our full story, but she has enough details to know this surprise warranted a warning. After all, we hooked up at her and Jackson’s wedding and activated quite the gossip chain since many attendees knew we’d been broken up for months.
