“What did you do?” she groaned.
Her head popped up. She knew one thing she’d done: She’d spent a shitload more on dinner than she could afford. She needed to make some money. And fast.
Taylor grabbed her phone and logged in to the Taylor’d Conditioning Facebook page.
Boot camp circuit training pop-up class.
3pm tomorrow.
Zilker Park.
Only $10.
She paid an extra five bucks to boost the post in hopes that it would reach a bigger audience.
“There,” Taylor said.
She may be down, but don’t ever count her out. In her twenty-eight years on this earth, she had always made a way when there seemed there wasn’t one.
Now all she needed was a few people to show up for her class and tonight’s dinner would be covered. Who knows, maybe she’d get enough attendees that she would be able to eat something other than ramen for the rest of the week.
It was a big ask, but she liked to stay positive.
CHAPTER TWO
Taylor crossed her arms over her chest and peered out at the group assembled before her. It was a move she learned from her dad when he’d worked with fresh Army recruits.
The eight people who’d signed up for her class resembled her typical clientele, for the most part. There were four college-age women, a couple of Gen-Xers, and a svelte older woman with sensibly coiffed silver hair and flawless skin. A proud Glam-Ma, as she’d informed the class.
There was only one member who gave her pause. Dressed in a black long-sleeved workout tee, with gray shorts over a pair of black running tights, Mr. Hot and Fit had proven to be a bit of a conundrum.
She’d pegged him as a Craighole, the name she’d given to guys who’d sought her out only after her brush with Internet fame. Each had claimed he wanted to get in shape, but what he really wanted was to prove he could succeed where Craig had failed. As if she were the prize in some video game or something. Jerks.
She was more than happy to take the money they paid for one of her classes, but she found most of them couldn’t keep up with her intense workout after the first ten minutes.
That hadn’t been the case with Mr. Hot and Fit here. He’d breezed through both the warm-up and core exercises. Of course, she had yet to put her foot on the accelerator. Let’s see how he handled her high-cardio sequence.
Taylor clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention.
“Okay, folks. It’s time to get that heart muscle pumping! Now, I understand that fitness levels vary, so you have a choice between burpees and the easier jump squats. I’ll show you.” She demonstrated both exercises, jumping with her hands stretched toward the sky, before quickly making it to the ground and executing a push-up.
“Donotpush yourself to do the burpees if you don’t think you can handle them,” she cautioned. “This isn’t a competition. Work at your own fitness and comfort level.” She gave them an encouraging smile and a thumbs-up. “Ready? Burpees in three, two, one!”
She was relieved to see the Glam-Ma had opted for the jump squats. She sensed that the older woman had set her sights on the class’s lone male participant.
“Keep going,” Taylor called out, repeating the burpees again and again and again. “Your heart will thank you for it, but your arms and thighs may not be so happy in the morning.”
“Mine aren’t happy now!” one woman called.
“Remember to pay attention to your body,” Taylor instructed. “Don’t push yourself past anything that makes you uncomfortable.”
The Glam-Ma inched closer into Mr. Hot and Fit’s personal space, “mistakenly” bumping into him as he returned to a standing position.
“Oh, I am so sorry,” the woman said in a breathless Scarlett O’Hara–style pant.
“Are you okay?” Mr. Hot and Fit asked, his tone exceedingly patient as he took her by the elbow.
“I am now.”
