Leading Lady

Part 7: Her Place

"You might be surprised at how I live." Kitara said out of nowhere on the cab ride to her home.

I gave a shrug. "You're a bit of a recluse, I imagine so--"

"The mansion isn't so big, the servants are friendly. And there are only three guard dogs. The basement is off limits." I froze as she frowned at me seriously, then started laughing, shaking her head at me as though I was a child. "Actually, I'm pretty active, Shane, you know that."

I smiled, shaking my head at her. This is who I remember texting. "Refresh my memory?"

She answered in an almost sing song tone looking ahead, "I go to dancercise classes every week. I volunteer working with children. I sing karaoke. I cycle almost everyday--"

I quirked an eyebrow at her. I knew about Dancercise, the kids, the cycling, but not the karaoke. Why? She set up activities to keep herself busy, maybe even too tired to want... "Do you go to the gym?"

"Oh, I have a small home gym."

"What do you have?"

"Let's see," she frowned. "Rower and elliptical I use, boxing station and treadmill--which I never use--"

"Well, you cycle--"

"I just don't see a point in pedaling or walking like that, you know? Going nowhere?" She said, raising her eyebrows at me. "I mean, am I a hamster?"

I laughed at that and she did, too. "I suppose not."

"I also have a weight bench and dumbbells," She rolled her eyes. "That was my son's idea. I use the light dumbbells and kettles, but he uses the bar and what not."

"Sounds up my alley," I smiled.

"Yes, it is."

That was the first time she even made any comment or compliment about my body. Was I grasping at straws? Then I saw her giggle and shake her head, looking out the window. Ah, that slipped out. Good.

"My son is in and out," she went on. "He is going to school, but when he is home the ground floor is his, but he spends time at his girlfriend's. The laundry and exercise rooms are also on that floor but we share that."

"Ah, how old is he?"

She took a deep breath. "Twenty. He'll be twenty one soon."

"My compliments."

"Thank you."

"I mean on how young you look."

Her eyes held humor. "Trying to ask without asking?"

I gave her a sheepish look.

"Well, I'm not fifty, but I'm over forty."

"Ah." I suddenly didn't care. She was taking care of herself, but locking herself away. That made no sense. All that passion in her books...oh, come now... "You look better than some my age."

"Thanks," she shrugged. "Don't smoke, socially drink but my friends say that I don't do that enough to say that, good diet."

"Good for you," I told her, covering her hand with mine.

"Thanks," she said. She looked away, staring ahead again.

Hold on, this woman is shy? She wrote hot scenes. She said things online that at times were scandalously funny but most of the time true. And she could be a terrible flirt, making me lean forward intently on my screen. But here she was, shy? I gently took her hand in mine. "Wow, nice watch." It was one of the new fitness watches.