ONE
My running shoes striking the pavement of the path through Liberty State Park kept time with the driving beat of the old Aerosmith song pumping through my wireless ear buds.
Just in case the view of the Hudson River and New York City skyline wasn’t enough to entertain me during my morning run, I’d set up my playlist—classic rock—to be timed perfectly to get me from start to finish.
Today I’d reached my apartment building before the final song began. That had me smiling. I’d cut my time, which meant I’d increased my speed.
I was already seeing marked results just a couple of months after I’d decided to kick my fitness routine up a notch—and that had been just one of the changes in my life. I’d also moved out of my Manhattan apartment and to the New Jersey side of the river.
My parents thought I was insane. After all, I was Brent Hearst, so what the hell was I doing living and working in Jersey?
In their opinion, I was supposed to be paying through the nose for a Manhattan apartment. In my opinion, they were the crazy ones.
The Hudson was just as majestic from the Jersey side and New York City looked far more magical with a little distance blurring out the less savory details.
Most of my old-moneyed classmates from boarding school would probably agree with my parents. Most, but not all of them. Zane Alexander would understand.
He got me. He always had, in spite of our good-natured rivalry, or maybe because of it.
Zane could appreciate how, at times, I hated being a Hearst as much as I loved it . . .
And I couldn’t frigging wait for the next time I went running with my good old friend Zane and kicked his ass. Ha! Just let him try to mock me and my lifestyle now. He should run two publishing companies in two different states and see if he had time to work out as much as he did as a SEAL.
I was proud of myself. I’d stuck to my new workout routine in spite of my work and travel schedule. I might not be Navy SEAL material—yet—but by the time I saw him next I should be able to give him a run for his money.
Money. There was an idea. Maybe I should suggest a friendly little wager. Not that I needed the cash, I had plenty of my own, but taking a chunk of Zane’s money would give me great pleasure just on principal.
After slowing to a walk to cool down, I finally got to the door of my building. I stopped and pulled out my cell.
I hit pause on the music and checked the time. I wanted confirmation I really had done the run as fast as I thought I had. That’s when I saw the text from Zane, the very man I’d been thinking about.
The text was brief and to the point, just like the man himself. He asked me to call him as soon as I could so I punched the screen to return the call while I leaned against the wall and stretched my quad muscles.
When Zane answered, I said, “Well, well, well. Just the man I was hoping to hear from.”
“Oh, really. And why is that?” Zane asked.
“I’m going to be in Virginia all this week. I thought we could get together. Go for a run maybe.”
I didn’t elaborate and tell him I wanted to kick his ass on the running trail to make up for the razzing he’d given me the last time we’d run together. That could be my little surprise.
“Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I was hoping you were in Virginia. Any chance you can meet me at my office today?”
“Sure.” Though I would rather meet him at a bar than at his office.
Preferably at a place that served food since all this exercise made a man hungry, but I guessed I could grab something along the way.
Or, even better, maybe once I got there I could convince Zane to move our little meeting to someplace near his office. Somewhere that served food with a side of alcohol—or visa versa.
“You free now?” he asked. “I need to run something by you.”
Zane never did have any patience for waiting around for anything.
I’d be pissed that he expected me to drop everything to come meet him on a moment’s notice if he hadn’t done exactly that for me just a couple of months ago when I needed him.
He’d used all his considerable resources and helped me in a big way and I promised if there were anything I could ever do for him, I’d do it. But what he was asking was impossible.
Including the walk to the station and the wait for my train, the trip door to door from my New Jersey apartment to Virginia by rail took the better part of the day.
I laughed. “Sorry. I’m still in Jersey. But I’m leaving in about an hour. I’ll be in Virginia this afternoon.”
“All right. Text me as soon as you get here.”
“Sure. No problem.” I rolled my eyes as he continued to make demands on my time.
“Great. Talk to you later.” As Zane disconnected it was obvious he hadn’t picked up on the sarcasm I thought had been pretty clear in my tone.
With the call done and my plans settled, I yanked open the door of my building, bypassed the elevator and instead ran up the stairs.
I took them with renewed vigor after the break I’d had during the call with Zane and still reached the third floor barely out of breath.
It was nice when even small effort, when done consistently, yielded big results.
While opening the door of my apartment, I decided that might be a good topic for the next company-wide meeting. I hit the face of my smart phone and recorded a note to myself so I didn’t forget the idea.
God, I loved technology. But right now, I loved the smart water in the fridge even more.
I grabbed a bottle from the shelf in the door, took a few gulps, and then carried the bottle with me toward the bathroom. I needed to shower and get to the station since apparently I had a meeting later with Zane.
My mental review of my schedule was interrupted as I passed my bedroom on the way to the bathroom. Antonela was there, stripping the bed of its sheets.
I leaned in the doorway. “Hey. I didn’t realize you were here.”
“I needed to work today instead of tomorrow. Remember? I told you last week.” She glanced up from the king-sized mattress she was bent over as I stoically ignored her tempting position.
I could get laid any day—God had blessed me with many attributes ladies liked—but a good housekeeper was hard to find. I wasn’t about to ruin our working relationship by tumbling Antonela into that bed she looked so good bent over.
I forced my focus back to the discussion—her working today instead of her usual day.
“I’m sure you did tell me.” And I’d forgotten because of the thousand other things running through my head. If I didn’t record a reminder for myself, it inevitably got forgotten. “It’s fine. I’m just going to jump in the shower then leave for Virginia.”
She straightened up and turned toward me. “I just put fresh towels inside for you.”
Again I refused to let my gaze stray to where her tight T-shirt hugged her shapely assets. “Thanks. You’re the best.”
Maybe I’d matured since turning thirty. A couple of years ago I might not have shown such restraint because damn was she hot.
I’d better never go to Croatia because if the women all looked like Antonela, I’d be in big trouble.
Hell, I’d probably come home married even though getting myself a wife—or even a steady girlfriend—was the dead last thing on my agenda. It was right down there next to the second to last thing I’d ever do—sleep with my housekeeper.
I wasn’t sure whether to be proud or panicked by my new found mastery over my formerly overactive libido
I decided not to waste brainpower thinking about it and headed for the shower.
Zane awaited me.