Jules nodded.

“Christine Garrity,” the woman said, introducing herself, and extended her hand.

“Jules Thomson Mann,” Jules responded, taking the woman’s hand and shaking it.  She found the woman’s hands were slightly calloused, and her grip was firm.

Jules smiled at her quickly, and turned away from her to face the body-length mirror on one end of the locker room, as she quickly swept her hair up, tucking it into a hair-bow.   She continued to feel the woman’s eyes on her, and, after a couple of minutes, after she’d finished fixing her hair, she took a breath and turned again in her direction.

“Are you a model?” Christine asked at last, eyeing Jules closely, as if evaluating her from various angles.

Surprised, Jules shook her head, her eyes questioning.  Is she coming on to me?

“Hmm… you look like a slim Gemma Atherton,” Christine observed, tapping her fingers lightly on her lips.  “You should be a model.  Your face has the right angles . High cheek bones, well-proportioned features, nice lips.  Plus your skin is extraordinarily clear, and you’ve got terrific hair.”

Jules kept silent, unsure of whether the woman was just trying to knock her off-balanced, and gain a mental edge on her for the sparring session.  Or whether she was just being nice.

“Sorry … force of habit.  When I see a beautiful girl or handsome boy, my mind starts churning,” Christine said, laughing a little, shaking her head.

“So your mind must be churning all the time,” Jules responded, as she started to stretch, deciding to ignore Christine’s stares.  “New York’s filled with beautiful women.  And handsome guys.”

Christine laughed, nodding her head, “Yeah, that’s true.”

She started to stretch also.

“I produce fashion shows,” she explained briefly.  “And I’m doing one for next winter where we want to use for a lingerie show women who aren’t models but should be.”

“So my antenna is up even more than usual these days.”

Jules nodded to signal she’d been listening, and circled her neck, mentally preparing for the upcoming session with their instructor.  After a few minutes, Christine asked casually, as she slowly circled her ankles to loosen them, “Would you be interested?”

Jules stopped stretching, and contemplated Christine, who looked serious.  “Me?  You’re kidding, right?”