Free A Great Kisser by Donna Kauffman

like fun. Between riding on the Mall, around the Tidal Basin, or all the trails through Rock Creek Park, she had plenty to choose from. She’d decided that would be her gift to herself, her way of distressing. She’d even looked forward to doing it, imagined herself pedaling around town. She’d just…never gotten around to finding the time to actually get a bike. It had been on her to-do list. Along with making time to ride it.
    She’d ceremoniously burned the list the day she quit her job. She didn’t need reminders now. Her calendar was wide open.
    “So,” she said, “no time like the present, then.” Because the present was definitely not the time to court a migraine-level headache. It could be the thin air, but more likely it was the only serious remaining source of stress in her life, which, when said and done, all boiled down to dinner. This evening. At seven.
    Fifteen minutes later she was riding what they called the “townie” model, which essentially meant it had a bigger seat for her bigger caboose. One look at the narrow, rock-hard wedge that served as a mountain bike seat had her quickly swallowing any vanity she might have had on the subject, which had been ever-so-gently broached by the guy at the rental desk, and opting for the biggest, softest townie model in stock. It was pink. Very pink. She’d been trapped in navy blue and pinstripes for so long, she’d just instinctively pointed at it. The rental guy couldn’t possibly know how un-pink her life had been. But he didn’t laugh, or even look at her funny. He’d merely smiled as if it made perfect sense for her and handed her a matching helmet and water bottle. She decided the rental guy was her new best friend.
    After a wobbling start in which she almost took out a sidewalk rack of fleece vests and an entire folding table lined with Crocs, she finally managed to find her pace, only to have to stop at the first corner as the one and only light in town turned green for cross-moving traffic. So, she took the opportunity to check out the map her new BFF had given her. He’d explained which trails were accessible to her on her “townie” and which were steep, mountain-bike-only trails. She didn’t bother to even look at those. This was supposed to be fun and pleasurable, after all. And she’d already risked death today in the gum-wrapper-size plane she’d flown out here in. No need to taunt fate twice.
    There were various points of interest on the map as well. The ski resort, of course, along with the Olympic training grounds, the Nicklaus-designed golf course, the rodeo and county fairgrounds—just west of town—and a wee bit farther up…hunh. “McKenna Flight School,” she read out loud. “What do you know. He’s a town landmark.” Or his school was. She wondered again about what role he played, if any, in local politics, or just as a local businessman. She’d had him pegged as the sort who kept his focus on his own work and out of others’ business, but then, what did she really know about him? “Other than he didn’t throw you under the bus when Arlen’s secretary had come calling.” And if that was all she had to go on—okay, that and the fact that he was lust on a stick—then she’d extend him the benefit of the doubt. For now.
    She glanced back over her shoulder and realized she’d come farther down Main Street than she’d thought. Another glance at her watch showed she still had more than an hour before she was to report for dinner. Which felt more appointment than social engagement. She toyed again with the idea of trying to call her mother to break the ice a little, but she really wasn’t ready for all the variables that action might lead to.
    She purposely hadn’t gone into any of the shops, either. Other than the rental guy, Melissa, and Debbie at the motel, she hadn’t talked to any locals. “So much for your plan of playing super sleuth.” She had a whole list of questions she’d planned on asking folks