Midnight Promises. Sherryl Woods

haven’t told them yourself, I can’t promise that I won’t. I’ll push you to do it first, of course, but I won’t allow something terrible to happen to you because of negligence on my part.”

       Frances turned to Flo. “And you?”

       “I’m with Liz on this,” she said. “We’ll respect your wishes as long as you’re doing well and are safe. And it’s not just about you, you know. Your daughter, son and grandchildren would want to know if there is a problem. They’ll want to have as much time with you as possible.”

       Frances sighed. They were right, as usual.

       “Fair enough,” she said reluctantly. “But we’re probably worrying over nothing. Sometimes putting the keys in the freezer is just a sign of having too much on my mind, not a sign that I’m losing it.” She thought of her conversations earlier with Elliott and Karen, her deep concern for these two young people who mattered as much to her as her own children. That probably explained it. Her mind had been on their problems, nothing more.

       “Of course,” Liz agreed as Flo nodded.

       “I think I’ll head home now,” Frances said, suddenly more exhausted than she’d been in ages.

       “I’ll drive you,” Flo said at once.

       “I can still walk a few blocks,” Frances said irritably. “I’m not likely to get lost in a town I’ve lived in all my life.”

       Liz gave her a chiding look. “She’s taking me home, too. It’s right on our way.”

       Frances gave Flo an apologetic look. “Sorry for overreacting.”

       “It’s understandable,” Flo said. “Any of us would be scared to even consider something like this might be happening to us.”

       Frances knew that was true. As they’d aged, she and her friends had discussed every illness known to man at one time or another, but it seemed the greatest dread centered on this one.

       But while she appreciated their empathy, there was one thing they could never comprehend. It was happening to her, not them. And theorizing was very different from the blind panic that had set in tonight.

      * * *

       It was morning before Elliott finally set aside the time to lay out the detailed plans for the gym for Karen. They’d definitely gotten sidetracked the night before.

       He’d called his first two clients to push back their appointments and was in the kitchen making breakfast when Karen wandered in wearing one of his old shirts and nothing else. His mouth went dry at the sight of her. He wondered if she’d always have the power to take his breath away.

       She wrapped her arms around him from behind. “Do you know how sexy you are when you’re standing in front of a stove?” she asked, resting her cheek against his back.

       “You’d be attracted to anyone who fixed you a meal after you’ve spent your days in the kitchen at Sullivan’s,” he teased.

       “Nope, it’s you. You’re this gorgeous guy who looks like a cover model with abs of steel and here you are, all bare-chested and wearing one of my aprons. You just can’t get much sexier than that.” She grinned. “It takes quite a man to go with the ruffles, you know.”

       He laughed. “One of these days I need to buy one of those manly barbecue aprons,” he replied. “If our friends ever catch me looking like this, I’ll never hear the end of it. There’s fresh orange juice in the refrigerator, by the way.”

       “You really do pamper me,” she said, releasing him. She poured two glasses and set them on the table. “When was the last time we had a quiet breakfast, just the two of us?”

       “Before we got married, I think. It’s been way too hectic since then.”

       “How’d you pull it off this morning? You’re usually long gone by now.”

       “I rescheduled a couple of clients.”

       “Were they furious?”

       “No, which was a good lesson for me. I can make more time for us if I put my mind to it.”

       “So can I,” Karen said. “We need to do it more often. It’s good for the soul.” She poured herself a cup of coffee, took a sip and winced.

       “Too strong?” he asked.

       She laughed. “You can’t help it. I think it’s in your genes that coffee’s no good unless it makes your hair stand on end. I’ll dump in half a carton of milk and it will be fine.”

       When he’d set their plates of healthy egg-white, veggie omelets and whole-grain toast on the table, he sat down across from her. “Okay, here’s the deal on the gym. It’ll be a division of The Corner Spa. In addition, there will be six partners, all of us with equal shares.”

       “Who?” she asked.

       “Cal, Ronnie, and Erik, plus Travis and Tom McDonald, and me.”

       “How much money do you have to put up?”

       “We’re still finalizing all that, but I’ll be making only a minimal financial investment compared to them,” he said. “My contribution will be mostly sweat equity. The way I understand it, that’s the way it was when Maddie went into partnership with Dana Sue and Helen on the spa. I’ll run day-to-day business operations under Maddie’s oversight—at least initially—and continue seeing my personal-training clients.”

       Karen looked surprised. “You’re willing to let Maddie boss you around?”

       Elliott chuckled. “What do you think she does now?”

       “It’s not the same. You’re an independent contractor, not a spa employee. If you got ticked off at her, you could take your clients to Dexter’s. And speaking of those clients, are you just going to abandon them?”

       “No, of course not. I’ll still do the senior classes at the spa and see my regular clients. I’ll just have to lighten the number of hours I spend there, so I can spend the bulk of my time at the gym. And they’re talking about hiring someone to be at the gym whenever I’m not, so the place can be open longer hours. It’s a win-win, Karen. We stand to make out nicely financially with a share of any profits, plus I’ll be able to handle more clients since I can work with men there and still keep the women clients I have at the spa.”

       “So, there’s no real financial risk at all,” she concluded, looking relieved.

       Elliott knew he could let her go on thinking like that, and, in his mind, it was mostly true, but after what had already happened, he knew he couldn’t let the comment pass.

       “I do have to put up some money,” he reminded her. “An initial, short-term investment to get things off the ground.”

       She frowned. “So there is a risk?”

       “Come on. You know none of us would be doing this if we thought it was risky, but sure, any new business can face unexpected pitfalls.”

       “How much money, Elliott?”

       “We’re still working that out.”

       She held his gaze. “How much?” she repeated, obviously sensing that he was being deliberately evasive.

       “Ten thousand, maybe fifteen,” he said eventually, then watched as alarm registered in her eyes.

       “Our savings for the baby?” she asked, her voice shaking. “All of it?”

       “I know to you it sounds like a lot.”

       “It is a lot. It’s all we have.”

       “But the payoff,” he began, only to have her cut him off.

       “If there is a payoff,” she said direly. “What if there isn’t?”