Free When You Were Mine (Adams Sisters) by Adrianne Byrd

away and in its place a maddening headache pulsed.  “Are you going to call Phil?”
    Michael’s hands tightened around the cell’s bars.  “I don’t know.  Then again, San Jose is five hours away--three if Sheldon drives. That’s a long time to wait for another family member to get up here.”
    Joey cocked her head and stared at her sister’s granite pose.  “Mike, what’s really going on with you and Phil?”
    Her sister didn’t answer.
    “You know I can keep a secret.”
    For a long while, Michael said nothing, but then when she finally spoke, it was just above a whisper.  “Phil and I--”
    “Michael Anthony Matthews and Joseph Henry Adams?” the female guard shouted down the jail’s long corridor.
    Michael wiped her eyes.  “Over here!”
    “Michael and Joseph?  What are you two¾drag queens or something?” Ms. Stilettos asked, approaching Michael and inspecting her face.  “You girls are the best I’ve ever seen.”
    Joey rolled her eyes.
    “You two ladies are in luck.  Dr. Benson called from the airport and stated he wasn’t going to press charges.”
    The other women in the jail cell clapped and whistled.
    “Those two were beginning to sound like a soap opera,” one of them griped.
    Michael flashed them a bird.
    Joey ignored them.  “Did you say the airport?  Is he going out of town?”
    “What do I look like, honey—his personal secretary?”  The plump guard sauntered into view as she inserted the key into their jail cell.  “All I can tell you is that you’re free to go.”
    #
    Ryan couldn’t believe he paid someone five times a week to torture his body into shape.  It was insanity, but also a necessity.  The world was a young man’s playground, more so today than any other time, and he was in it to win.
    During his ten-mile run, Ryan thought a great deal about Joey.  In particular, her long legs and her mischievous but innocent dark eyes. 
    Maybe when he returned from location, he could call an agency or something to find her.  He knew her name and he definitely remembered every detail of her face.  Was six months sufficient time for a woman to mourn a breakup?  If he called too soon he could accidentally be filed into the rebound-guy category, or was it called the transition guy?  He never mastered relationship lingo.
    Of course, there was the small problem of her hating his guts, but he would cross that bridge when he came to it.
    “Good workout,” his trainer, Ken, boasted as they slowed to a stop at Ryan’s front door.
    Ryan nodded and bent low at the waist to drag in a deep gulp of air.  He glanced at Ken, annoyed the man didn’t have sweat glands.
    “How long are you going to be gone this time?”
    “Four to six months.”
    “Long time.”  Ken smiled.  “Do you need me to come and help you keep your regime up?”
    Hell, no.   “Let me get back to you on that.”
    “Sure thing.”  Ken jogged over to his Mercedes with way too much reserved energy.  “I’ll make sure my people call your people,” he joked.
    “You got it.”  Ryan forced on a smile and pretended to be amused.  “Catch you later.”  He pushed opened his door and entered the house.
    “You have a package,” Guadalupe announced, appearing out of nowhere and handing him a FedEx envelope.
    Ryan frowned as he accepted it.  “Morning to you, too.”
    “Sorry.”  She smiled.  “Good morning.  Breakfast is ready.”  She floated toward the kitchen.  “One more day,” she sang.
                  Curious, he followed.  “What’s with the big grin?”
                  Her lips widened.  “Don’t you remember what tomorrow is?”
                  Ryan quickly sensed a trap.  “Monday?”
                  “Si.”  She marched back over to him and pinched his cheeks.  “It is also the night you and my cousin, Maria, are attending that roast for Sydney Poitier.”  She touched her forehead and crossed her heart.