A Case of Defamation Pt. 03

SEVEN

Shay stretched and groaned herself awake. Transcribing the three interviews she'd conducted yesterday had taken almost five hours, but other than creating a typed copy, nothing had come of it. Nothing in the interviews contradicted or called into question anything anyone said. She was very interested in talking with the client who had fired Dan, but thus far, everyone seemed to think Dan was nothing but a great guy.

She ate a bowl of cold cereal, her standard breakfast. After rinsing her bowl and putting it into the dishwasher, she took her shower and dressed. Yesterday she'd worn dark blue, so today she selected a light gray suit with a black, scoop-neck blouse. Ninety minutes after her alarm went off, she was walking out her door.

-oOo-

Even though she arrived at her office ten minutes early, Dan's car was waiting. She pulled into her traditional parking space before walking up beside his car and softly rapping the window with her knuckle. He was engrossed in something on his phone, and she grinned when he started.

"You're early," she said when his window whirred down.

"Yeah. I have something I need to tell you."

"What?"

"Get in, I'll tell you on the way."

She hesitated but decided her laptop could ride around in his car as easily as it could sit in the office. She walked around the nose of the car as it growled to life, tucking the computer case behind her seat before dropping into the car.

"What've you got?" she asked as she closed her door.

"Remember when you asked me if someone might be nursing a grudge, and I said no?" She nodded but said nothing. "I've changed my mind. Maybe there is someone."

Her right eyebrow crept up. "Who?"

"An ex-client of mine, Gail Dunnally. I did some private lessons with her, like you saw me doing yesterday, but I quit about a year ago."

"Why?"

"It wasn't working out. She wanted more from me than I was willing to give."

"She wanted to sleep with you?"

"Yeah."

"But she was a client?"

"Yeah. Not only that, she's married. The more I told her I wasn't interested, the more it became a game for her. I finally decided I'd had enough."

"Why didn't you tell me this when you first came to see me?"

He shrugged. "I didn't think of it at the time. That happened well before the rumors started, and I hadn't heard from her in a while. She's called me a couple times, trying to rehire me, but I told her I was booked. She called me last night and said something that made me wonder."

"What?"

"She mentioned the rumors and how she knew I'd lost a client. She said she was willing to hire me, in spite of the rumors, and if the rumors continued, I might be glad to have her as a client." He glanced at her before his eyes returned to the road. "When she first said it, it flew all over me, but after thinking about it some more, she didn't really say anything, and what she said could be taken as an offer to help." He glanced at her again. "But still, there was something about the way she said it..."

"I'll look into it," she said with a quick bob of her head. "Who's Gail Dunnally? I assume since you were giving her private lessons, she's someone with money and influence."

"You might say that. Have you heard of the Natalie Nemain series of movies?"

She nodded. "Yeah. She's an ancient Greek goddess sent to modern-day Earth to right wrongs, or something, right? I've never seen them, but I understand the movies are hugely popular."

"Right, except Nemain was an Irish goddess of war, not Greek. Anyway, Gail's production company owns the rights and makes the movies, and she produces them. The movies always make a shit load of money, so to answer your question, yeah, she's got money and influence."

"Got it. How do I get in touch with her?"

He handed her his phone. "Call her. I almost guarantee she'll answer if you call her from my phone."

"Sneaky," she murmured. "I need to call Greer Schoenmaker, first."

"Use my phone. The number is in there."

"I'd rather conduct the interview alone."

"Don't worry about me. I won't say a word, and Greer will never know I'm here. I'm not afraid of anything she has to say." He took his phone from her, tapped on it a moment, then handed it back. "Now it's disconnected from the car so I can't hear what she says."

With his phone already unlocked, she quickly found the contact for Greer, but used her own phone so she could use the app that'd record the phone call. The phone purred in her ear a moment.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Schoenmaker? This is Shay Caddel. Daniel Beckette said you were expecting my call. Is now a good time?"

"I can give you five minutes."

"Thank you. I'll be brief. My understanding is you released Mr. Beckette because of the growing rumors of sexual harassment. Is that true?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"During your time working with him, did he ever act in a way that made you uncomfortable or was inappropriate?"

"No. He was very professional."

Shay frowned. "Then why did you terminate your contract?"

"Crystal Resorts has a zero-tolerance policy on sexual harassment. We---"

"Do think he's guilty?" she interrupted.

"I wouldn't know."

"But you never witnessed any questionable behavior?"

"No. As I said, he was very professional."

"I don't understand. If his conduct was---"

"Ms. Caddel," Greer said, cutting her off. "As I was going to say, we have a zero-tolerance policy. Crystal Resorts International will not tolerate questionable behavior from our employees or our contractors. If these allegations are proven false, I will consider employing Mr. Beckette again, but until that time, I will err on the side of caution. Our clients expect complete professionalism at all times, as do I. Until the matter is resolved, and Mr. Beckette is cleared of any wrongdoing, he will not be employed by me or anyone associated with Crystal Resorts."

"I understand," Shay said, though she didn't. Greer had decided he was guilty until proven innocent.

"Excellent. I wish you the best of luck in your investigation. Goodbye," Greer said and then was gone.

"That woman is a hard ass," Shay muttered after making sure the call was disconnected.

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

"She's already decided you're guilty without a shred of proof."

He shrugged. "You know Crystal Resorts' reputation. Can you blame her for being careful?"

"You're very forgiving."

He grinned. "It's bad for business to run down your clients. It also helps that my livelihood doesn't depend on these sessions."

Before she could respond, they turned into another Bel Air mansion. Like the other two homes she'd visited, this one was set well back from a gated wall. Daniel buzzed, and after a moment, the gates swung open. She guessed they, or Dan at least, was expected.

"Who's this?" Shay asked as they pulled through the gate.

"Meryl Sakowitz."

"Never heard of her."

He grinned at her. "Yes you have, except you know her as Mary Sachs."

"Oh," Shay grunted. "You're right... I have heard of her."

Another aging star, Mary Sachs had worked regularly in film for years. She'd been everything from a starship captain, to a World War I nurse, to an aging drug addict. She'd gotten her start as a Bond girl in the late-sixties, and Shay hoped she aged half as well.

Like yesterday, after introductions, Shay stood to the side and said nothing as Dan worked with Mary. Her workout appeared to be mostly stretching and cardio, but for a woman who had to be close to eighty, she was surprisingly spry. Toward the end of their workout, Shay passed the time watching Dan as he bounced on the floor mat, enjoying how his shirt was sticking to him as he sweated. He was bubbly, energetic, and full of encouragement, but he was also polite and all business.

After their workout, he stepped outside, and Shay ran through her now standard set of questions. Like Dan's other clients, Mary had nothing but positive things to say. Like Maranda, she hadn't heard the rumors dogging him, but she poopooed the idea that Dan was a sexual predator.

Learning nothing new, Shay thanked the woman for her time and hurried out to meet Dan. The person she wanted to interview most today was Gail.

"Do you still fit in your Boy Scout uniform?" she asked with a grin as she approached his car. He'd changed out of his sweaty shirt into a dry one. She'd never admit it to anyone, but she was disappointed with the change.

"What?" he replied with a snicker.

"I assumed you must have been a Boy Scout growing up. Everyone seems to have only positive things to say about you."

His grin spread a little wider. "Maybe it's because I'm a nice guy."

"Maybe," she allowed with a smile of her own. "Where now?"

"Malibu."

"You really get around."

He smiled. "At what I charge, I can afford to drive."

She was dying to ask, but it was none of her business, so she nodded. The drive was a solid hour from Bel Air to Malibu, which would give her plenty of time to make her phone call. While Dan drove, she had him unlock his phone so she could retrieve Gail's number, but then as before, placed the call using her own.

"Dunnally, go," a woman's voice ordered.

"Ms. Gail Dunnally?"

"Yes. Who is this?"

"Ms. Dunnally, this is Janet Ryder with the U. S. Olympic Committee. How are you this morning?" She grinned at Dan as he stared at her, clearly confused, before his attention returned to the road.

"How'd you get this number?" Gail demanded, clearly not pleased.

"Mr. Daniel Beckette listed you as a contact. If you have five minutes, I'd like to talk to you about Mr. Beckette."

There was a long pause. "What about him?"

"Mr. Beckette is being considered for a coaching position on the U. S. Women's Gymnastics team for the 2026 Summer Games in Los Angeles. As part of our consideration process, we're speaking with Mr. Beckette's past and current clients. I'm wondering if you have a few minutes to speak with me?"

"I really don't have---"

"It will only take a moment," Shay interrupted. "It's very important that I speak with you."

Gail sighed. "Make it quick."

"Yes, ma'am. Something that has come to our attention during our selection process are some disturbing rumors regarding Mr. Beckette's personal life. Are you aware of the rumors of sexual misconduct?" Shay waited but Gail didn't give her any response, so she gave Gail another nudge. "As you can imagine, the U. S. Olympic Committee is very concerned over these allegations. Mr. Beckette will be interacting with young women, and there can't be even a suggestion of impropriety. Are you aware of these allegations?"

"I've heard something about them, yes."

"Any comment?"

"No. I find it difficult to believe he would be guilty of any type of sexual indecency, though."

"My notes indicate you terminated your contract with Mr. Beckette."

"Other way around. Daniel, Mr. Beckette, became overbooked. We agreed to stop our sessions for the time being."

"So you'd hire him again?"

"Yes."

Shay cleared her throat for effect. "There is no delicate way for me to ask this, so I will come right out with it. Did you ever observe any unwanted behavior from Mr. Beckette?"

"No. He was always very professional."

"So, you and he parted on good terms?"

"Very good terms, I think. As I said, he became overbooked, and I agreed to a break, but I still hope to resume working with Daniel. I can really tell I'm not getting the exercise I was before."

"So, to your knowledge, the rumors are false?"

"To my knowledge, yes."

"Any thoughts on who might be spreading the rumors."

"No, no idea. Daniel seems like a decent guy to me. Did you ask him who he thought it was?"

"Yes, of course. He claims to have no idea why someone would be spreading false rumors. That's why we're following up. It seems a little odd, don't you think, for there to be so many rumors, yet he claims to have no understanding of who would be spreading them, or why?"

"Welcome to Hollywood, where stabbing each other in the back and spreading gossip is considered a sport."

"Thank you, Ms. Dunnally, for your time," Shay said before hanging up.

"Well?" he asked as he looked at her.

"I don't know," she admitted. "She'd have to be crazy to admit to doing anything, but I gave her plenty of opportunity to sow doubt. Not only did she not try to stab you in the back, she defended you. She said you were a decent guy." She grinned at him. "She wants to start working out with you again." He snorted but said nothing. "Anyone else I should know about? Anyone at all?"

He shook his head. "Nobody I can think of, no."

"No lover's quarrels? No upset business associates? Nothing?"

"No, not really." He paused but then looked at her. "Before Brooke left, we fought some. I've had a few women get a little pissy when I didn't want to see them again, but nothing out of the ordinary, I don't think." He looked at her again. "And I own 100% of Beckette Investments, the shell company that holds Daniel Beckette Fitness Centers and DanielBecketteFitness. com, along with all the other domain names I own to protect my brand."

She scratched furiously at her head. Someone wanted to take a swipe at Dan for some reason, but who? She was starting to see the pattern. His clients loved him, and even Greer Schoenmaker admitted she was only pushing him away for appearance's sake, not because she thought he was guilty.

People were quick to believe any rumor that came along, even if there was no proof of any wrongdoing, and that was what was wrong with the world. She knew it was her own cynicism that caused her to believe people were often guilty of what they were being accused of, but despite her pessimism, Dan appeared to be the exception that proved the rule.

She was going to dig deeper into Gail Dunnally because she was the only suspect she had. She'd only interviewed half his clients so far, and there was a chance something would develop, but at the moment, her initial prediction that she wouldn't be able to help him appeared to be more and more likely.

"This Gail chick... she the type to want to get even?"

He shrugged. "How would I know?"

He had a point. She had no idea if the guy that serviced her car would want some payback if she were to suddenly drop him for another shop. Why would she? It hadn't come up, and if she left, she wouldn't see him again to know if he was upset or not.

She was still turning ideas over in her head when they pulled into the drive of a house on the beach, the vast Pacific Ocean glimmering in the bright, late morning sun. He buzzed and they waited at the gate until it opened. The house, and those surrounding it, weren't as huge as the others she'd visited, but they weren't small either, and sitting on the beach, she could only guess the price was in the twelve to fifteen-million-dollar range.

After introducing Shay, Dan went through the routines with a bored housewife, Shay's attention alternating between watching the ocean beyond the floor to ceiling window, and the woman straining at the machine. The woman was lovely, well rounded and trim, with her blonde hair piled up on her head. Each of Daniel's routines appeared to be customized for the client, not only in the exercises he had them perform, but in how he treated them. The woman, wife to the quarterback for the LA Rams football team, was handled much like he'd handled Rob, but without the insults. She did all the work, with Dan performing spots and helping her with her technique.

"Come on, Pylana! One more! Push it!" he cheered as he stood with his hands just below, but not touching the bar.

Pylana cried out in effort as she strained at the machine, but she finally got the bar up.

"Great job! That's two more than last week. Your strength is really improving."

She lay puffing on the bench. "I'm starting to see it in my clothes. Phil has even noticed."

He handed her the workout towel. "Good for him. I told you the weight would come off if you followed my eating suggestions and kept hitting the machines."

"You're right. My girlfriends are starting to get jealous and are asking me what I'm doing."

He winked at her with a big smile. "They should be. You look great and you're really toning up. You've earned their envy."

"I couldn't have done it without you."

"Of course you could. You're the one doing all the work. I'm just giving you some guidance." He paused as he grinned at her evilly and adjusted the machine for a different exercise, adding weight at the same time. "You're going to hate me, but I want reps until exhaustion."

She groaned but turned and put her feet in the stirrups and set to work.

"Don't forget to breathe!" he reminded her as she strained, her face twisting in effort while turning red.

She could only do four reps, but he cheered her anyway. "That's it for today. Keep working those legs like I showed you. They will really firm up your glutes and give Phil something else to pant over." He paused for a moment. "Pylana, can you do me a favor and talk to Shay?"

"About what?"

"Some people have been spreading false rumors about me and I'm---"

"I've heard. A friend pointed them out to me. She was worried about me." Pylana shook her head. "She needs to worry more about her own business and less about mine." She glanced at Shay. "Sure, I'll be happy to talk to you. What are you, a private investigator or something?"

Shay nodded. "That's exactly what I am."

"No kidding?" Pylana cried, clearly surprised.

Shay felt like sighing. It was always the same reaction. "No kidding."

After Daniel excused himself, Shay spent about ten minutes talking to Pylana. Pylana was just like all his other clients, confirming he was always professional, always courteous, and that he kept his hands to himself except to adjust her form in some way. She'd never felt threatened or pressured, and like Maranda had said she would, Pylana had told her friend to shove the rumors because she didn't believe a word of them. Pylana was Daniel's newest client. She and he had only been working together for about twelve weeks, but she was looking forward to a long and fruitful relationship with him.

They made one more stop in Hollywood, working with a man that appeared to be in his mid-fifties. The man was grossly overweight, but Dan was patient with him as the man sweated and strained while breathing like a bellows. She didn't bother interviewing him.

"What's that guy's story?" she asked as they returned to his car. He wasn't like the other beautiful people she'd seen Dan working with.

"Big real estate developer. His wife left him and he's working on himself."

"Good for him, but he has a ways to go."

"Actually, he's doing great! He's dropped over fifty pounds since I've been working with him." He grinned at her. "The first fifty or so is easy. After that, it starts getting hard, but I think he's really motivated to drop the weight."

She couldn't stop her smile. He had something positive to say about everyone, and she liked that about him. It was a refreshing change from most of her clients, those who were often suspicious and looking for something on someone.

"That it for the day?" she asked.

She was uncomfortable spending his money when she was making so little progress while at the same time sitting around doing almost nothing, but she did enjoy his company. He was funny, personable, and his outlook on life was so damn positive, it made her life seem a little brighter just from the reflected glow.

"That's it. I need to go see my accountant, but other than that, I'm done for the day."

He drove her back to her office. "Same time tomorrow?" she asked as she exited his car.

"If you want to go with me to see Bill, I'll pick you up at ten. He's not an early riser."

Seeing the man was probably a waste of time since every client so far had only positive things to say, and she couldn't see Dan getting touchy feely with a guy. "No. I think that's okay. I think my time would be better spent checking out Gail Dunnally."

"Okay. You'll keep me in the loop?"

"Of course."

"Let me know if you need anything."

"I will. I'll call you in a couple of days if I find anything."

"Good enough," he said before the window rolled up and he backed away.

She unlocked her door, flipping on the lights as she entered. She was going to transcribe the interviews and then go home. When she entered her office, she stopped and stared in confusion at the empty spot on her desk where the laptop normally resided. For a moment she thought she'd forgotten and left it at home, but then she remembered where it was.

"Shit!" she muttered as she pulled out her phone.

.

.

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EIGHT

Daniel was heading home when his phone rang. Shay's name popped up on the car's display and he pressed the button to accept the call.

"Hey," he said when the call connected.

"There you are!" Shay said. "I've been trying to reach you. I left my computer in your car."

He felt behind her seat and found the case. "Sorry. I should have checked for messages. I had to stop for gas, and then I left my phone in the car while I talked to Henry. He gets annoyed if my phone keeps ringing while he's trying to explain to me where my money's going."

"No problem, but can I meet you somewhere so I can pick it up? I still have some work to do tonight."

He glanced at the clock. "Sure. Want to meet me at Mr. Greenbeans on Hulcup? You know the place?"

"Mr. Greenbeans?"

"Yeah. It's a vegetarian restaurant. I'll buy you dinner, for your trouble."

"You don't have to do that."

"I insist. I don't feel like cooking tonight anyway, so this is a good excuse."

There was a short pause, and he thought she was going to turn him down. "Okay. I'll meet you there in about forty-five minutes. That'll give me time to find the place."

"Okay, great! I'll see you there." He smiled as he ended the call. He'd known Shay for only two days, but he already liked her. She was easy to talk to and even easier on the eyes, and he liked her no-nonsense, plain-speaking manner. With her, he felt like he could be himself, Daniel Beckette. Not Daniel Beckette, trainer, or Daniel Beckette, former Olympic athlete, or Daniel Beckette, businessman, but just plain old Daniel Beckette, a guy.

He'd picked Mr. Greenbeans because it was close, the food was good, and because he could eat properly there. He found a parking place, grabbed her computer from behind the passenger seat, and walked inside. They were busier than he expected for a Wednesday evening, but after a twenty-minute wait, he was shown to a table.

He'd been sitting for less than five minutes when his phone chimed with the arrival of a text. She'd just parked. Leaving the computer tucked out of sight in a chair under the table, he rose and was waiting behind the hostess's podium when she stepped in. Meeting her like this felt very date-like, and his first instinct was to offer her a quick kiss, but he bottled that urge up as he placed his hand on her back to steer her toward their table.

"Sorry about this," she said as she moved the computer and sat down. "I hope I'm not holding you up."

He waved dismissively. "No problem at all. I had no plans, and I'm glad to have some company."

"Well, okay, but I still feel bad disrupting your evening."

He smiled. "I'm glad you did."

"Is that so?" she asked with a smile of her own.

"It is."

"Okay, if you say so. So, what's good here?"

"Everything. I always get the burrito bowl or the roasted cauliflower with hummus."

"Because it's good, or because it's good for you?"

"Both."

She glanced at her menu. "The burrito bowl sounds good."

When the waiter came around again, he ordered two burrito bowls, along with a water, while Shay added a Dos Equis to the order.

"That was something, in the car this morning, that line you were feeding Gail," he said as the waiter turned away.

She grinned. "You'd be surprised what you can get people to tell you if you put the right spin on it."

"How long have you been doing PI work?"

"Since I was eighteen, when I got out of high school. I started as a gopher for my dad. When I turned twenty-one, I got my own license."

"I'm sorry about your father."

"Yeah, me too. I'm mostly over it now, but it was hard there for a while."

"What happened, if you don't mind my asking?"

She shook her head. "Heart attack. He called me that morning and said he wasn't feeling well and was going to stay home for the day. I tried to call him later, and when he didn't answer, I stopped by to check on him. Found him dead in his chair, the television still on. Coroner said he never knew what him."

He grimaced. "I'm sorry."

She gave him a faint smile and a nod. "Thanks, but that's how I want to go." She snapped her fingers. "Not like my grandmother, who hung on for a couple years after her aneurism. She wasn't a complete vegetable, but she couldn't do for herself and just sat around and stared at the television until she died."

He felt bad for bringing up painful memories. "But your mother is still alive?" he asked, hoping to change the subject to something more pleasant.

"Don't know. She left my dad when I was around eight. I haven't seen her since."

He made a face. Doing some quick math, he realized she was twenty-eight or twenty-nine. She was his age, but it didn't sound like she'd had it easy.

"Damn. I'm really sorry. I think I'm going to just keep my mouth shut."

She twittered out a laugh. "Old news. Losing Dad was hard because it was so unexpected, but I've moved on, and I'm thankful he went easy."

He waited while a basket of chips and a bowl of salsa were placed on the table, along with her beer and a refill of his water.

"If I ask you if you were born and raised here in LA, you're not going to tell me you were kidnapped and brought here against your will, are you?" he asked as they began nibbling on the baked corn chips.

She laughed. It was the first time he'd heard her do more than giggle, and it was a very pleasant sound.

"No. Dad got mom pregnant in high school, and her father threatened to kill him if he didn't marry her." He looked at her, horrified, until she burst into laughter again. "Just kidding. I had a fairly normal childhood. After about ten years of marriage, Mom left. Dad said they got married too young, and it was nobody's fault. According to him, she left to find herself, whatever that means. After that, it was just me and him." She paused as she smiled, her face softening with memories. "I couldn't have asked for a better father. I loved him to death." Her eyes refocused on Dan. "Okay, I've told you my life story, what's yours?"

"Nothing to tell."

"That's bull-pucky and you know it. Not everyone wins a bunch of Olympic medals."

He shrugged. "Sounds like compared to you, I had it pretty easy. Both parents, and all four grandparents, are still alive and well, working our combined sunflower farms in South Dakota. I have two younger sisters, both married, and I'm going to be an aunt or an uncle in another couple of months."

"An aunt or an uncle, huh?" she asked with a grin. "You're from South Dakota? How'd you end up in LA?"

"After the Olympics, everyone wanted me to endorse their product. It's how I got started and where I got the seed money to start Beckette Fitness. I'd only intended to stay for a few years, but LA's home now."

They paused as their meals were placed in front of them.

"How'd you get into gymnastics?" she asked.

"Always interested in it. I loved swinging on the monkey bars and jumping off, stuff like that. Starting when I was in grade school. Mom would drive me back and forth to Sioux Falls, two hours each way, four times a week for coaching. When I got old enough, I drove myself."

She shook her head. "I can't fathom that kind of dedication. How long from when you started until you made the team?"

"About thirteen years?" he asked the air. "Something like that. Then it was another two years after that before the games."

"Wow. That's amazing. I guess it paid off for you."

He smiled, remembering the hometown hero treatment he'd received in Huron after the Olympics. The town had actually erected a sign on both ends of town proclaiming Huron as the Hometown of Daniel Beckette, Gold Medalist in the 2016 Rio de Janeiro Olympic Games. On his return, he'd been able to have any unattached woman in town he wanted, and he'd taken advantage of that. Before being accepted to the Olympic team, he'd been focused on training and winning as many medals as possible. It was after the games that he'd developed the playboy reputation, and it had started in Huron.

"I'll always be thankful for the sacrifices my parents made for me."

She nodded in understanding. "I hope when the time comes, I can be half as good a parent as my dad."

"Same here," he confirmed.

While eating, they swapped stories about themselves, discussed his case, what Olympic life was like, and any other subject that came up. The conversation was easy, wide ranging, and enjoyable.

"I should go," Shay announced at the end of their meal. "I still have work to do, and you probably have better things to do than sit and talk to me."

He didn't... and he hadn't enjoyed a date this much since Brooke. Shay pulled her wallet out of her purse, but as she did, he pulled the check to himself and waved her off. "I said I'd buy your dinner."

"I'm perfectly capable of buying my own dinner." She grinned at him. "Besides, I can write it off."

He slipped his credit card into the check presenter. "Call me old fashioned, but where I grew up, the man buys dinner for the lady."

"Oh, for God's sake, Dan. It's 2024, and this is LA. Women buy---"

"Maybe so, and while I live in LA now, I'm still from Huron, and in Huron, South Dakota, chivalry isn't completely dead." He smiled. "Besides, I can write it off, too."

She stared at him a moment before tucking her wallet away. "Then thank you. Far be it for me to discourage chivalry."

He couldn't help but smile at how easily he'd won when he'd expected more of an argument. "My pleasure."

After he paid, he carried her laptop to her car. He wanted to kiss her goodnight, but refrained, not wanting to do anything that would give her reason to think he might be guilty of the things he was being accused of. He opened the rear door and placed her laptop on the back seat.

"Just to be clear, you're not coming with me tomorrow?" he asked

"I don't think there's any need, do you? The client is a man, right? For some reason, I can't see you putting the moves on a guy."

He chuckled. "Not really my taste, no."

"Is that all you're doing tomorrow?"

"No. I have to pose for a photoshoot for my book and start shooting next month's videos for the website, and finally I'm holding a cardio clinic at DBFC number one for the members."

"DBFC? Oh! Daniel Beckette Fitness Center. You do that much?"

"I try to do one class a month at each of the three locations. It gives me a chance to talk to the members and to listen to their concerns and suggestions, that sort of thing. It also shows I'm actually involved in the gyms." He could see her thinking. "Sure you don't want to go with me?"

"Maybe I will after all. I think the personal clients are a washout, but maybe I'll pick up something at the other locations." She shook her head. "When do you have time to sleep?"

"It's not so bad," he said with a dismissive flick of his wrist. "I'm not the one sitting up at night typing notes. Once my day is done, it's done. So, ten, at your office?"

She gave him a sideways grin. "Okay, sure. I'll see you there."

He waited until she started her car and backed out of the parking space before he turned for his own car. He was a little disappointed dinner was over so quickly. It had been almost three weeks since he'd enjoyed the companionship of a woman, and he'd thoroughly enjoyed Shay's.

He motored home and let himself into his apartment. The place seemed so empty without Brooke there. To console himself, he decided to treat himself and whipped up a smoothie using strawberries, peaches, and yogurt, with just enough honey added to sweeten it a little. He sat on the couch, flipping through channels as he sipped, but nothing caught his interest. When he was finished with his treat, he turned off the television in disgust. 250 channels... and still nothing on.

As he washed his glass, he wondered what Shay was doing. Probably working. He felt a little guilty. He dragged her around with him all day, which forced her to work in the evenings. He knew from their conversations she wasn't seeing anyone, and he had little doubt she was charging him for it, but he felt guilty all the same. When this was over, he was going to give her a bonus if she succeeded in finding out who was putting the screws to him, for the extra effort.

Restless, he went into his bedroom and retrieved the polished wooden case that held his three medals. The box had been a gift from his family the first Christmas after the games. Michelle Gwynn, the photographer, wanted him to bring the medals and several changes of clothes in various styles, but she would provide everything else.

He opened the case. Inside the padded, velvet-lined box, were his three medals, each displayed on their individual mount so they wouldn't touch each other. The actual value of the medals wasn't that high, less than two thousand dollars for all three, but they were priceless to him. He admired them for a moment, remembering the hard work and dedication it took to earn them, before he slowly closed the lid. As each had been hung around his neck, he'd thought his life was complete, but now something felt like it was missing. He set the case in plain sight on his dresser so he wouldn't forget it in the morning.

While stripping out of his clothes, he smiled as he imagined what they'd looked like in Mr. Greenbeans, Shay, dressed in her snappy gray suit, and him wearing what amounted to a workout uniform. Beauty and the Beast. He tossed his clothes into the hamper for later washing. It was still early, but a hot shower would help him relax.

He stood in the shower with the hot water pouring over his head. He'd seen a new side of Shay at dinner. He'd already suspected she had a wicked sense of humor, having seen flashes of it over the last couple of days, when she'd give him a zinger after he teased her about something, but at dinner tonight, she'd seemed to let her guard down a little. She became a little less Shay Caddel, private eye, and a little more Shay Caddel, woman. He'd liked what he saw, liked the fact that despite several devastating personal setbacks, she'd moved on with her life. He didn't like people who wallowed in self-pity or expected someone else to solve all their problems. He respected people with determination and grit, people that could shake off a hard fall before getting right back on the high bar to do it again.

Shay wasn't only beautiful, but she seemed to possess the mental toughness he admired. She had the face of an angel with her large dark eyes and small, perky nose, and he'd noticed the first time he saw her that she was trim and toned, and moved with tightly contained power and grace. She obviously worked out, probably as part of her training in karate... or whatever it was she said she had the black belt in.

He touched himself while wondering what she looked like under those well-cut suits she wore. While he suspected she might be able to kick his ass in a straight up fight, he thought he could hold his own with her in a more intimate struggle. He smiled, water pouring over his face as he imagined them doing some strenuous cardio together in his bed.

A tingle passed through him as his hand slowly slid over his steel hard cock. He imagined himself walking up behind her to slowly kiss her neck as he unbuttoned her blouse, taking her delightful breasts into his hands. He'd tease the points to erectness as she sighed, his fingers gliding softly over her smooth, soft skin. He began to caress his manhood faster as in his imagination, her suit was replaced with a sweaty sports bra and tight shorts that showed off her amazing ass.

His eyes closed, he could see their clothes clinging to their bodies, wet with sweat from their strenuous workout as they breathed deep and hard, but not just from their efforts. She pushed his shorts down, freeing his already hard cock as he pulled her sports bra over her head. She held his gaze as she slowly stroked him before he bent and took her lips. He pulled her in tight as they kissed, their tongues dancing as his hands gripped her firm, muscular ass.

Their kiss dissolved as she pulled back with a gasp, her smile promising great pleasure as she slowly lowered herself to her knees on the workout pad, but before she could engulf his member in her mouth, he stepped back and out of his shorts. Wasting no time, he dropped to the mat with her, aligning himself so he could please her as she kicked out of her own shorts.

Dan grunted as his hand began sliding faster over his cock, while in his mind's eye he dragged her hips over his face. He devoured her, tasting her sweat and nectar, his arms around her legs to hold her in place as his tongue slithered and darted. As he pleased her, Shay swallowed his cock as her hips slowly pumped against his face, her low moan of pleasure enflaming his desires. He felt his orgasm rising and strained to hold against the rising tide of pleasure. Suddenly her lips were gone as she reared. Her legs quivering, he continued to kiss the center of her womanhood. She struggled to escape his intimate ministrations, but he held her in place, intent on destroying her with his lips and tongue.

With a mighty heave, she threw herself away, her glowing, sweat-soaked body impossible for him to hold. Once free of his embrace, she immediately whirled to face him before lunging to rejoin their intimate contest. Throwing herself over him, she settled with a soft moan, his cock sliding deep into her most secret place. Her eyes intense, she stared at him, her skin glowing with sweat as she bounced on him hard and fast. His face hard with lust, he caressed her breasts before gently tweaking her nipples, her gasp of pleasure fueling his fire. She began lunging her hips harder and faster, her face twisting while moaning in effort and pleasure. Fighting the rising tide of his pleasure, her beauty as she reached for the peak of her pleasure drew his orgasm close.

"I'm going to come," he softly growled to no one.

She cried out in ecstasy, her pussy clamping down hard on his cock just as he flung his head back, his legs shaking as he spilled his seed into the shower. Grunting as his hips thrust of their own accord, his hand tight around his manhood, his fantasy dissolved, and he was once again standing in the shower.

"Fuck," he muttered, his head tipping forward so the water could pour over his skull again.

He'd needed that. Standing in the shower, he slowly stroked himself as he relaxed out of his orgasm. He blew out a long, cleansing breath and wondered what she'd really be like in bed. His lips twitched into a small smile. More than that, he wondered what it'd be like to really get to know her.

.

.

.

NINE

Shay sat in Daniel's very comfortable car with the windows down as he worked with Jason Orsini, some big muckety-muck with Redlight District Studios. After reading over the interview transcripts, to see if anything jumped out at her that she'd missed before, and finding nothing, she'd plugged her phone into the computer to keep the battery charged before setting up a wireless hotspot so she had access to the internet.

She'd never heard of Jason, or his studio, so after the internet was connected, she looked him up. She was more than a little surprised to discover that Jason was a seventies porn star that had worked under the name Lance Deaper. After he'd retired, he'd started Redlight District to produce hardcore porn videos. He was obviously doing okay considering the size of his house and the fact he could afford private lessons with Dan.

She tried not to be judgmental, but the fact was, she didn't approve of his choice of profession and was glad she'd decided to wait in the car and research Ms. Dunnally. In the photos she'd seen of him, Jason came across as one of those hairy, sleazy, gold-chain wearing stereotypes with his silk shirt opened three buttons down. He might be a nice guy, but he needed to update his look because the seventies were long past.

Her curiosity over Dan's final client satisfied, Shay continued the research on Gail Dunnally she'd started last night. She'd found plenty of pictures of Gail, and lots of information about her movies and her company, but little about her personal life. Last night, when she'd started getting sleepy, she'd quit and gone home knowing a sleepy researcher was a sloppy researcher.

Gail was an attractive woman of fifty-eight. She'd clearly used some medical science and looked to be in her late thirties to early forties. She had dark hair, dark eyes, full lips, and a bust never seen in nature. Nobody, not even Hollywood beauties, could be that big, and that firm at the same time, without some help.

Gail appeared to be squeaky clean. Her open marriage was well known, and every six to eight months she made a splash in the trades when she took another young lover. As Daniel did with women, she appeared to have men standing in line to fall into her bed, so it didn't make sense she'd be so vindictive. On the other hand, there was the old saying about a woman scorned.

Through Clearview Investigations, Shay had access to databases not available to the public, but Gail's name didn't turn up in any of them except in the places where you'd expect to find it. As best Shay could tell, Gail had never been involved in anything even as minor as a domestic dispute, and her sole brush with the law was a couple of speeding tickets over a ten-year period.

That much Shay had found last night. Today, she spent her time digging through the LA Times vault. Back when her dad started in the business, if someone wanted to search through back issues for information, they had to actually go to the vault and look it up on microfiche. Now, for only $4.99 a month, it was all online and searchable. She spent an hour searching the back issues, but nothing of interest came up. Lots of puff pieces about how she was breaking the mold of the Hollywood producer, how she was the most successful female producer in Hollywood, how the latest Natalie Nemain film was the top grossing film of the year, etc. The problem was, the lack of evidence didn't prove she wasn't smearing Dan, it only proved there was nothing in her past that indicated she'd done something like it before.

Movement caught her eye. She pulled off her glasses and began shutting down her computer as Dan walked around the front of his Porsche.

"Love the glasses," he said as he settled into the car.

She grinned as she held the rectangular, thin, dark framed glasses up for him to see. "I need them if I do a lot of reading, or my eyes get tired."

"I like them. They make you look very... I don't know... sexy librarian or something. Did you find anything?"

He was such a flirt, but she liked it. "Nothing."

"So she's not the one doing it?"

"I didn't say that," she corrected. "I just haven't found anything to prove she is the one doing it."

He bobbed his head as he started his car. She spent a lot of hours sitting in a parked car. This early in the morning the wait hadn't been uncomfortable, but that didn't mean the cold air from the air conditioning didn't feel good when it began to blow.

"A subtle, but distinct difference."

Shay nodded. "Yeah. She causes a lot of tongues to wag because of her lifestyle, but I haven't found anything implicating her, or to suggest she's the type of person who would intentionally try to ruin you for rejecting her advances."

"Do I hear a but?" Dan asked as they turned right onto a busy road, his car pinning her back in the seat as he accelerated hard.

"But... she's all I've got at the moment," she said as his car slowed to match the speed of the surrounding traffic. "I'm going to talk to some people who know her to see what kind of person she is. I'll start with you. You think she's capable of doing something like this?"

He shrugged. "Beats me. She was always pleasant, if forward, with me. The only time I heard anything was when she got a phone call once. I don't know what happened, but she ripped somebody a new one for not having a camera crane where it was supposed to be, when it was supposed to be there."

She nodded in understanding, but that was business. "Do you think she has a temper?"

"Not that I could tell."

She drummed her fingers on the center console in annoyance. She'd told him this was probably going nowhere, and now he was finding out for himself. "I hate to tell you this, but you've spent half your deposit already and I've got nothing."

His lips twisted to the side in a half-smile. "Well... you did warn me."

"I did, but that doesn't make me feel any better about not being able to help you. You want to pull the plug? If you do, say so, and I won't charge you for today."

"No. Absolutely not. Let's run out what I've already paid, and if you still have nothing, we can talk about the next step."

"Dan, there may not be a next step."

"Of course there is. Not extending the contract could be the next step. I've only known you for a couple of days, but you seem very thorough. If there's something to find, I have faith you'll find it." He paused and grinned at her. "After all, you're the best."

"I never said that."

"Yes you did."

"When?"

"The first day, at Greg's house. You said you were better than your dad. Since Greg said your dad was the best in the business, if you're better than him, you'd have to be the best."

She remembered saying that, but at the time, she said it to back Greg off. Her dad had been one of the best investigators in LA, maybe the whole country. He'd started out on the LAPD, but he'd quickly grown tired of the bureaucracy, the disrespect by the community, and his captain's cavalier attitude. Three years after becoming a detective, he'd started Clearview Investigations as a side job, slowly growing the business until it could support them. Her memories caused her to smile to herself because she was certain the proudest day of his life was when he turned in his badge and told Captain Holland to shove his attitude.

She had confidence in her abilities because she'd learned from the best, but sometimes there was nothing anyone could do. If there was no trail to follow, then there was no trail. She kept her misgivings to herself because one of her early lessons was projecting confidence, even when she was winging it. If she acted like she belonged where she was and knew what she was doing or talking about, people tended to believe her. She'd broken more than one case by bluffing, pretending to have proof or information she'd only guessed at.

"Maybe. If I don't come up with something in the next couple of days, my recommendation is not to extend my contract and wait. Maybe some additional information will turn up."

"We'll see," he said softly.

As Dan drove, she sat quietly, lost in thought, mentally picking away at the problem, turning it this way and that as she tried to find a crack.

"We're here," he announced as he wheeled the car into a parking lot.

She glanced around. "Already?"

"Already?" he asked with a teasing grin. "It's been forty-five minutes since we left Jason's. You were a million miles away."

She grimaced. "Sorry. I hate being stuck like this. It bugs me."

"Which is why I have faith you'll turn something up. I can tell you're like a bulldog with a bone."

She made growling noises while chewing on an imaginary bone, causing Daniel to laugh. She smiled in return because she liked his open, honest laugh.

For the next two hours, Shay watched as Hannah, the photographer, ran Daniel through a series of poses while feeding him a constant patter of encouragement. She dressed him several different ways, but always in blue and white with a splash of red, and she changed the printed backgrounds to get the look she wanted. Shay's favorite poses were, by far, the series of him shirtless, his medals hanging around his neck, with what appeared to be a sports venue in the background. When he pulled his shirt off, her mouth went dry, and she felt a heaviness in her womanhood. He was simply gorgeous, every muscle of his smooth chest and arms clearly defined.

As they worked, she idly wondered if he'd shaved his chest for the photoshoot, if he was naturally hairless, or if he manscaped regularly. Whatever the reason, the look worked for him, and in a big way. While Hannah was the consummate professional, considering the number of photos she took of him shirtless, Shay suspected Hannah liked seeing him that way as much as she did.

One of the things Shay liked about Daniel was he didn't take himself too seriously. That was never more evident than when he was hamming it up for the camera, flexing and posing ridiculously, cracking jokes, and making faces to cause both Hannah and Shay to trade amused glances and the occasional giggle. Shay could certainly see what women found attractive about Mr. Daniel Beckette.

When they finished, Hannah gave Daniel her card, along with instructions on how to see the photos she'd taken. She was wearing a wedding ring, but Shay looked away to hide her smile when Hannah offered to reshoot any of the shots he liked but weren't quite what he was looking for. The photo shoot was entirely professional, but Shay could tell Hannah wouldn't mind getting Dan back in her studio for another session, and who would blame her? Shay could stand there and look at him all day herself.

"What are the photos for?" Shay asked as she and Daniel stepped outside.

"My book."

"You're writing a book?"

"Not really, no. The publisher hired a ghostwriter to do it. Remember the thing about acting? The same applies to writing. They probably wouldn't like getting my manuscript written in crayon."

She couldn't stop her smile. "Is there anything you're not involved in?"

He shook his head as they reached his car. "Don't read too much into it. I'm just a regular guy that's had a few lucky breaks in my life. The book isn't about me as much as it's about my philosophy on nutrition, health, and life. It's kind of a self-help, motivational book."

"I've seen you with your clients, and I can tell you're very good at motivating people," she said as they settled into his car and shut their doors.

He shrugged. "You can't get to the top of your game in anything if you don't have self-motivation. There were times when I thought about quitting gymnastics. It was so much work, and I didn't have time to do anything normal people did. For example, I never dated. I went to school, helped on the farm, and did gymnastics, and that was it. Sometimes I would think, 'There has to be more to life than this,' but then I'd win a competition, and all the doubts would disappear. Success breeds success." He paused and grinned at her. "Sorry. I didn't mean to lecture."

"It's alright. It's nice to have a client that has a positive attitude for a change. So many people who come to see me are at one of the lowest points in their life. You're like a breath of fresh air."

"Sitting around feeling sorry for yourself doesn't accomplish anything, so why do it? If you don't like your circumstances, change them." He paused with a slightly embarrassed smile. "That's it. No more speeches, I promise."

"It's okay. You can give me motivational speeches anytime you want. Where now?"

"Lunch. I'm starving. How do you feel about fish?"

"I don't eat much of it, but it's fine. Is that what we're having?"

"If you don't object."

She waved at the windshield. "I'll eat anything."

He started the car before driving them to a little, out of the way place named Something Fishy, a restaurant that served only fish and seafood. It was completely decked out in a fishing motif, with aged wood, nets, buoys, and commercial fishing tackle providing the decor. By far the restaurant's best feature was the huge aquarium that took up an entire wall. Their menu bragged about the freshness of their fish, and she wondered if the large aquarium had anything to do with it.

They enjoyed a quick, late lunch of seasoned and grilled swordfish steaks served on a bed of greens. Considering how plain and healthy the dish was, the meal was surprisingly tasty. She'd always assumed people like Daniel ate only grass, pinecones, and flowers, or some such, but he was showing her that healthy eating didn't have to be tasteless and boring. She wasn't the kind of person that binged on burgers and fries all the time, but he was causing her to reevaluate her eating choices.

"Where now?" she asked as they walked out of the eatery.

"I have to go shoot some videos for the website. It'll take the rest of the day and it's not going to be anything but me standing and yammering away in front of a camera. If you want, I can drop you back at the office."

"Actually, I'd like to talk to the production crew, if that's okay?"

"Sure. No problem."

As he drove, she considered that it made sense Dan would be on his best behavior around his well-paying clients. She didn't know what he charged, but it was obvious from the houses they were visiting that only the well-to-do could afford him, and he wouldn't want to risk that. But the everyman on the street? That might be a different story. The only flaw in her thinking was he didn't seem the least concerned with her talking to the film crew, and Maranda had leapt to his defense with teeth and claws bared when Shay asked her if she thought the rumors might be true.

"What are these videos for?" she asked to fill the growing silence.

"The website."

"I know, you said that, but specifically."

"We post a new video every day. Sunday through Thursday, it's a short one or two-minute video on diet, exercise equipment, stretching, something like that. On Friday we post a thirty-minute cardio workout routine. I shoot a month of videos over a couple of days."

"Jesus! That sounds like a lot of work!"

He smiled. "It's not so bad. I do all the short videos for the month in a couple of hours or so. That's what I'm doing today. Tomorrow I'll do a month's worth of workout videos. That takes about a half-day to shoot."

"Same crew?"

"No. Well, part of them. Today it's just me, the makeup artist, the videographer, the sound guy, and a production assistant. Tomorrow it will be the same crew as today, but we'll add two more cameras, plus a director and a couple more production assistants."

"Pretty big operation."

He grinned. "It sounds bigger and more elaborate than it is. You'll see."

"I won't interfere with you by talking to the crew, will I?"

"Not so long as you use some common sense, like not talking while we're trying to record. It takes a few minutes to change between segments, and not everyone is busy at the same time. You can talk to them after we're done, too."

"Who does your scripts?"

"I do. I write them up, send then to the production company, along with a request for whatever props I want, and they take care of the rest."

"I thought you said you couldn't write?"

He smiled. "There's a big difference between writing a book and writing a one or two-minute spiel on portion control, or how a particular exercise affects certain muscle groups, or whatever."

She nodded in understanding. Minutes later they pulled to a stop in front of a nondescript masonry block building in a commercial business park, with Impact! Productions neatly stenciled on the entrance.

"Dan!" the woman sitting at the desk cried as they entered. She was probably in her mid-thirties and attractive in a mom next door kind of way. "They're almost ready for you back there."

"How are you, Jill? You still following the plan I gave you?" Dan asked.

"Yes! Down another pound this week!"

"Great job! You keep at it, okay?"

"Oh, you can count on it! I looked at some pictures of myself from before, to remind myself of what I used to look like. I can't believe the difference! And Tom," she paused with a playfully dreamy sigh, "can't keep his hands off me anymore."

"That's good to hear. I hope he knows what a lucky guy he is."

"Oh, he does. I remind him all the time."

"You keep reminding him, okay?"

"I will. Go on back."

Shay followed him through a heavy steel door into a large, open, production area. The room was a large, windowless, concrete box, with scaffolding, bright lights, and sound absorbing panels hanging above, and along the walls. Pushed out of the way, was a jumble of items and backdrops. Sitting in front of a backdrop with Daniel Beckette Fitness in bold red letters trimmed in white on a rich blue background, was a high-end video camera on a tripod. She smiled as she looked over the small set. Dan went in big for the good old red, white, and blue theme. She could understand that. He'd stood and represented all Americans, competing against the best athletes in the world for the pride of the United States.

"Hey, Carlos! Ready to get started?"

"Ready when you are, Dan. Want to start with the food segments?"

"Sounds good."

It took about ten minutes for the woman to make Daniel up. She had to be at least eighty, her hair the color of a stop sign, but her hands moved with practiced ease as he sat in a chair. Finished, he quickly stripped out of his shirt and pulled on a red polo shirt with Daniel Beckette Fitness embroidered in white on the left breast.

The crew went about their tasks in quick, sure movements as Shay stood well back. Once everything was ready, she watched as Dan stood in front of the backdrop as he ran through the segments. Most he got in one take, though it was clear from the pauses as they moved the camera, or he changed his position, the video would be edited before it was posted.

He'd made fun of his acting ability, but he appeared to be very comfortable in front of the camera. He spoke naturally and easily, as if he were speaking to a friend. He quickly ran through two segments on food, a production assistant providing plates of food for props. He did a segment on how to combat sore muscles, and another on the importance of giving muscle groups a rest. She found it interesting that after the food segments, the blue background was swapped for a red one, the lettering now in blue outlined in the same white, and Daniel changed his shirt from red to blue. It was all very slickly done.

While the crew was swapping stuff around, Shay spoke with the makeup artist. Other than finding out she'd been doing makeup for more than sixty years, she learned nothing interesting, and she was the only woman on the production crew today. A bit over two hours after they'd arrived, they were done.

"We'll get the raw footage edited and sent over to Creative Webs," Carlos said as the crew worked to breakdown the set.

"Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow for the workouts?" Daniel asked as he wiped makeup from his face using a towel the makeup woman had given him.

"We'll be ready."

"That was easy," Shay murmured as they walked back to his car.

"Not too bad today. Sometimes it doesn't go that smoothly. Sometimes I keep flubbing my lines, or something breaks, or whatever." He grinned. "About two months ago, a sneeze snuck up on me. I sneezed so hard that I took a step back, stepped on a weight I'd sat on the floor so it wasn't on camera, stumbled backwards into the backdrop, and knocked it down."

"Oh my God!"

"Yeah. That'll be on this year's blooper reel for sure. Each year, on April Fool's day, we post a video of all my funny screw ups from the previous year. It is, by far, the most viewed video each year. Needless to say, I don't put things on the floor anymore."

"I'm going to have to check that out."

"Sure. When you sign up, use the promo code DanielBecketteSaysOkay, all one word, first letter of each word capitalized, and okay is spelled out. That'll give you access to everything on the site for thirty days, free."

"Thanks!"

"You're welcome."

As he drove her back to her office, he had her in tears of laughter while telling her of some of the things that had happened during filming. He pulled to a stop at her door. When they'd left Impact! Productions, she'd relocated her laptop from behind the seat to between her feet, so she wouldn't forget it this time.

"What's tomorrow?"

"I do my second session with Mairead, then back to the video company. You want me to pick you up again?"

She shook her head. "No. I've already talked to Mairead. I want to do some calling around on Dunnally. Why don't I meet you at the video place?"

"Fine. We'll start setting up about eleven." Dan grinned at her. "Didn't get anything from Janice?"

"Who's Janice? The makeup woman?"

His grin spread. "Yeah. She's a piece of work, isn't she?"

Shay nodded. Talking to her had been like talking to a politician. She didn't get a single straight answer from the woman, and sometimes she went off on something completely different. Janice might be a terrific makeup artist, but Shay wasn't entirely sure she was all there.

She opened the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, about eleven, at the video place."

"See you there."

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he backed away, slightly disappointed he hadn't asked her out for dinner again. Because she didn't have any transcribing to do, she had the evening free. With a mental shrug, she turned toward her car.