She’s just so perfect all the time. But the Angel standing in my office didn’t have any makeup on and it looked like she’d been crying.“I look...a wreck,” she declared. “Deb, I am a wreck. I don’t know what to do!” She burst into tears and I dredged up some motherly instinct from somewhere and hugged her. We sat on the sofa together and I dried her eyes with a tissue. God knows I’ve been doing enough crying the past month. I ought to know what to do about it. That’s a myth, by the way. Doesn’t. Amy shook her head to bring herself back to reality, and realized that she no longer felt like she was running but like she was being chased.As she slowed her pace on the treadmill she began to scan the room, her blue eyes discreet but perceptive. She found herself staring as she saw a tall, well-built man bent over the desk chatting to the receptionist. Looking him over from head to toe, he was a clean cut guy with a killer smile and steely blue eyes, white t-shirt barely containing his. More

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