Stepping into the gym, no, scratch that,mygym, feels like stepping on cloud nine. As I walk inside, the new smell of everything filters in. I really can’t believe this is all mine. Years of hard work and planning are finally paying off.
Thoughts of all I had to sacrifice, of all that was taken from me, float in the periphery, but I choose to ignore them. No point in dwelling on what can’t be changed.
Scanning the empty space, I see Rachel clicking away on the computer. Now that the gym is open, all I need are a few customers to get things started. And, you know, make sure I don’t lose all my money in this venture.
“Hey, Con.” Rachel spins in her desk chair an extra time just for good measure. “So,” she stretches out the word, “what do you think?” She waves her arm though the air, displaying the open gym space.
“I think it’s all unreal.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty freaking cool. Oh, and I think I may have gotten those two guys who were just here interested in signing up.”
“Hopefully the ads I took out bring some traffic in, too. And I have Carla starting that women’s self-defense class next week,” I ramble on nervously as I make my way behind the desk, making a small checklist of to-do items for the day. Sadly, without too many people, there isn’t much to do.
“Calm down. Remember, we don’t have the official grand opening until next weekend. That’s when people will start flocking in. It’ll all work out. Just wait and see.”
Rachel, ever the optimist, always looks at the bright side of everything. I’m the worrier. She’s the spitting image of Mom and I’m cleaved from the same stone as our father. A pang of sadness sinks in my stomach. I wish they could have been here to see this, to see what their children had become.
But, on the other hand, there’s a small part of me that’s relieved they didn’t have to witness what brought me here in the first place.
Keying in on my silence, Rachel scoots next to me, and laces her arms around my waist, leaning her head against my upper arm. “They’d be real proud of you, Conner.” She looks up at me, her big brown eyes watery. “I know I am,” she says, squeezing me to her side even tighter.
“Thanks, kid.” I kiss the top of her head and get back to work, not wanting to focus on the sad stuff on what should be a happy day.
By mid-week, we’ve gotten more than a handful of new members and even though the big event – a meet and greet with a few MMA fighters turned trainers – isn’t scheduled until Saturday, business is already on the upswing.
When I was planning everything out, I kept the staff to a minimum. Since I wasn’t too sure of how many people I could afford to pay, I figured I’d just run myself ragged until I couldn’t stand.
Turns out you can only pull off five fourteen hour days, after a grueling yearlong construction process, before you fall flat on your ass. Other than Carla’s class, which is in its first session, it’s fairly quiet.
I finish my protein and energy drink and look at the clock. Rachel should be in soon to close up for the evening so I can run the last minute errands for this weekend.
The phone rings at the same time the bell above the front door jingles. It’s the guys from last Saturday. They’re both wearing business suits – classically cut and snug in all the right places. Seeing the one who I held the door open for actually makes me stutter as I pick up the phone.
“Hi−uh−” I forget the greeting I’m always on Rachel to use. “Michelson’s MMA. Conner speaking. How can I help you today?” I recover, my voice, professional and cordial. The suits walk up to the counter and I cover the mouthpiece of the phone as I say, “I’ll be with you in just one second.”
“Con, it’s me.” Rachel’s voice is low, barely above a whisper. “Migraine. Can’t make it in.” Her words are clipped; she’s obviously in pain.
“Sure thing, kid. I’ll check on you tomorrow.” She grunts her goodbye, in too much pain to say another word.
I turn my attention back to the suits, who I’ve not so creatively named Suit Number One and Suit Number Two. Their backs are turned to me and my eyes immediately rove over the one on the left. He’s taken off his navy blue jacket and hooked it on his finger, draping it casually over his shoulder. It falls just past his narrow hips, grazing the upper curve of his ass. His other hand is in his pocket and I follow the rest of his arm, fully appreciating the way the material pulls over his bicep and broad shoulder. The guy next to him catches me staring and smirks at me.
If I had a man who looked like Suit Number One, I guess I’d have gotten used to people checking him out. As they both turn their attention back to me, Suit Number Two extends his hand, introducing himself. “Nice place you got here.”
“Thanks,” I accept his comment quietly, trying not to get too proud.
Suit Number One follows his partner’s lead in introductions. His hand is warm and firm, sending little shocks up my arm. “We met the other morning,” he clarifies, pumping my hand.
“Oh, yeah. That’s right.” I pull my hand away, needing not to have contact with him if I want to sound somewhat like I have a brain. “The stroller, right?” I play it off as if I barely remember him because telling him I remember his scent as he strode past me, or the green flecks in his blue eyes as he tried to avoid looking at me, would seem just a bit too forthcoming.
“It’s Dylan, actually.” His full lips spread into a shy smile as dimples form in his cheeks.
“Conner.” I smile back.
Suit Number Two clears his throat. I’d completely forgotten about him even being there. “And I’m Reid.” He shoots Dylan a look that I can’t exactly place before turning his attention back to me. “Now that we’ve gotten introductions out of the way,” he leads.
“Right.” I suddenly remember what I should be doing. “Let me show you guys around and then you can sign up.” I let them walk in front of me into the space where the treadmills and stationary bikes stand in rows facing a wall of televisions. “If you’re interested, that is.” My words come out suggestively and I know I need to tone it down. Hitting on someone else’s man isn’t my style. Doing it right in front of the boyfriend is totally unlike me.
As I step into the gym behind them, I slip back into professional mode. Having to focus on the machines and the classes we offer keeps my attention off Dylan and the pull of his suit across his body.
