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minutes. He’d assigned his four and five o’clock taekwondo classes to other instructors, giving him a two-hour break. His intention had been to create files for his new students, check the references for a couple of potential hires, find a new housekeeping service for the dojo, and to speak with Chip and Karl about a tournament in which he wanted Sheng Li to participate.
    None of his tasks had successfully drawn his thoughts away from the one thing occupying his mind. The one person, rather.
    “For cryin’ out loud,” Gian muttered, rubbing his palms over the scrub covering his dome.
    It’s not like he hadn’t seen a pretty girl before. Webster University, which was only a few blocks from Sheng Li, fed him a steady stream of fetching young coeds. Enrollment always shot up in the winter after the university’s seminars on personal safety.
    Karl never hesitated to hit on the female students, and although he was forbidden to do so at Sheng Li, he managed to get a number here and there from women who cared more about dating someone with good looks than good behavior. But Gian made it a rule to never get personally involved with his students. It just wasn’t wise to teach a potential romantic interest how to maim or kill with one blow.
    The woman in black was the first real test of his resolve. Gian sat back in his chair, baffled. The woman’s boyishly short black hair made her face that much more noticeable. She had the kind of big brown eyes that reminded him of the somber children living in some of the villages he had been stationed in during his tours of duty in the Marines. Just as those children had worked their way into his heart, so had his new student. Only her presence had also moved into his head, keeping him from properly tending his business.
    He tapped the end of his ballpoint pen on the new student enrollment form he planned to give her. Of all the blanks on the form, the one he most wanted filled was the first, the one that came after NAME .
    “Angela,” he said aloud softly, trying to shape his memory of her to the name. No, he thought. Angela’s too soft. “Harriet,” he muttered. Chuckling, he deemed the name too old-fashioned for her. “Kyla, Halle, Jada,” he recited, wondering if she shared a name with one of the actresses he liked. “Rumpelstiltskin,” he sighed, aban doning his little game.
    * * *
     
    She sat in the lobby and watched the five o’clock Strength and Conditioning class. The instructor’s wild blond curls and dimpled smile seemed to make it easier for his students to follow his commands, which directed them to do things that looked more like torture than exercise. One of his students, a statuesque African-American woman with a long black ponytail, chatted at her neighbors, mindless of the fact that they pointedly ignored her or answered her with red-faced grimaces.
    “Zae!” the instructor called sharply, interrupting his own count of the punches his students executed. “Cut the jibber-jabber!”
    “Yes, sensai,” Zae responded with a clean thrust of her right fist, her punches still in rhythm with those of her classmates. Seemingly aware of the eyes on her, Zae peeped over her shoulder and found their owner in the lobby. “Hey, sweetie!” she cried over the fight cries of Chip’s students. “You made it!”
    “ Drop and give me twenty Marine squats, Zae,” Chip ordered. “I must not be working you hard enough if you’ve got the energy to socialize this late in my class.”
    With a roll of her eyes and a saucy flip of her ponytail, Zae moved to one of the bamboo walls and stood with her back to it. Her hands on her waist, she lowered herself on her left leg, her right extended before her, until her backside nearly rested on her left heel. Biting her lower lip, she raised herself and then switched legs, lowering herself with her right leg. The exercise took incredible strength and balance, and Zae performed the reps without touching the wall. She completed her