Chapter 10

Clay was waiting at the bar when I got to the restaurant. He looked as handsome as ever dressed in a blue button-down shirt and khakis. His dark hair was a little longer than he normally wore it and he was just starting to get the hint of a five o’clock shadow on his cheeks and chin.

He greeted me with a hug and asked if I was losing weight. I told him I didn’t think so, but I’d been so stressed that maybe I had dropped a pound or two over the week. I’d certainly missed a few meals. I’ve never been a big man. My weight tended to fluctuate between one-fifty and one-sixty , which seemed fine for a man of five-nine. Yes, I worked out, but not every day and I didn’t live on a diet of greens and grains either. I liked to eat and drink and, as someone who was officially middle aged, I knew it was only a matter of time before everything went south. I figured I was only a year or two away from a beer gut (or worse) unless I made some serious lifestyle changes.