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break?"

    "Yeah, you want to go over to Lou's?" Sharon asked.

    "No not really. I had kind of a rough night last night," Polly replied with a bit of a tone. By this time Sharon could see Jason hovering in his office, surveying their interaction.

    "Really?" Sharon asked, perplexed. "Lance told me he was going over to give you a ride home. Did he bring to you what he was giving to me?"

    Polly stepped back in alarm. "Excuse me?" Sharon stepped into the light to show Polly the marks, albeit faint, on her face.

    "He got a little too emphatic about the rules, I am afraid," said Sharon.

    Polly was incensed. "What are you saying—? He hit you, Sharon?" she asked incredulously.

    Sharon's temper rose and she thought better to keep in check. "No, he just mushed my face up like he was wadding up a piece of trash."

    "Well, maybe he was provoked. You're quite the tease," Polly told her.

    That Polly would doubt her made Sharon almost too shock to speak. She simply replied, "I am not."

    "You are," Polly insisted. "You wear your tennis skirts and your Lycra and you strut."

    Sharon was defensive. "I don't show any cleavage. My neckline is up to here."

    Polly countered, "Yeah but your shirt is like a second skin. I can always tell when you're cold. Heck, I can tell when you've ingested something. And now you have two men on the hook. Well it doesn't work that way. Someone gets left out and someone gets hurt."

    "Which one of those is you?" Jason asked Polly as he stepped out into their conversation. "How do you figure in any of these?" Polly was silent. "You said your night was rough. Was that because you got into some trouble? You couldn't sleep? Or is it because you got your brains fucked out by Lance Sanchez?"

    Despite the tension between Polly and Sharon, Sharon defended her friend. "Wow, wow. We are just having a disagreement here. There is no need for you to step in."

    Jason continued. "Look at that," he said, shaming Polly. "She's defending you. You come in here like you are annoyed with her but I say it is a deflection of your own guilt. How long has it been going on?"

    "I don't have to sit here and listen to this." Polly clutched her purse. But there was no mistaking it—Jason was on to something. "I thought better of you, Sharon. I can understand being swayed a little because you haven't seen him in forever but you are engaged woman."

    Sharon regarded her friend and was overtaken by the hurt of betrayal as she watched Polly squirm in the silence. The obvious didn't need to be said now and Sharon wasn't sure she could take it if Polly did admit it. Her best friend was fooling around, on what level she didn't know, with Lance Sanchez. As soon as she could speak, Sharon said, "If you have to go somewhere, I understand. We can catch up later." Polly's eyes filled with tears and regret. One of Sharon's client's stepped in the lobby.

    "Do you need a lift?" Jason asked Polly. "Did you drive?" She nodded her head that she had. Ever the caretaker, he handed her a bottled water. "Sit until you feel better. Give yourself a minute before you get behind the wheel."

    It was rough going through the session to be there for her client, but Sharon made it. She had a break in between and she was going to go for a run to clear her head. How stupid could she have been? All this time she had been telling her best friend she just tolerated Lance and Polly was probably going to Lance about it. As complicated as it was, the turn of events simplified everything.

CHAPTER SIX

    The beach sun was hot; the sky was clear and the breeze was such that everything blended together for the perfect temperate setting for a very long run. All the athletes wore as little as possible to run in the sun and Sharon was no exception. She meandered down to the beach and ran on a paved path that followed the shoreline in nothing more than the skimp of beach running clothes. About fifteen minutes into her run, she heard the one true sound of a Harley easily coming