And Playing the Role of Herself (Frankiana)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Stroke...stroke...stroke...breathe.

Stroke...stroke...stroke...breathe.

Tuck...twist...push...kick...

I pushed off the wall into another lap, settling easily into a comfortable rhythm through the water.

Stroke...stroke...stroke...breathe.

Stroke...stroke...stroke...breathe.

A week.

Stroke...stroke...stroke...breathe.

She'd been gone a week, and I'd talked to her three times. Three damn times.

She had called the night she left and we'd had an awkward but sweet conversation about her flight, my day, and our night together. I'd shyly told her I missed her, and she said she missed me too, and I'd hung up with a huge, stupid grin plastered on my face. Two days later she had called again between takes to bitch fit about what an asshole her co-star was. She'd made me laugh and then had to hang up too soon, before anything remotely personal was said. And the final phone call had taken place two days after that and consisted of a stilted conversation about the weather, the island where they were filming, and Argel, who'd made it through the first two rounds of the French Open and was looking very strong. I'd hung up frustrated and unsatisfied.

Stroke...stroke...stroke...breathe.

I knew what this part meant to her. I knew what she felt she had to do to be successful. Her focus and drive were one of the things that attracted me to her in the first place. I knew she thought talking with me would be a distraction that she couldn't afford and I had expected that as she got deeper into filming, I'd hear from her less. I knew all these things, but hadn't been prepared for how damn frustrating it would be. I missed her, and it was driving me crazy.

I glided into the wall, finishing my last 500, and pushed my goggles up. Checking my time by habit, I wasn't surprised I'd shaved a good bit of time off my normal workout. I'd been pushing myself lately, in an effort to keep myself sane, and if nothing else, the next three weeks were going to put me in better shape that I'd ever been in my life.

After a few minutes of stretching out my shoulders on the diving blocks, I dragged myself out of the water and walked to the locker room, my feet slapping wetly on the concrete. It was afternoon and the gym was sparsely populated, so I took my time showering and changing, having nothing planned until dinner this evening with Kiara.

Showered and dressed in shorts and a baggy t-shirt, I dropped my locker key at the front desk.

"Thank you, Miss Mackey." The athletically built man behind the desk took my key with a smile. "Would you like to set up something with Shawn for later in the week? He has openings on Thursday or Friday at one and three."

I nodded, adjusting my gym bag higher on my shoulder. "Let's try for Thursday, three o'clock. And does Toshi have any time after?"

"Let me check." He glanced down at the monitor behind the desk and pressed a series of keys. "Toshi is already booked for that time..." A few more keystrokes. "Colleen has time at five..."

"That'll work."

He entered the information, and looked back up at me. "Okay...I have you booked for a training session with Shawn at three on Thursday, and a massage with Colleen after that at five. Let us know if you need to change any of that around."

"I will. Thanks Greg, have a good one."

"You're welcome, Miss Mackey. You have a great day too, and we'll see you on Thursday."