Page 123 of Rush of Jealousy

She is right. I definitely don’t stand out. I set my gym bag next to Claire’s on a bench that is along the back wall. I take a gulp of my water and put my phone on silent. I can see that Graham has sent a few text messages, but I don’t have time to check them.

The instructor introduces herself, starts the music, and adjusts her microphone headset.

“We are going to start the class by first going over the six basic movements. I will show you what it should look like. Then we will practice together. And then afterwards, we will perform everything to a song and really get into it. Remember that if anything seems too challenging or if you feel like any of your muscles are pulling too hard, either stop or modify your movements. This is a confidence building class. This is not meant to show off or be a class on comparing to each other. We as women are often our own critics—our worst enemies. So as I do these movements, I want you to find your inner strength and focus on that. There is beauty even in the struggle. Embrace it.”

I watch in awe as the instructor does each skill and gives us a fun name to remember it by. She is extremely flexible and agile.

I practice each move as best I can but really just have fun and laugh with Claire—who, despite being extremely athletic, is struggling as well. We won’t be joining Cirque du Soleil anytime soon and that’s okay. By the time the real workout begins on tempo with the music, I am so worn out and sweaty that hitting up the pool is actually sounding really good.

* * *

After I shower and put on my lounge clothes, Claire and I head out to her car.

“What’s on the agenda for tonight?” I ask her, looking at the clock and seeing it is only five o’clock.

“Ethan wants my Hershey hole.”

“Uh, what?”

She sighs. “He’s pestering me to try anal.”

My mouthful of water explodes onto the sidewalk. “Can you at least warn me before you blurt things out like that? In public, mind you!”

“What? It’s just sex,” she says flatly. “Completely natural. No reason to be ashamed. I thought as a feminist, you would be pioneering ways to break the stigma, ya? It isn’t just about a man’s pleasure anymore. Women have feelings too.”

“Some of us have a bit more reservation about talking about it on the street,” I whisper-shout. “And who just tries anal as if it’s a spur-of-the-moment thing? Aren’t you supposed to work up to that?”

“The girls in the porn videos I watched—solely for educational purposes—seemed to be into it.”

“Oh yeah, that sounds like really sound research there.”

“I just think that giving it over is equivalent to an engagement. So, basically it’s a type of commitment.”

I don’t exactly see her reasoning but don’t want to continue any more discussion over her asshole, so I don’t ask any follow-up questions. I am sure she will over-share after the act is over with at a later date.

Claire unlocks the doors, and I slide into the passenger side. I check my messages while she tries not to hit a row of parked cars. I really want to know how much her car insurance premiums are. Graham’s texts are just checking in with me to see how I am doing. They are sweet, and I can already tell he is trying not to smother me like he has in the past. I dial his number instead of texting him back.

“Hello,” the female voice greets, catching me off guard.

“Oh, um, sorry. I think I have the wrong number.” I stumble over the words, and I pull my phone back to look at the screen just to double check.

“Hello? Miss McFee?”

I shake my head at the unexpectedness of hearing a voice other than Graham’s. “Excuse me?”

“Miss McFee, it’s Kylie. From Hoffman Headquarters. I am Mr. Hoffman’s new assistant. We met a couple of weeks ago.” She rushes to get everything out, probably in fear that I will hang up and get the wrong impression—which is pretty accurate to how I was feeling about thirty seconds ago.

“Oh, Kylie. Hi.” Why is she answering Graham’s personal cell phone?

“Mr. Hoffman is in a meeting. Sometimes I take his phone to field his messages,” she explains politely, answering my unspoken question. “Hold on and I’ll get him for you.”

“No, no, please don’t,” I insist, not wanting to inconvenience him. I also need to be extra careful when sending him flirty pics or messages now that I know she can be reading them. Ugh, embarrassing.

“Miss McFee, I have strict orders to retrieve him if you call. Please hold on.”

Of course Graham would put the fear of losing employment into the minds of all of his workers. Pretty sure Hanna was the case in point for his threats.

I wait approximately thirty seconds before I hear the sexy breath of Graham vibrate through the phone. “Sweetheart. This is a nice surprise.”

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