Chapter One
Lea
“I feellike everyone hated me today,” I said to James as we grabbed smoothies after I taught my Pilates class. She’d waited around with me and I was happy to hang with her for a little while. It was nice to have a friend who could grab smoothies in the middle of the day. It was nice to have a friend, period. A real one.
James gave me a no-nonsense look. “You and I both know that isn’t true.”
She was right. Most of the time I knew I was a badass at my job, but those little voices of insecurity were always whispering.
“You’re an incredible teacher. Your classes are always packed. Didn’t they just ask if you could take on another class?” She sucked on her tropical sunrise smoothie and I wish I’d gotten that instead of the goddess greens. Oh well.
“They did. And thank you,” I said, feeling myself blushing. I never knew what to do with compliments.
“Are you gonna do it?” We strolled down the street, which was a slushy mess with the late spring, early summer nonsense that passed for weather in Maine. You’d get snow one day and a heatwave the next.
James and I were still sweaty from class, but I’d pulled a fleece on just in case. The smoothie wasn’t helping me regulate my body temperature.
“I might. I have to figure some other things out.” Doing several jobs at once meant all my time had to be tightly scheduled and prioritized so I didn’t drop one of the many balls I had in the air. Too many. Way too many. But it was still better than following the path that had been set for me by parents who didn’t know or care who I was or what I wanted.
James nodded. “Figure out if the time cost will be worth it.” That was true. The payment was one thing, but there was also the planning, coming to the gym, moving my schedule around. Plus, the class was an early morning one which would cut into my sleep. And I was a big fan of sleep.
“Good point.” We finished our smoothies and somehow ended up in front of Between the Sheets, the local romance independent bookstore. Also the place where James’s girlfriend, Delaney, worked. What a coincidence.
James banged on the window and then waved, her face lighting up. Subtlety wasn’t really her style.
“Go ahead,” I told her through a laugh. “I’ll be right behind you.”
James pushed the door open with a flourish and went immediately to a cute blonde who beamed as she came closer. They were so adorable sometimes it made my chest hurt. I turned away to give them some privacy and saw the owner, Larison, helping a few customers. I hung back, since I didn’t need to take her attention away from other people.
I did love coming here. It was like a warm, inviting living room. With a horse mural. There were other scenes painted on the walls, but the whole place had a very old school comfortable vibe that really worked. I also never knew what I was going to find here.
Plus, there were sex toys and bookmarks and so many other fun things. James had told me about the sex toys, which were kept in a corner with a little sheer curtain in front, which made sense. I’d never gone back there. Not because I didn’t want to. But I just…didn’t want everyone to know. Twenty-seven and scared of some dildos. Sure, I had a toy or two, but I’d bought them online and they’d come in discreet packaging.
“Can I help you find anything?” Larison asked, sidling over to where I’d been staring at a shelf and not reading the titles. Good thing she didn’t know I’d been actually thinking about dildos.
“No, I’m good. Just hanging out with James and happened to stop in.” We both glanced at James and Delaney, who were standing close together and laughing. They looked so good together. Their love was palpable in the air. It made me happy for them and a little wistful for myself.
“Imagine that,” Larison said with a knowing look. Several people walked into the shop at that moment.
“Excuse me,” Larison said, going to see if they needed anything. It looked like James was going to be spending a while here, so I’d decided to browse a little before going home.
I couldn’t seem to find anything that struck my fancy, but I did buy some cute stickers and bookmarks that I slid into my bag before I said goodbye to James and Delaney and left the bookshop.
The rest of my afternoon was open, hypothetically. I had a few deadlines for my graphic design business that were breathing down my neck, but I had some wiggle room. I should also get ahead on my social media schedule, but the idea of getting ready and smiling on camera just wasn’t in the cards today. I also needed to do a deep clean of my apartment before I filmed any content. It was shocking what people would find to criticize when you put your content online.
Deep cleaning would be meditative, so I set to work when I got home, throwing absolutely everything in the wash, pulling out every cleaning implement I owned, and making sure every single surface was free of dust. I was completely focused, my cleaning playlist on repeat in my ears.
By the time I was satisfied with the results, I was absolutely starving, so I threw two of the premade high protein meals I got delivered into the microwave. They were “in case of emergency, vent top of package with fork” kind of dinners and I was so hungry I was liable to start gnawing on the marble countertop.
My apartment was upscale, and I wouldn’t have been able to afford it if it wasn’t for the inheritance I’d gotten from my grandparents. If I didn’t have that to help subsidize my rent, then I’d be in a much worse situation, that was for sure. I might have had to crawl back to my dad and beg for help.
I’d rather light myself on fire.
I gnawed on my food while I stood in the kitchen and looked around my now clean place. It was beautiful and had a great view of the city. Absolutely massive windows and a soft industrial vibe that was trendy, but I didn’t mind it. Better that than have everything painted a lifeless gray. I needed the natural light for all the filming I did, as well as the space to make my Pilates videos. Sometimes I was able to use a room at the gym, but I usually had to do that in the very early morning so someone didn’t interrupt me.
Once my stomach was satiated, I parked myself on the couch with my laptop. So much of my work ended up being emails. Emails, emails, emails. And spreadsheets. No one told you how much administrative crap you’d end up doing when you formed your own business. Then there was monitoring my analytics and seeing what content was working and what wasn’t. Figuring out how to gain more organic followers without having to do brand partnerships. That was a rule I’d made for myself when I started, and it was getting harder and harder to keep. My accounts were only moderately successful, but I didn’t want “being on social media” to be my main source of income. Too unpredictable, too soul crushing.
And then there was that little voice in my head that sounded almost exactly like my mother saying that anyone who put themselves on the internet for public consumption like that was a whore and you might as well just take your clothes off for money. There was a reason I hadn’t spoken to her in many years, and it wasn’t just because she’d up and moved to Seattle to marry a man who had started some sort of bicycle company. They’d since divorced.
