Page 89 of 7 Days and 7 Nights

“That’s great,” Olivia replied.

“And I’m thinking about working with a personal trainer.”

“That’s great, too. I’m glad to see you so serious about your new exercise program.” Olivia smiled and picked up the pace. They walked for a whole minute before Diane asked, “So have you heard anything from Matt?”

Olivia stumbled over an uneven spot in the sidewalk and took her time righting herself. “No.” She eyed her producer but couldn’t bring herself to ask the same question in return.

As it turned out, Diane required little to no pumping. She got a little heel-toe action going and swung her bent arms as she confided, “Ben says Matt’s out of town, but he doesn’t know for how long.”

Olivia wanted to ask where he’d gone and whether he’d said anything about her on-air confession or the jab she’d taken at him with the “Survivor” show but asking Diane to ask Ben to ask Matt how he felt smacked of high school machinations. The last thing she intended to do was let people know how much Matt’s actions, or lack thereof, mattered.

They walked in silence for a time, and just when she’d decided there was no way she could bring up Matt’s name without embarrassing herself, Diane said, “I know you told me you’re not interested in the gory details, but Ben thinks Matt’s in Chicago. T.J.’s the only one who’s heard from him.”

“Um, thanks,” Olivia managed.

They completed a full circuit of the neighborhood and walked up the hill to stand in front of Olivia’s mailbox. Diane bent and wrapped her hands around the backs of her knees in a very impressive stretch. Straightening, she did a few quick air punches and said, “Well, I really enjoyed our walk. Maybe we could make it a regular thing.”

“Absolutely. You sure you don't want to come in for a cold drink?” Olivia asked.

“Nah. I've got a bottle of water in the car, and I want to get my sit-ups in before bed.”

Olivia’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re really serious this time, aren’t you?”

Diane nodded and pulled her car keys out of her pocket. “And I’ll tell you something else. Although I personally don’t believe he’s fit to lick your Nikes, if you think of anything else you don’t want to know about Matt, I’ll be glad to ask around."

???

Time was supposed to fly when you were having fun. But if this week was any indication, it also flew when you weren’t. JoBeth knew her life must look pretty fine from the outside: She had her own home, work she enjoyed, and Kevin Middleton waging a serious campaign to “win her back.” If only Dawg would stop trying to get together to discuss their relationship, she was certain she’d be on cloud nine.

It was a glorious Saturday morning, and she was spending it on a brown vinyl couch in the waiting area of Joe’s Garage.

She eyed the two other patrons and then let her gaze roam around the room to the small table with its hours-old pot of coffee and plate of picked-over muffins. She resisted for about fifteen minutes before walking over to scope out the plate, which contained one blueberry muffin and a small mound of crumbs. Idly, she pushed buttons on the wall-mounted TV just above it. Unable to get a picture, she headed back to her seat.

For a few minutes she used her growling stomach as a diversion so she wouldn’t have to think about the twist her life had taken.

Seducing Dawg had turned out to be an incredibly bad idea. Now she had more memories than she’d intended; memories that popped up at the worst possible moment, like when Kevin took off his shirt at the lake and revealed his scrawny chest, or when she tried to imagine a lifetime of waking up as Mrs. Kevin Middleton—which would require going to bed as her, too. If her regrets were only physical, it might not be so tough. But no matter how many times her head voted for Kevin, her heart cried out for Dawg.

Looking for another distraction, JoBeth dumped the contents of her purse on the scarred table in front of her and began a serious search for food. She found one cellophane-wrapped breath mint, two smashed M&Ms, and about a pound of accumulated trash, which she spent ten minutes separating into piles before tossing them into the can Joe had so thoughtfully provided.

She looked up to find both of the other customers watching her. “I hate waiting around, don’t you?”

No answer.

“Either of you want that last muffin?” she asked.

One of them shrugged, and the other shook her head.

“Great.” JoBeth walked over to claim her prize. Her cell phone rang, and she used her free hand to paw through her purse.

Dawg’s cell phone number appeared on the phone, and JoBeth froze. She knew if she let herself have so much as a conversation with him, she’d crumble like a potato chip. Knew that if he said he loved her one more time, she’d say she loved him, too, and apologize for starting the whole marriage conversation. And then where would she be?

She wanted a partner, a partner who would share the good and the bad, who would be a father to their children and a mate for life. She wanted all kinds of things Dawg Rollins didn’t. And that was that.

All week she’d been careful not to be where he might be, and she was prepared to claim all sorts of phone and technical failures if it ever came down to it. There was no way she could give Kevin a fair shake if she kept thinking about Dawg all the time. She turned the phone off and crammed it back in her purse.

JoBeth ate the muffin without tasting it, and when she couldn’t take hanging around anymore, she stepped out into the work area of the garage. She found Joe bent double over the front of her Cadillac, his head stuck beneath the raised hood.

“How’re you coming?”

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