‘The only thing we’re working on is my body,“ Lucy said.

“Sounds like nice work if you can get it.”

Lucy smiled up at him, stood on her tiptoes, and brought her lips to his. She wanted to thank him for being so considerate and figured a nice kiss was a way to do it.

Their lips touched. His were warm and cushiony. They welcomed her, moved on her, felt so nice and smooth. And Lucy stood there on her tiptoes, waiting…

And waiting…

She waited patiently for the zing! she’d felt when she’d kissed Theo. She counted to herself, One, two, three… but there was no zing. Where the hell was the stupid zing?

“You feel good, girl.”

Tyson’s lips went back to hers and his arms went around her and she was off the ground. He was lifting her up off the sidewalk! She started kicking.

“My God, put me down! You’re going to snap your vertebrae!”

All he did was laugh and try to get his lips back on hers.

“Tyson! Put me down!”

He did, and she stood there out of breath and bewildered, his hands still gripping her around the waist. She watched a little smile play on his lips.

“Baby, I’ve been known to bench press three hundred. I could lift you with one hand.”

Lucy did the math, and knew he was sort of close to being right.

Tyson laughed hard and grabbed her hand in his. “C’mon. Let’s go hear some music.”

The outdoor music festival was loud and joyous and he kept her close in the throng. Lucy felt safe and relaxed with Tyson and enjoyed the feel of his arms around her as he swayed to the beat.

Many people came up to her to congratulate her. One woman gave her a bear hug and began to cry, explaining that Lucy’s success had inspired her to lose ten pounds and quit a dead-end job. Tyson took all the attention with grace, yet Lucy noted how he stayed right by her side.

“Are you my bodyguard?” she asked him at one point that night.

“Like I said, sweet Lucy, nice work if you can get it.”

“Delivery for you, Lucy.”

Veronica tilted the dolly on its back wheels and used her sandaled foot to steer it though the door of Lucy’s office.

Lucy looked up from her food journal, where she’d just had to fess up to eating an entire multigrain bagel for breakfast instead of just the half she’d intended, and stared at the dolly. Three nondescript shipping cartons were stacked on top of one another.

“I’m not expecting anything.”

Veronica shrugged and tossed an invoice on Lucy’s desk. “The UPS guy just brought them up. They’re all addressed to you. From the Palm Club. They’re not all that heavy. Want me to open them?”

Lucy frowned. “No. It’s OK. I’ll unload them in just a second.”

She wondered what Theo could be sending her- new workout clothes? A lifetime supply of food journals? Several exercise balls? A self-help book for women who never get kissed a second time?

“And there’s a bunch more fan mail this morning,” Veronica said. “I think it’s so cool you’ve got a fan club. I’ve never known anyone who had a fan club.”

“Yeah. Fifteen members at last count. I’m gonna be bigger than Britney Spears soon.”

“But still, it’s a club. I don’t have a fan club.”

“You’re young yet.” Lucy walked over to the dolly and grabbed one of the cartons. “At this rate, every man, woman, and child in America will be required by law to do something humiliating on television before they die, so your time will come.”

Lucy hoisted the package on the top of her desk, then used a letter opener to slice through the packing tape. She pulled open the flaps and her eyes landed on the familiar small yellow boxes with brown printing. Dozens of little yellow boxes, the sight of which caused her heart to race and her mouth to water.

Impossible.

“Why in the world would the club send you three cases of Milk Duds?” Veronica peered over Lucy’s shoulder and sniffed. “That’s really mean.”

Lucy reached for the invoice with trembling fingers and studied the sender information-sure enough, it listed the Palm Club’s Miami Beach address and number. And it listed Theo by name.

She grabbed her phone. Then put it back down.

Could somebody have put his name on that invoice as a joke? Who would want to hurt her like that? Who would like to see her fail? Who on earth could be so malicious?

Veronica stared at her, openmouthed and bug-eyed. “Ohmigod!” she said. “I thought you were going to rip Theo to shreds. That was close.”

“Yes, it was.”

Veronica eased a hand into one of the packages and held aloft a few boxes of candy. “Because I was just thinking maybe somebody used Theo’s name as a kind of sick joke. I mean, it makes no sense that he’d send you these.”

If Veronica had just reached a logical conclusion before Lucy, the end was near. “I think that’s exactly what happened,” Lucy said.

“I wonder who would do that to you?” Veronica shook the boxes like marimbas and sashayed toward the door. “You don’t mind if I eat these, do you?”

“It’s time to WakeUp, Miami!”

Lucy spread her arms wide and smiled as the vaguely salsalike theme music kicked in. The applause was punctured by sharp whistles and a chant of “Go,

Lucy; go, Lucy“ as the cameras left her and focused on hosts John Weaver and Carolina Buendia.

“Good morning, everyone, and thank you, Lucy, for waking us up today!” Carolina said. “We’ve got a great show for you this morning, including what’s fast becoming everybody’s favorite monthly segment here on WakeUp Miami-Lucy Cunningham’s check-in on her journey from chubby to chic!”

From his spot just off camera, Theo cringed, and caught Lucy’s eye. She shrugged it off and gave him a little smile.

She was wearing a pair of sleek black yoga pants today and a form-fitting scoop-neck shirt in a pale blue. He wondered if Gia was taking her shopping, because he hadn’t seen the hideous leggings or the pink sweatpants in ages. He watched her walk across the stage and wave to the audience, which seemed to get more pumped with each of their appearances. A middle-aged couple in the third row held a poster that said; Lose, Lucy, Lose!

John Weaver spoke to the camera. “Stay tuned. We’ll be back with Lucy and personal trainer Theo Redmond and all of Miami will see just how close Lucy’s getting to her goal of losing a whopping one hundred pounds in a year!”

They cut to a commercial and Theo studied Lucy as she walked across the set toward him, moving with a level of confidence he’d not seen before, almost with a little sway of her hips. Maybe it was the flared legs of the yoga pants.

Maybe it was all the dates with Tyson.

Theo laughed at himself. Despite his logical approach to the kissing fiasco, he now faced another fiasco- Tyson was dating Lucy, and loving it. He’d taken her to a concert, a movie, a couple dinners, lunches. Theo no longer asked. He’d also managed to stop himself from asking how much petting-heavy or otherwise-was going on. He didn’t want to know.

Because the woman walking toward him had melted in his arms once, surrendered to his mouth, showing Theo that beneath Lucy Cunningham’s surface lurked a babe who felt like paradise and tasted like lust. And what had he done after that discovery? He gave her to another man.

He should be taken out and shot.

“My public adores me,” she whispered, standing beside him at the edge of the set. “I think my fan club membership just skyrocketed to sixteen.”

She smelled especially soft and sweet today and he took a deep breath of her. “Are you wearing a new perfume?”

She smiled up at him, and Theo examined her lips for any telltale sign of paradise. He was alarmed to see the scenery hadn’t changed, and decided he’d have to simply avoid looking at her mouth.