Love Proof (Laws of Attraction) - By Elizabeth Ruston Page 0,79

lunch?”

“No, thanks,” Sarah said, trying to remain neutral toward him, trying not to bolt for the exit and get away from him and everyone else as fast as she could. She needed to think. To process. To sit somewhere alone and let it all hit her again at a pace she might control.

“Amazing, huh?” Mickey asked. “How greedy some people get. I didn’t take Joe for one of those, but you never know, huh?”

“Nope, you never do,” Sarah said. Her mouth felt dry, but she could feel the sweat still sticky on her skin. “Listen, Mickey, I really appreciate you getting me this job. It’s turned out much better than I ever hoped.” She wondered if it sounded as false to his ears as it sounded to hers, but from his smile, she guessed not.

He kissed her on the cheek. “Any time, gorgeous. Happy to be of service.”

He stood too close to her, too long, until finally Sarah took a step back. “Thanks,” she said, aiming now for the door. “I’ll see you later.”

“You did good, Sarah,” Mickey called after her.

She waved without turning around.

Make it to the car, make it to the car . . .

Then she had to talk herself through keeping it together while she started up the Saturn and drove out of the parking lot.

Then, and only then—

Sarah pulled off at the first opportunity, shut off the car, and then leaned forward and buried her head inside her arms. Her breath came out in heaves, almost like vomiting again, but this time just pressure and force and nothing but pain and anger behind it.

Joe. You stupid, greedy, idiot, bastard, lying, cheating—WHY? Why now?

But why not now? she thought. He had no idea she was coming back. No idea she might even consider falling in love with him again. No idea he was about to get indicted, lose his law license, probably go to prison—

While Sarah once again had to pick herself up from the ground, wipe off the blood, and force herself to keep moving. Force herself to forget him. Force herself to stop believing they were ever meant to be together.

“Joe,” she whispered into the car. “We could have had it this time. Why did you have to ruin everything?”

Thirty-one

“Ooh,” Angie said. “You don’t look good.”

Sarah’s eyes were red and puffy from the effort of not crying. Her sinuses were swollen, too, and her throat felt thick with unspent tears. But she refused to do it, she thought. Not this time, and not over him. Not anymore.

Sarah handed Angie an envelope of cash. “I can’t work out today, but I wanted to make sure I brought you this. I just got a job offer this morning, so I should be able to pay back everything by the end of the year.”

“Congratulations!” Angie said. “That explains why you look so depressed.”

“Yeah, well . . . it’s been a rough day.”

“You have an hour,” Angie said. “Use it however you want. I was going to make you do squats and lifts, but if you’d rather talk . . . ”

“No, thanks,” Sarah said, turning to go. “Let’s just reschedule for next Saturday. Or sooner, if things . . . ” She couldn’t finish the sentence. She still didn’t want to accept what might happen.

She sank onto the bench just inside the door. Three other trainers were in the room, working with their clients. Sarah’s shoulders slumped. She felt as feeble as the first time she ever came in there.

“Come on,” Angie said. “I’m starving. If you’re not working out now, I’m going to eat. Come keep me company.”

Angie headed for her office, just off the weight room, and a few moments later Sarah followed. She sat in one of the chairs across from Angie’s desk and waited while her trainer microwaved her lunch.

“Want some?” Angie offered.

Sarah shook her head.

“So . . . work is good,” Angie said. “Job offer—that’s great. Still traveling all the time?”

“Yeah. Leaving again tomorrow.”

“Hm.” Angie studied her for a few more seconds, then said, “So. I can keep asking these stupid questions until you get around to telling me what’s wrong, or you can just cut to it and tell me.”

“I’m not trying to be mysterious,” Sarah said. “I just really can’t talk about it. It’s complicated. And confidential, I’m afraid.”

“Okay, so just give me the basic outline,” Angie said. “You don’t have to worry—we’re in the Zone of Silence in here. More sacred than attorney-client privilege. No one can make a trainer