A Body to die for

whiff of her scent up my nostrils: Obsession. “He wasn’t from the weight room. I met him later in the day. After the tour, Janey just mentioned to me that a nice gray-haired old man—must have been around seventy-five—would probably proposition me. He might even offer me money. She said he hits on all the new aerobics instructors.”
    I let Leeza take a bite of radish. “And you thought it’d be a challenge to fight him off?” I asked, not getting the point. Alex finished eating. He dipped his napkin in his water glass and cleaned his hands and mouth with it, a habit that always annoyed me.
    Leeza said, “He came to my first class of the afternoon. He’s in pretty good shape for a man his age—he couldn’t jump much, but he tried hard. After the warm-up, he walked over to me and whispered, ‘Meet you in the laundry room after class.’ Then he poked me in the ribs and winked.”
    “The laundry room?” That was Max.
    “On the spa level, behind the locker rooms,” said Alex.
    Leeza confessed, “I thought nothing of it because Janey said to ignore him.”
    “But I took it seriously because I’m a trained detective,” crowed Alex. Leeza beamed at him. My gut lurched. “I staked it out for a couple hours after Leeza told me this story.”
    “You learn anything?” I asked dismissively.
    “Yeah? What did you learn today, Wanda? How to pass out on a stoop?” Alex asked.
    “Your hostility is a mask for your insecurity,” I shared. “And, for your information, I learned how to pass out on a stoop years ago.”
    “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Alex said, “I followed this septuagenarian gentleman to the locker rooms after the class. We showered in adjacent stalls. Had a sauna at the same time. Dressed next to each other in the locker room.”
    “And he kept telling you to stop following him,” I mocked.
    “I was establishing a relationship,” Alex defended himself. “And we talked. About the weather. About the price of real estate—and I must say that you guys have gotten yourselves quite a deal for Brooklyn Heights.” I smiled smugly. Indeed we had. Our floor-through one-bedroom, with a tiny office alcove, costs only nine hundred a month. I realize that in Podunk, people pay as little as three hundred a month for a whole house, but we’re talking New York City here.
    Alex continued, “His name is Eric Van Owen. He’s seventy-nine, but looks not a day over seventy-eight. A very forthcoming man. After five minutes in the sauna he told me about his unflagging sex drive and how this club is really the place to come for men who are looking for a certain kind of workout. I took that to mean exercise of a sexual kind. I knew this from all this incessant winking and poking.”
    “He’s got a mean poke,” Leeza said, nodding.
    “If I wasn’t so tough and rugged, I’d probably have a bruise,” Alex said puzzlingly.
    I made a puke sound. That got everyone’s attention, including our waiter who was busy getting rid of the plates. “Heimlich maneuver,” she screamed with a heavy Ukrainian accent.
    She tried to grab me around the middle. I said, “If you lay so much as one finger on my battered ribs, I’m going to suck your brains out through your nose with this straw.” I held the straw up so she could see it. Her face turned as white as the Ukrainian winter and then she bolted, leaving some dishes and the check in her wake.
    No one was quick to pick up the bill. I prompted Alex, “Just stick to what Van Owen said. Spare us the insight about your skin.”
    Alex nodded. He knew better than to argue after I’ve almost been touched by a stranger. “Van Owen said that the aerobics instructors were all very friendly at the club. I told him it was my first day and that I had found the one instructor I’d met—Leeza—to be a very kind and understanding woman indeed. The kind of woman I’d like to be my girlfriend.” Afraid to make the puke sound again—I rolled my eyes as loudly as I could.
    “After I said the girlfriend comment,” Alex continued, “Van Owen laughed. He said he didn’t think a nice boy like me would want any of the club’s instructors as a girlfriend. He said they weren’t exactly the type you could take home to mother. He went on to say that his mother had been dead for years, and that after three failed marriages, he’s not interested in taking anyone home at all. He was interested in feeling young, staying in good health and in