White-Hot Hack (Kate and Ian #2) by Tracey Garvis Graves

Author:Tracey Garvis Graves [Graves, Tracey Garvis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tracey Garvis Graves
Published: 2016-06-06T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Do you want to go out for coffee with us?” one of the women in her Pilates class asked as Kate hung up her jacket and stowed her purse in a locker, shaking raindrops from her hair. The temperature had dropped and it had been raining off and on for the past two days.

“Sure.” Despite the gloomy weather, her mood brightened considerably at the thought of going out for coffee. Though Kate kept plenty busy working for Ian, she still longed to make friends. She’d made some strides with the women, as they were now regularly returning her greetings, but she hadn’t attempted any further engagement and, until this morning, neither had they.

“We always go to Common Grounds after class,” the woman said. “We can all walk together.”

“Great.”

When the class ended, they filed into the locker room to shower and change. No one seemed to be in a hurry and no one seemed to own a robe either, maybe because some of the best bodies Kate had ever seen all seemed to be congregated in this room. There was also a lot of stretching and bending. She’d noticed this before, and while she herself wasn’t the least bit modest, she had no desire to put on a show for the others and found their posturing strange.

Kate was standing in her underwear about to reach for her bra when one of the women in the group walked over, pointed at her breasts and said, “Who did those?”

“Um, they’re factory originals.”

The woman put both hands on Kate’s breasts and squeezed them gently, one at a time, as if she were comparing melons at the grocery store.

Kate removed the groping hands from her boobs. “No touching,” she said with a smile.

“They really turned out great.”

“Well, like I said, I was born with them, so I guess I got lucky.” She finished getting dressed, closed her locker, and followed the others out the door. The coffee shop was a few doors down from the Pilates studio, and since her Tahoe was parked at one of the meters in front of the building, she paused to throw her bag in the backseat. One of the women glanced at her car with something that looked an awful lot like disdain.

“You’re Diane, right?” one of them asked after they received their drink orders and carried them to a nearby table.

“Yes.”

There were five of them, and a woman named Wendy went around the table making introductions as Kate did her best to commit their names to memory. “We attend the Monday, Wednesday, and Friday class.”

“Me too,” Kate said. “Unless I have to work.”

The conversation screeched to a halt. All of them looked at Kate like she had horns growing out of her head.

“You work?”

“I work for my husband. He owns his own company.”

“Like, doing the books?” a woman named Nina asked. The center stone on her wedding ring had to be at least five carats. Wasn’t she worried about being mugged?

“Something like that,” Kate said.

“Does he make you?”

“Oh, no.

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