Read Online Spells & Stitches by Barbara Bretton - Free Book Online
Authors: Barbara Bretton
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tonight.”
Meghan MacKenzie paused her game of Angry Birds and smiled at the older woman leaning against the reception desk.
“No problem, Amy. Another one of those migraines?”
“The worst yet,” Amy said, looking appropriately green around the gills. “That last session almost killed me. I’m going to go lie in traffic somewhere and pray a truck drives over my head.”
“A little drastic, don’t you think?” she said with a small laugh. “I hear there’s medication that can help.”
“Been there, tried everything,” Amy said. “Everyone’s gone home except the two women with the trial memberships and some guy in blue sweats. Far as I know they’re in the locker rooms.”
“You mean that hunk with the icy blue eyes?”
Amy stared at her blankly. “I don’t know what color eyes the guy in blue sweats has.”
“Believe me, you’d remember this guy,” Meghan said. “Six feet, four inches of pure fantasy.” He had an aura about him that would make him stand out anywhere. Well, in Meghan’s fantasies, at least. It wasn’t often your private go-to dream guy stepped into your life. Even if it was only a walk-on part.
“If you say so,” Amy said with a sigh and pushed a heavy set of keys toward Meghan. “He just looked like a guy to me. Anyway, you know the code for the alarm, right?”
Meghan nodded. “No problem. It’s not like I’m in a rush to get home.”
“The first six weeks are the hardest,” Amy said.
“It’s been seven since Mark and I split.”
“Okay, so maybe the first seven weeks are the hardest. What do I know? I’ve been married since I was in the cradle.” She leaned over and gave Meghan a quick hug. “You’re young. You’re cute. You’ll find someone new.”
Amy was the nicest of all the instructors at Hot Yoga off Route 1 in Princeton. When Meghan first hooked up with Mark the plan had been to drive down to Florida and set up shop as personal trainers, yoga a specialty. She wasn’t exactly sure how they landed in New Jersey, but first the car broke down, then Mark broke his toe, and next thing Meghan knew she was working part-time at Hot Yoga while he screwed the girl in the apartment across the courtyard.
So there she was, working the front desk and teaching six classes a week while she wondered what to do next.
Maybe she should just pack up her crap, toss it in the back of her Toyota, and head down to Florida on her own. Half the people she’d trained with under Yogini Sirubhi were down in the Miami area. It wouldn’t be hard to find a place to stay and pick up some part-time work while she came up with a plan.
And if she didn’t come up with a plan in Miami, she’d hop over to Nassau in the Bahamas and get a gig dealing blackjack on Paradise Island until she did.
She would land on her feet. She always had. If she didn’t teach yoga or deal blackjack, she could always parlay her pre-law studies into some temp work until something better came along.
Maybe she would start calling some of her Miami friends tonight and get the lay of the land, so to speak. She’d pour herself some red, fire up the laptop, and start making lists. Miami friends. Job skills. Short-term goals. Long-term goals. What she wanted for Christmas, even though nobody had asked lately.
Christmas . Just the thought of it made her feel like she had a migraine, too.
Her mother had been all over her the last few days, spamming her in-box with crazy messages about Luke and some knitting chick he’d supposedly knocked up, but she hadn’t gotten around to answering any of them yet. She and Luke were close. He would have told her if he’d found someone.
Bunny tended to go off the deep end anytime one of her kids went off the reservation and start imagining all sorts of nutty stuff. Despite making detective with the Boston PD, Luke had been the black sheep of the family for most of their lives, but Meghan liked to think she was in the running for the title.
Then again, if he had
Meghan MacKenzie paused her game of Angry Birds and smiled at the older woman leaning against the reception desk.
“No problem, Amy. Another one of those migraines?”
“The worst yet,” Amy said, looking appropriately green around the gills. “That last session almost killed me. I’m going to go lie in traffic somewhere and pray a truck drives over my head.”
“A little drastic, don’t you think?” she said with a small laugh. “I hear there’s medication that can help.”
“Been there, tried everything,” Amy said. “Everyone’s gone home except the two women with the trial memberships and some guy in blue sweats. Far as I know they’re in the locker rooms.”
“You mean that hunk with the icy blue eyes?”
Amy stared at her blankly. “I don’t know what color eyes the guy in blue sweats has.”
“Believe me, you’d remember this guy,” Meghan said. “Six feet, four inches of pure fantasy.” He had an aura about him that would make him stand out anywhere. Well, in Meghan’s fantasies, at least. It wasn’t often your private go-to dream guy stepped into your life. Even if it was only a walk-on part.
“If you say so,” Amy said with a sigh and pushed a heavy set of keys toward Meghan. “He just looked like a guy to me. Anyway, you know the code for the alarm, right?”
Meghan nodded. “No problem. It’s not like I’m in a rush to get home.”
“The first six weeks are the hardest,” Amy said.
“It’s been seven since Mark and I split.”
“Okay, so maybe the first seven weeks are the hardest. What do I know? I’ve been married since I was in the cradle.” She leaned over and gave Meghan a quick hug. “You’re young. You’re cute. You’ll find someone new.”
Amy was the nicest of all the instructors at Hot Yoga off Route 1 in Princeton. When Meghan first hooked up with Mark the plan had been to drive down to Florida and set up shop as personal trainers, yoga a specialty. She wasn’t exactly sure how they landed in New Jersey, but first the car broke down, then Mark broke his toe, and next thing Meghan knew she was working part-time at Hot Yoga while he screwed the girl in the apartment across the courtyard.
So there she was, working the front desk and teaching six classes a week while she wondered what to do next.
Maybe she should just pack up her crap, toss it in the back of her Toyota, and head down to Florida on her own. Half the people she’d trained with under Yogini Sirubhi were down in the Miami area. It wouldn’t be hard to find a place to stay and pick up some part-time work while she came up with a plan.
And if she didn’t come up with a plan in Miami, she’d hop over to Nassau in the Bahamas and get a gig dealing blackjack on Paradise Island until she did.
She would land on her feet. She always had. If she didn’t teach yoga or deal blackjack, she could always parlay her pre-law studies into some temp work until something better came along.
Maybe she would start calling some of her Miami friends tonight and get the lay of the land, so to speak. She’d pour herself some red, fire up the laptop, and start making lists. Miami friends. Job skills. Short-term goals. Long-term goals. What she wanted for Christmas, even though nobody had asked lately.
Christmas . Just the thought of it made her feel like she had a migraine, too.
Her mother had been all over her the last few days, spamming her in-box with crazy messages about Luke and some knitting chick he’d supposedly knocked up, but she hadn’t gotten around to answering any of them yet. She and Luke were close. He would have told her if he’d found someone.
Bunny tended to go off the deep end anytime one of her kids went off the reservation and start imagining all sorts of nutty stuff. Despite making detective with the Boston PD, Luke had been the black sheep of the family for most of their lives, but Meghan liked to think she was in the running for the title.
Then again, if he had
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