Theo closed his eyes and sighed. “I can handle Lucy Cunningham.”

Ramona had already shut the door behind her.

“You can open your eyes now.”

Lucy did. And the number on the scale seemed too good to be true. She looked up into the TV studio camera and gasped, “I lost twenty-two pounds?”

She blinked into the lights while the WakeUp Miami audience applauded. Theo offered her his hand, helped her down from the scale, and escorted her back to the row of upholstered chairs on the set. Lucy felt the cameras trail behind her and heard an occasional whistle or hoot from the crowd.

“Congratulations, Lucy,” cooed cohost John Weaver, who clapped right along with the audience.

She felt a little self-conscious sitting there in her snug pink sweatpants and a T-shirt, all eyes and smiles focused on her. At least it was a new T-shirt. A pretty lime green color the makeup people said looked nice against her complexion.

“Do you feel any different, Lucy? Tell us-how in the world does that feel?” Carolina Buendia’s question caused the applause to taper off, and Lucy swallowed uncomfortably. She glanced at Theo, who gave her a wink.

Lucy tapped the small microphone clipped to her shirt, hunched her shoulder to bring her mouth close, and said, “I feel smaller.”

Theo finished measuring Lucy for the second time that morning, then led her from the Palm Club’s trainer room out into the gym.

“Well?”

“The measurements I got at the TV studio were accurate.” Theo shook his head in disbelief.

“But this is good, right?”

“Too good. I don’t want you losing this fast.”

She stopped walking. “What are you, nuts?”

They arrived at the treadmill. Theo punched in a ten-minute warm-up program and Lucy hopped on.