I twisted my wrist reflexively and was about to tell him that it was actually back to normal, and that I didn’t want his help after all. It was going to be a one-sided training scenario whereI would train Dude without expecting anything in return. The fact was, I didn’t want to wear Lycra around him, or sweat in his presence, or be subjected to the boot camp screaming I was sure he did, but when I tried to open my mouth to back out, I couldn’t.
“You still good for tomorrow?” he asked, his expression so hopeful that my heart tripped out of rhythm for a second. “Because I have a lot of cool stuff I want to do with you.”
It was the second double entendre of the night, making us even.
“Yup, I’ll be there.” I nodded, swallowing all of my objections. Did I even own a sports bra that wasn’t stained and gross?
My back door swung open suddenly and Andrew and I jumped at the unexpected interruption. Dude realized there were interlopers after a few seconds of delay, then barked at Mike and a guy I didn’t recognize.
“Oh, you’re still here,” Mike said in shock, frozen in place. “You’rebothhere. It’s late.”
“What the hell?” I said under my breath.
The tall bald guy who was with him stood off to the side looking around the room.
“Yeah, and you just walked in your tenant’s back door without even knocking,” Andrew said, taking a step in front of me. “Is that, like, common practice for you? I just want to level-set myself as a new tenant if you do surprise drop-ins.”
I recognized that voice. It was Charming Andrew, which worked on womenandmen. Even though his back was to me I could hear the smile, which was at odds with what Andrew was actually saying to Mike.
“No, uh, I don’t. Ask her.” Mike nodded toward me, then saidsomething to the guy he was with in a low voice, which caused him to walk out of the building. “Listen, I need to talk to the two of you.”
Andrew shot me a look and I felt worry start to claw away inside me. We were going to talk about Roz’s space. Now.Together.
Mike headed for us, pulling his hand through his spiky black hair, making it stand straight up. He looked guiltier than normal, and I could tell he wished he was actually smoking the cigarette tucked behind his ear. Dude tried to jump up and greet him, but Andrew managed to capture his dog’s focus with a small piece of hot dog.
“You’ve probably noticed people walking around the property lately,” Mike said, his eyes darting between us. “That’s because I’m selling the building.”
It didn’t compute for a second. Mike had been my landlord since I opened the School of Frolic and he’d told me a few times, when he was a six-pack into his evening, that the building was an easy moneymaker. And I knew that everyone who’d rented from him had been great tenants, so he didn’t have issues collecting money.
“Your current leases will transfer to whoever buys it,” Mike continued. “They have to honor them.”
Andrew shifted but said nothing.
“Is anyone interested?” I asked, trying to hide the fact that there was a tiny chance that I might be.
Mike glanced back at the door and shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe. Anyways, I’ll, uh, I’ll keep you posted.”
Andrew seemed to crank back to life when he realized that Mike was heading out. “Hey, I just want to confirm that youwon’t be bringing potential buyers through during business hours. I have some clients who need complete privacy when they train, and I’m sure Chelsea doesn’t want her dog students getting all fired up by people nosing around.”
Charming Andrew was gone, replaced by No Bullshit Andrew. I sort of liked being on his team.
“Yep,” Mike said with a nod as he backed away, already reaching for his cigarette. “You got it, chief.” The door slammed shut behind him.
“Fuck.”
I glanced at Andrew and he was staring at the ground, petting Dude absentmindedly. “What’s wrong?”
His face was pale when he finally met my eyes. “I signed a fucking month-to-month lease. Whoever buys this building can kick me out on my ass before I even get a chance to start paying off my loan.”
And with that admission I realized that itwaspossible to feel bad for Andrew Gibson.
chapter thirteen
I stepped into Andrew’s gym expecting a no-frills box, but the guy had either hired someone to help him or he had better interior design instincts than I realized. The place looked like a high-end city gym, where bottles of water cost eight dollars and the bathroom soap dispensers squirted out Molton Brown.
The ceiling, walls, and rubber flooring were all black, with the only spot of color a runner of Astroturf along the wall, striped and numbered like a football field. Everywhere I looked, mirrors. If I wanted to check out my spandex-clad ass from sixteen different vantage points it was totally doable. I’d worn an extra-long T-shirt to cover it, but I had a feeling there was probably a mirror anglesomewherethat managed to show it anyway.
I shouldn’t have been shocked that he’d built something this impressive. The fact that it could all be pulled out from under him when the building sold sent an unexpected surge of sympathy through me. Mike had known exactly what he was doing when he let Andrew sign on for a month-to-month lease, but he clearly didn’t care. He saw the opportunity to make a quick buck and didn’t even consider the potential casualty.
