He removed his mouth guard and gripped it with his fist. “What are you doing here?” His gruff voice pricked the hairs on the back of my neck.
His chest repeatedly expanded and deflated, while a glistening layer of sweat coated his arms and chest. A droplet dripped down from his throat, making its way between his well-defined pectoral muscles.
Apparently, Lance never told him he hired me to oversee the gym.
“I… um… I was hired to work here.”
It’d been some time since I’d been so flustered. I despised the bout of nerves slithering through me, causing me to stammer over my words. All I wanted to do was shout at him to back up and allow me some breathing room, but no more words fell from my lips. Instead, I stood there, counting the seconds until he spoke again. Or Lance came over to save me from this encounter.
“I told Lance I don’t want you here,” he said, his stare traveling over me from head to toe, the corner of his lip curling after his assessment.
“He didn’t give me the job as your therapist,” I quickly clarified when he narrowed his eyes. “He hired me to oversee the daily running of the gym. Bookkeeping, cleaning, ordering supplies. That type of stuff.”
“And you accepted?” The scar near the corner of his eye puckered with the scrunching of his face.
“Yes.”
“Humph,” he grunted, giving me an additional once-over before he stalked back toward the ring. I was left bewildered. What the hell just happened? Was his grunt a sign of approval, or was he planning to convince Lance to fire me from this new position as well?
I had my answer a minute later when the man who took a chance on me rushed over. Lance’s brows were drawn inward,and the strain of his muscles was evident in the arch of his shoulders.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell him I hired you for another position. I tried to last night after you left, but he disappeared for hours and wouldn’t answer his phone. What did he say to you?”
“He asked me why I was here, saying that he had already told you he didn't want me around.” Lance flinched with the blunt recall of Jackson’s words. “I told him I’m not his therapist. That I’m here to oversee the running of the gym. He made some noise and walked away. I’m not exactly sure what that meant.”
“Sorry about that. I’ll talk to him.”
Against my better judgment, I said, “I don’t want to cause any issues between you and him. Maybe I should just go.”
“Nonsense. I’ll work on him.” A rush of air left his lips. “I’m the one who talks sense into him, remember?” His tight grin barely helped to put me at ease.
“I do.”
“Good. Now let me show you what you’ll be responsible for.”
For the amount of money I was going to be paid, I didn’t complain once when Lance ran through my list of duties. They included washing and restocking the towels as well as cleaning the shower rooms, bathrooms, and even the ring after training was complete. While I wasn’t looking forward to mopping up blood, I’d do whatever was necessary to keep this job.
We stopped by the office, and he showed me the computer software they used for keeping the gym’s financials in order. After I assured him I was a fast learner and had some knowledge of accounting, he led me toward one of the back rooms to show me where the cleaning supplies were stored.
“What time does the gym open for those who have a membership?” It was after nine, and the only people present, besides the two of us, Jackson and the guy he sparred with werethe two men I’d seen the other day, who I assumed were part of Jackson’s team.
“Monday through Saturday, Jackson trains from six to ten. We need him to focus, so the gym doesn’t open to the public until after he’s finished. And we close at eleven p.m. But we have night staff who come in to clean up after our members who prefer to get their workout in later. Sunday is the only day we’re closed to members. Jackson trains double time on that day, taking a short break in between.”
“He doesn’t take a day off to rest?”
“He’s supposed to, but that rarely happens.”
Another question popped into my head, one I internally smacked myself for not having asked when my job title had been switched.
“With the job change, what are my hours now? What days am I supposed to work?”
“You can pick your own hours during the week. As long as all your work gets done, I don’t care what time you start and stop. You’ll get a feel for how long everything takes once you start. As for your days off, those will be Saturday and Sunday. Once I convince Jackson to take you on as his therapist, we’ll reevaluate your schedule as needed.”
“Okay.”
“One more thing,” he said, looking me up and down, frowning at my outfit choice of jeans and a knit short-sleeve sweater. “What you have on probably isn’t the best choice, as you’ll get dirty. Wear something more casual, less constrictive.”
“So, like a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt?”
