I was almost home when my phone rang. Tanya’s name popped up on the display and I pressed the button to accept the call.

“Hey.”

“There you are!” Tanya said. “I’ve been trying to reach you. I left my computer in your car.”

I felt behind her seat and found the case. “Sorry. I had to stop for gas.”

“Can I meet you somewhere so I can pick it up? I still have some work to do tonight.”

I glanced at the clock. “Sure. Why don’t you meet me at Mango’s on Lerg Avenue? You know the place?”

“Mango’s?”

“Yeah. It’s a Caribbean 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 I thought she was going to turn me 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.” I smiled as I hung up the phone. I’d only known Tanya for two days, but I already liked her. She was easy to talk to and even easier on the eyes. I liked her no-nonsense, plain speaking manner too. I felt like I could be me, Neil Gibson, around her. Not Neil Gibson, trainer, or Neil Gibson, former Olympic athlete, or Neil Gibson, businessman, but just plain old Neil Gibson, guy.

I’d picked Mango’s because I was close and I could get reasonably healthy fare. I found a parking place, grabbed her computer from behind the passenger seat, and walked inside. They were busier than I’d expected for a Wednesday evening, but after a twenty-minute wait I was shown to a table.

Mango’s took their Caribbean look seriously with colorful plastic parrots in cages hanging around to complement the live bird in the large cage in the waiting area. Plastic palm trees, tables and chairs made from wicker, and steel drums providing ambient music played strongly to the theme.

I’d been sitting for less than five minutes when my phone chimed. I smiled at the text. She’d just parked. I rose from the table and was waiting behind the hostess’s podium when she stepped in. This felt very date-like, and my first instinct was to offer her a quick kiss, but I bottled that urge up and placed my hand on her back to steer her toward our table.

“Sorry about this,” she said as she sat down. “I hope I’m not holding you up.”

I waved dismissively. “No problem at all. I had no plans.” I moved her laptop from beside my chair to beside hers. “So you don’t forget it.”

She picked it up and set it to the side with her purse. “Thanks. So, what’s good here?”

“Everything. I always get the Caribbean Chicken Creole.”

“Because it’s good or because it’s good for you?”

“Both.”

She glanced at her menu. “That does sound good.”

When our waiter came around again, I ordered two of the creole, along with a water for me. Tanya added a Dos Equis to her order.

“That was something, in the car this morning, that line you were feeding April.”

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 hit him.”

I grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

She gave me 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 aneurysm. 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.”

I felt bad for bringing up painful memories. “But your mother is still alive?” I 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.”

I made a face. Some quick math told me she was twenty-eight or twenty-nine. She was my 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 tittered out a laugh. “Old news. Losing Dad was hard because it was so unexpected, but I’ve moved on. I’m thankful he went easy.”

I waited while our basket of bread and salads were placed on the table, along with her beer.

“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?” I asked as we began crunching through our salads.

She laughed. It was the first time I’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.” I 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 me. “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.”

I 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 farms in Iowa. I have two younger sisters, both married, and I’m going to be an aunt or uncle in another couple of months.”

“An aunt or an uncle, huh?” she asked with a grin. “You’re from Iowa? 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 Gibson Fitness. I’d only intended to stay for a few years, but LA’s home now.”

We paused while our meals were placed in front of us.

“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 Des Moines, 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?” I 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.”

I smiled, remembering the hometown hero treatment I’d received in Denison after the Olympics. The town erected a sign on both ends of town proclaiming Denison as the Hometown of Neil Gibson, Gold Medalist in the 2012 London Olympic Games. I could have any unattached woman in town I wanted, and I’d taken advantage of that. Before the games I had been focused on winning as many medals as possible. It was afterwards that I’d developed the playboy reputation, and it had started in Denison.

“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,” I confirmed.

While we ate we swapped stories about ourselves, discussed my case, what Olympic life was like, and any other subject that came up. The conversation was easy and wide ranging.

“I should go,” Tanya announced at the end of our meal. “I still have work to do and you probably have better things to do than sit and talk to me.”

I actually didn’t. I hadn’t enjoyed a date this much since Megan. She pulled her wallet out of her purse. I pulled the check to me and waved her off. “I said I’d buy your dinner.”

“I’m perfectly capable of buying my own dinner.” She smiled at me. “Besides, I can write it off.”

I slipped my 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, Neil. It’s 2017, and this is LA. Women buy—”

“Maybe so, but in Denison, Iowa, chivalry isn’t completely dead. Besides, I can write it off, too.”

She stared at me a moment then tucked her wallet away. “Then thank you. Far be it for me to discourage chivalry.”

I couldn’t help but smile at how easily I’d won. I’d expected more of an argument. “My pleasure.”

After I paid, I carried her laptop to her car for her. I wanted to kiss her, but I refrained. I didn’t want to do anything that would give her any reason to think I might be guilty of the things I was being accused of. I placed her laptop in her car.

“Just to be clear, you’re not coming with me tomorrow?”

“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.”

I 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 NGFC number one for the members.”

“NGFC… oh! Neil Gibson 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 listen to their concerns and suggestions, that sort of thing. It also shows I’m actually involved in the gyms.” I 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,” I said with a dismissive flick of my 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 me a sideways grin. “Okay, sure. I’ll see you there.”

I waited until she started her car and pulled out of the parking space before I turned for my own car. I snorted to myself. I was a little disappointed dinner was over so quickly. It had been almost three weeks since I’d enjoyed the companionship of a woman, and I had thoroughly enjoyed Tanya’s.

I motored home and let myself into my apartment. The place seemed so empty without Megan there. I decided to treat myself and whipped up a smoothie using strawberries, peaches, and yogurt with just enough honey added to sweeten it a little. I sat on the couch, flipping through channels as I sipped, but nothing caught my interest. When I was finished with my treat, I turned off the television in disgust. Two-hundred and fifty channels and still nothing on.

As I washed my glass, I wondered what Tanya was doing. Working probably. I felt a little guilty. I dragged her around with me all day, which forced her to work in the evenings. I knew she wasn’t seeing anyone, and I had little doubt she was charging me for it, but I still felt guilty. When this was over I’d have to give her a bonus, if she succeeded in finding out who was putting the screws to me, for the extra effort.

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

I opened the case. Inside the padded, velvet-lined box, sat my three medals, each displayed on their individual mounts so they wouldn’t touch each other. The actual value of the medals wasn’t that high, less than fifteen-hundred dollars for all three, but they were priceless to me. I admired them for a moment, remembering the hard work and dedication it took to earn them, then slowly closed the lid. When they’d been hung around my neck I’d thought my life was complete, but now I felt like something was missing. I set the case in plain sight so I wouldn’t forget it in the morning.

I stripped out of my clothes. I bet we looked the pair in Mango’s. Tanya, dressed in her snappy gray suit, and me wearing what amounted to a workout uniform. Beauty and the Beast. I tossed my clothes into the hamper for later washing. It was still early, but a nice hot shower would help me relax.

I stood in the shower, the water pouring over my head. I had seen a new side of Tanya at dinner. I’d already suspected she had a wicked sense of humor and had seen flashes of it over the last couple of days when she’d given me a zinger after I teased her about something. But at dinner tonight, she’d seemed to let her guard down a little. She became a little less Tanya Jacobs, private eye, and a little more Tanya Jacobs, woman. I liked what I’d seen. I liked the fact that despite several devastating personal setbacks, she’d moved on with her life. I didn’t like people who wallowed in self-pity or expected someone else to solve all their problems. I respected people with determination and grit, people that could shake off a fall and get right back on the high bar to do it again.

Tanya wasn’t only beautiful, but she seemed to possess the mental toughness I liked. She had the face of angel with her large, dark eyes and small, perky nose. I’d noticed the first time I saw her she was trim 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.

I touched myself, wondering what she looked like under those well-cut suits she wore. I’d like to give her a workout. She might be able to kick my ass in a straight up fight, but I thought I could hold my own with her in a more intimate struggle.

I felt a tingle pass through me as my hand slid slowly over my cock. I’d like to walk up behind her and slowly kiss her neck as I unbuttoned her blouse, taking her pert breasts into my hands. I’d tease the points to erectness as she sighed, my hands gliding softly over her smooth, soft skin. In my imagination, her suit was replaced with a sweaty sports bra and tight shorts that showed off her ass.

Our clothes clung to us, wet with sweat from our strenuous workout as we breathed deep and hard, but not just from our efforts. She pushed my shorts down, freeing my already hard cock as I pulled her sports bra over her head. She held my gaze as she slowly stroked me before I took her lips. I pulled her in tight as we kissed, our tongues dancing as my hands gripped her firm ass.

Our kiss dissolved as she pulled back with a gasp, her smile promising great pleasure. She slowly lowered herself to her knees on the workout pad, but before she could engulf my member in her mouth I stepped back and out of my shorts. I dropped to the mat with her, aligning myself so I could please her as she kicked out of her own shorts.

I grunted, my hand sliding faster over my cock, as in my mind I dragged her hips over my face. I devoured her, tasting her sweat, my arms around her legs to hold her in place as my tongue slithered and darted. She swallowed me as her hips slowly pumped against my face, her low moan of pleasure enflaming me. I could feel my orgasm rising and strained to hold against the rising tide of pleasure. Suddenly her lips were gone as she reared, her legs quivering as I continued to kiss the center of her womanhood. She struggled to escape my intimate ministrations, but I held her in place, intent on destroying her with my lips and tongue.

With a mighty heave, she pulled away, but turned and settled over me, my cock sliding deep inside her. Her eyes intense, she stared at me, her skin glowing with sweat as she bounced on me hard and fast. I grabbed her breasts and tweaked her nipples, her gasp of pleasure fueling my fire. I could feel my orgasm coming and fought the rising tide of pleasure.

“I’m going to come,” I growled.

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

“Fuck,” I muttered, my head tipping forward so the water could pour over me again.

I’d needed that. I stood in the shower, slowly stroking myself as I relaxed out of my orgasm. I blew out a long, cleansing breath and wondered what she’d really be like in bed. My lips twitched in a small smile. More than that, I wondered what it’d be like to really get to know her.