would--if she would. It was a wound to his pride that she didn't remember anything about him, but then it had only been a brief meeting. Two weeks one summer. She'd forgotten, but meeting her then had changed his life.
He wanted to know who had made her cry. Was it her ex-husband or someone else? Who'd taken her smile from her? Would she give him a chance to bring it back? He was eager to establish a relationship with her, but knew he had to be patient, which was the last thing he wanted to be, now that he’d found her again.
Unfortunately, he had to, especially since she'd changed so much. She hated actors. He silently swore and put on some aftershave. When had that happened? What would she do when she found out what he was? How could he prove that he was different from other actors? He knew it wouldn't be easy to change her mind. He should have told her, but wanted to wait for the right time. But he wasn't sure when that would be.
***
Stacy glanced around at the cream colored walls and looked at her Anger Management instructor. Two days of group activities and heartfelt stories made Stacy want to break something. If hell ever froze over, Stacy knew her instructor would reign supreme. Mora Sharpton had the lithe body of a yoga instructor, a sharp Bronx accent, reddish blonde hair, ruddy cheeks and ice blue eyes. So far, Stacy had been able to endure her and was glad she only had one day left. But today when she entered the room she was the only one there. Her instructor Mora glanced over her paper work. "You've got a nasty temper."
I'm not here to get a merit badge , Stacy thought, but kept her mouth shut.
Mora looked up at her. "This is your last day."
Stacy nodded.
A cool smile touched Mora’s lips. "Bet you think this is a waste of time."
Stacy sighed.
Mora's smile widened. "You're angry right now, aren't you? You wish you were anywhere else but here."
Stacy folded her arms. She only had to last a few more hours then she'd never have to see this woman again.
“Let’s go.” Mora took Stacy to another room where a punching bag stood. She tossed her a pair of boxing gloves. "Go ahead and get it out."
"What? You want me to punch it?"
"You're ready for a fight, you might as well finish it and get it out of the way. You either punch that or me. It's your choice."
Chapter Seven
"I'm not going to hit you and a punching bag won't make anything any better."
"Have you tried it? Scared?"
"No."
"Then hit it."
Stacy put on the gloves then gave the bag a light punch.
Mora shoved her back hard and she fell down with a thud. "Stop wasting my time."
Stacy stared up at her stunned. "What did you do that for?" She stood.
Mora pushed her again. Harder, causing Stacy to fall down again.
Stacy jumped to her feet. "Stop that."
"Why? I thought you liked being pushed around. You like having a reason to be angry."
"No, I don't."
"You're always ready for a fight so I'm giving you one."
"I never said that," Stacy protested. "I don't want to fight."
"Then why are you always angry?"
"I'm not," Stacy said, trying to keep her temper under control.
"What about your ex?"
"He's a bastard."
"And your lawyer?"
"An incompetent one."
"So everything is still someone else's fault?" Mora pushed her.
But this time Stacy was prepared and held her ground and pushed back. "I said cut it out."
"AWS is not something to be ashamed of. It's a growing epidemic, but you don't have to stay its victim."
"AWS?"
"Angry Woman Syndrome. We're under more pressure than ever before and we're not handling it well. No, you don't have to be sugar and spice, but being a bitch isn't the only other option. You need to learn how to face life without letting it destroy you. But first you have to admit you want to change."
Stacy thought of Kelly's blog post, shouting at poor Houdini and ruining Chance's friend's car. "I do."
"Then punch this thing as hard as you can and tell me who or what it represents."
First she punched her
He wanted to know who had made her cry. Was it her ex-husband or someone else? Who'd taken her smile from her? Would she give him a chance to bring it back? He was eager to establish a relationship with her, but knew he had to be patient, which was the last thing he wanted to be, now that he’d found her again.
Unfortunately, he had to, especially since she'd changed so much. She hated actors. He silently swore and put on some aftershave. When had that happened? What would she do when she found out what he was? How could he prove that he was different from other actors? He knew it wouldn't be easy to change her mind. He should have told her, but wanted to wait for the right time. But he wasn't sure when that would be.
***
Stacy glanced around at the cream colored walls and looked at her Anger Management instructor. Two days of group activities and heartfelt stories made Stacy want to break something. If hell ever froze over, Stacy knew her instructor would reign supreme. Mora Sharpton had the lithe body of a yoga instructor, a sharp Bronx accent, reddish blonde hair, ruddy cheeks and ice blue eyes. So far, Stacy had been able to endure her and was glad she only had one day left. But today when she entered the room she was the only one there. Her instructor Mora glanced over her paper work. "You've got a nasty temper."
I'm not here to get a merit badge , Stacy thought, but kept her mouth shut.
Mora looked up at her. "This is your last day."
Stacy nodded.
A cool smile touched Mora’s lips. "Bet you think this is a waste of time."
Stacy sighed.
Mora's smile widened. "You're angry right now, aren't you? You wish you were anywhere else but here."
Stacy folded her arms. She only had to last a few more hours then she'd never have to see this woman again.
“Let’s go.” Mora took Stacy to another room where a punching bag stood. She tossed her a pair of boxing gloves. "Go ahead and get it out."
"What? You want me to punch it?"
"You're ready for a fight, you might as well finish it and get it out of the way. You either punch that or me. It's your choice."
Chapter Seven
"I'm not going to hit you and a punching bag won't make anything any better."
"Have you tried it? Scared?"
"No."
"Then hit it."
Stacy put on the gloves then gave the bag a light punch.
Mora shoved her back hard and she fell down with a thud. "Stop wasting my time."
Stacy stared up at her stunned. "What did you do that for?" She stood.
Mora pushed her again. Harder, causing Stacy to fall down again.
Stacy jumped to her feet. "Stop that."
"Why? I thought you liked being pushed around. You like having a reason to be angry."
"No, I don't."
"You're always ready for a fight so I'm giving you one."
"I never said that," Stacy protested. "I don't want to fight."
"Then why are you always angry?"
"I'm not," Stacy said, trying to keep her temper under control.
"What about your ex?"
"He's a bastard."
"And your lawyer?"
"An incompetent one."
"So everything is still someone else's fault?" Mora pushed her.
But this time Stacy was prepared and held her ground and pushed back. "I said cut it out."
"AWS is not something to be ashamed of. It's a growing epidemic, but you don't have to stay its victim."
"AWS?"
"Angry Woman Syndrome. We're under more pressure than ever before and we're not handling it well. No, you don't have to be sugar and spice, but being a bitch isn't the only other option. You need to learn how to face life without letting it destroy you. But first you have to admit you want to change."
Stacy thought of Kelly's blog post, shouting at poor Houdini and ruining Chance's friend's car. "I do."
"Then punch this thing as hard as you can and tell me who or what it represents."
First she punched her
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