The Wife of a Lesser Man (LA Cops Series Book 1) by Sandy Appleyard Page B

hers. 
    Her gasp was audible as he walked right to the passenger side door on her left.  If he turned around, he would look directly at her.  The door opened and suddenly she heard a ‘thud.’  She blindly felt for the power window button in the centre console as she said “shit!”  As the window rolled down, he turned around and smiled sheepishly.
    “Oh Jesus ma’am!  I’m so sorry!”  he said. 
    She smiled and said casually, “That’s okay, I thought I parked a little close.” 
    “It doesn’t appear to have left a mark.  Do you want to see for yourself?” he offered, embarrassed.
    If it did, you can father my children and consider us even she thought to herself but didn’t say it aloud.
    He shifted and made enough room so she could open the door.  Sarah opened the door and squeezed out slowly, grinning.
    “Um, yeah, I guess I did park a little close.”  She half laughed as she closed the door behind her and looked at her mirror.  There wasn’t a mark on it.
    “Ah, you’re right, there’s nothing there.  No harm done.”  She smiled and looked at him.
    “I’m terribly sorry about that.  I had forgotten my padlock in the passenger seat. I was just getting it before heading to yoga class.” 
    Her face lit up.  “Oh, yoga?  Yeah, I’m just waiting for my friend.  We’re going to yoga too.”  She felt like a moron.  She might as well have drooled.
    He grinned and a small dimple appeared in his left cheek.  “Well, I guess I’ll see you in there then.”  Then he held out his left hand, which bore no ring and she took note, and offered to shake her hand.  “I’m Michael.” 
    The warmth and softness of his hand made her knees weak.  “I’m Sarah.”  She returned, giving his hand a gentle pump.
    “Sorry we met under these circumstances.”
    Sarah waved. “Ah, that’s okay.  You can bang me…er…my car any day.” 
    …
     
    Shelley put her bag down and unzipped the side pocket.  There were no messages on her cell phone.  She quickly typed in, ‘Where the hell are you?  I’m in the change room.  Class is starting in five minutes!’
    As she waited she began to dress for yoga.  Ten seconds later her phone vibrated and whined as it had earlier.  She looked at the screen, which read ‘I’m here!  I’ve been waiting!  I’ll meet you in class.’  Shelley sighed and shook her head. 
    She saw Sarah standing outside the class and the look on her face prompted Shelley to ask, “What is going on?”  Her face bore a smirk and it looked as though she was trying to hold back laughter.  Sarah grabbed Shelley by the arm and took her inside the classroom, holding her close enough to smell the Caesar salad she’d had for dinner.
    “Oh my god!”  she squeaked. 
    “What?  What?  Tell me!”   Shelley begged.
    “I was waiting in the parking lot and this gorgeous guy gives me a door ding…and his name is Michael and he’s coming to yoga!” 
    Shelley rolled her eyes.  “Oh dear god woman!  I thought there was something wrong!” 
    “No, no.  All is great!”  Sarah squeaked and squeezed Shelley’s arm.
    The yoga instructor entered the square shaped room.  Both girls had their outfits on as did everyone else.  Some people who didn’t have lockers were placing their bags in the corner of the room that had a sign saying ‘Please place belongings here.’  And an arrow pointing down.  Shelley pointed to the sign and Sarah responded by picking up her bag and walking it over.  When she put it down she noticed everyone was already laying out their yoga mats and assembling around the instructor.
    “Come on, come on!”  Shelley coaxed, motioning Sarah to hurry up and grab a spot beside her.
    Shelley had already grabbed two mats from the bin by the door and placed them side by side at the back of the class.  There were about fifty yoga enthusiasts present, and as hard as Sarah tried, she couldn’t find Michael.  Once the class began, Sarah