perched at a stool.
“Bar’s closed,” Jack said without looking up.
“But you said I could stop by any time.”
He glanced up, smiling. “Ah, I wondered if I’d see you tonight. Thought it might be a little earlier, but this’ll do.” He grabbed a glass, filled it with club soda, and handed it to her.
“I really don’t—”
“On the house,” he said. “Just don’t tell anyone.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He slung his cloth over his shoulder and leaned on the bar. “So, what do you think of our little community so far?”
Casey looked up at the palm trees, the flowers, and the gleaming glass and countertop. “It’s nice.”
He gave a short laugh. “That would be one word for it.”
“I thought it would be…busier.” She gestured at the lounge.
“It was, up until twelve. Week night, you know. These folks like their partying, but they also have regular jobs. Wait till the weekend, then you’ll see people out late.”
“Young people hooking up?”
He grinned. “Not just young people.”
“I thought the other buildings had their own lounges.”
“They do, but that’s the retirement crowd. The middle-aged crowd tends to hang here.” He leaned even closer. “Sometimes they forget just how old they are.”
“Age isn’t a bad thing.”
He rocked back. “Didn’t say it was. Look at me. I’m not exactly a spring chicken.” He smiled widely and spread his arms. “Prime of life, even with my thinning hair.”
Casey smiled. He seemed to really mean it. He looked just like he should—no comb-over. No hair dye or teeth whitener. Just a fit, forty-something with confidence. And a very, very short buzz cut.
“The problem,” he said, screwing a lid on a bottle, “is getting other folks to see it that way.”
Casey thought of Sissy, with her bright orange hair, and Laurie, with her snow white teeth. They obviously hadn’t bought into Jack’s philosophy. But at least they worked at their health, promoting—and in Laurie’s case, teaching—exercise.
Jack took a last look at the bar and came out from behind the counter. “Now, Daisy, I am off for my sleep, the one beauty aid I believe in, other than a good run in the morning.”
“No aerobics for you?”
He laughed. “No, thanks. I see enough of those women at night. I don’t need to see them during the day, too.”
“Regular Casanova, huh?”
He looked surprised, then smiled. “Here at the bar, Daisy, not in my personal life. Most of these women, they’re…not my type.”
“Uh-huh.”
He shook his head. “I’m outta here. You going up?” He gestured to the elevator.
She considered her plans. She was exhausted. Her body was tired. But she hadn’t done her own workout. Her kata. And she was missing it. She glanced at the clock. Almost one. It was reckless. Stupid, even. But that huge, pristine aerobics room waited up one flight, silent and secluded.
“Just to the second floor, I think.”
“Checking out your new domain?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, goodnight then.” He gave her a two-fingered salute and headed for the elevator.
Casey took the stairs to the fitness level. Everything was quiet. The floor was dark, lit with only security lights, and the window at the end of the hallway looked out onto the black sky.
Casey slid her magnetic key through the lock of the aerobics room, and the door clicked open. Not wanting to disturb the silence, she eased the door shut. The only sound was the quiet snick of the lock, which echoed throughout the room. Light filtered through the windows on the far end of the room, casting long shadows across the wooden floor. The steps and exercise balls huddled in dark lumps in the corners, and light reflected dimly off the wall-length mirror. The room smelled of sweat, and rubber equipment, and faintly of something fruity. Perfume, probably. Or the air freshener from the locker room.
Casey took off her slides and closed her eyes, then filled her lungs with air and raised her arms to the ceiling. She held the breath as long as she could before letting it out slowly, allowing her arms to drift downward. She repeated the process several times, then opened her eyes and began a simple routine.
Squat, swivel, extend, strike, turn, kick, jump, spin…
Her feet smacked lightly on the floor, adding their own rhythm to the night. Now it was just her breathing, and the tap of her skin against the slats.
Stretch, duck, strike, leap, step, hold, breathe…
She froze.
What was that sound? Another snick, like she’d made with the door as she’d come in. But the door to the aerobics room hadn’t opened.
Casey straightened, and silently checked