Doors locked.
Floors cleaned.
Carpets vacuumed.
Bathrooms bleached.
Doors locked.
Windows locked.
Dishes in the dishwasher.
TV dusted.
Garbage taken out.
Doors locked.
I go over my nighttime ritual in my head, over and over again, repeating my checklist, double-checking my precisely laid out list.
Scanning my open-concept condo that overlooks the ocean, I take in everything. Chairs are lined up along the back of the rug, remotes are perpendicular to the TV, throw blankets are rolled and organized by color in the basket, counters are completely clear, and all the doors are locked. I double-checked them along with the windows. Three times. Reiterating in my head their strength and the alarm system I have in place, to let me know if there is a lock out of place.
Now I just have to wait . . .for her.
Ruby Hearts was not my first choice when it came to working on the foundation with another person but Eva didn’t have time, Lauren wasn’t interested, and no one else at the club was deemed trustworthy enough to work closely with. Eva assured me Ruby would be sweet and able to keep things confidential.
It’s not that I don’t like Ruby, I do. She’s nice and quirky in her own way, but I don’t know her like Eva does.I choose not to expose others to my demons and insecurities. Who would want that anyway?
I’m flawed mentally, and my personality doesn’t shine like it should, given my stature and position in the sports community. There is a high demand for my time and attention in the public eye, for my assistance in raising money, in teaching camps, but I’m jaded, skittish, barely able to function in social settings other than ones I’m already comfortable with.
I swim, train, lift weights, volunteer at the Boys and Girls Club, eat, and sleep. I don’t have a social life; I don’t have friends, and the only people I talk to are my coach and my sister.
But the insistence of my person is demanded outside that comfortable little square I’ve put my life in, thanks to my sister and her idea to start a foundation. How convenient she can’t head it up herself. At first, I told her I couldn’t do it, I wouldn’t do it, but then she threatened to put someone else in charge of it, someone I didn’t know or trust, therefore I caved, but I can’t do it on my own. That’s why I’m sitting on my couch, staring at the wall while my knee bounces up and down as I wait for Ruby to show up.
A wave of nervous internal sensations rolls through me. My stomach quivers, my mouth goes dry, and the palms of my hands are extremely clammy.
Ding dong.
My doorbell startles my heart, sending it into overdrive as I look at my watch. Eight o’clock exactly. She’s right on time.
Giving my palms one last swipe over the thighs of my jeans, I stand and straighten my T-shirt, fidgeting with it just to give my firing nerves something to do.
You can do this, Bodi. It’s just an hour or so talking about the foundation. Nothing more.
But what if she wants to get to know me?
My hand stretches for the doorknob just as my mind thinks of all the things she could ask me.
Why is it so clean in here?
Why are all the blinds shut?
Why are you adamant about your security system?I grip my hair and pull on the stands, retreating from the door, just as she knocks.
“Fuck,” I mutter, trying to steady my erratic breathing, my fingers twirling in my hair, pulling tightly enough to cause pain to radiate through my skull.
Steadying myself, I look at my reflection in the entryway mirror, taking in my appearance. My eyes are heavy with fear, my hair is volatile, and my jaw is tense with anticipation of what stands behind my front door.
