He could still see her name at the top of the résumé in bold typeface. “Lily Parker. She’s some local influencer or something.” What else could he remember from the fifteen minutes he’d spent reviewing her application with Neal and the subsequent cyberstalking they’d done? “She had a video pop off, of cliff-diving at Chapel Rock in the Upper Peninsula, and gained a bunch of followers. Young twenties. She has a business and marketing degree from a college in Joliet.”
The refrigerator closed with a sigh, and Maeve sidled upbeside him. “Does she have long, dark brown hair?” Her phone came into view, and the Hit It app filled her screen. She opened the search.
“Yeah.” He unplugged the drain and focused on cleaning the sink. “You follow her or something?”
Maeve’s flyaways swayed like dandelion seeds in the wind. “No, but I’ve been meaning to. She’s always on my What’s New feed. Going on low-budget adventures around the lake is sort of her brand. Hiking, swimming, snorkeling. She talks about other stuff, too. Real stuff.” Her serious gaze flicked up toward him, but he didn’t understand the weight behind whatever she wanted him to understand. She adjusted her phone screen for him to see, and on it appeared a video of Lily tilting her face to the sky while sitting on the bare stone of an overlook in some state park, and in the next she was throwing back shots with a beautiful, bronze-skinned brunette. Maeve turned her screen off and shoved her phone back in her back pocket. “Just be careful.”
Kieran leveled her with the most bored stare he could muster. “Careful of what?”
“Beautiful women who show up out of nowhere with that look in their eyes.” Her auburn brows rose.
“And what look is that?”
“The one where she’s only a step ahead of her demons.”
A flair for the dramatic ran in the family. Kieran shook his head.
“Regardless,” Maeve continued, smoothing her flyaways back behind her ears. “You should do the barbecue. It’d be nice to catch up with Neal and Patricia and let Saoirse play with their grandbabies.”
Kieran grunted. “I’ll think about it.”
Maeve kissed his cheek. “Don’t think too hard. Us girls better get home. Dinner at my place tomorrow?”
He nodded then followed them out to the porch so he could watch them walk down the street toward the L. When they were out of sight, Kieran sighed.
Knowing Maeve, she was already on the phone with Neal to pick a day.
* * *
There was a stain on the ceiling tile—three from the right and two down. He’d have to grab the tall ladder and figure out what the hell was going on up there. If South Side MMA had sprung another leak, they’d have more to worry about than their dwindling membership.
Kieran huffed, his lifting belt straining against his abs. He shuffled his feet into a better hip-width stance and found his center of gravity again. But he didn’t take his eyes off the ceiling. Nope. No reason to look around while maxing out his barbell squats.
“¡Joder! Did you see the new girl Neal hired?” Sebastián’s Spanish-American ass burst into Kieran’s field of vision with more energy than should be allowed at eight in the morning. “¡Qué linda!”
There was no use in telling Sebastián he’d already met Lily. Rather than respond, Kieran focused on perfect reps. At his max, he didn’t have room for messing around, and Sebastián knew that.
But that didn’t stop his friend. “And that office polo?” The man shook his head, his styled dark hair unmoving. “Tragic. We’ve gotta get Neal to revise the dress code for office staff.”
Kieran grunted as he pushed through another clean rep with a quiver in his thighs. “We’ll see if she lasts. One look at our regulars, and she’ll be gone.” The spot on the ceiling, unsurprisingly, was right where he’d left it. He’d need to replace it after the fix. How much money was left in Neal’s repairs budget?
“Oh!” Sebastián clapped his hands once. “Maybe she’ll give this place a facelift. Get some younger clientele in here. I swear to God, if I have to see Clancy’s culito hanging out of his shorts one more time…”
Kieran’s attention whipped away from the ceiling. His gaze swept the room. Most of their clients were the retired sort at this hour. Maybe a few fresh-out-of-school guys who weren’t still nursing hangovers. None of them were close enough to hear Sebastián. “It’s no wonder we’re having trouble with membership.” He leveled a glare at his friend then eased his bar back into the rack. “Keep your voice down.”
Sebastián shrugged and helped him unrack his weights. “I’m just saying. Maybe she’ll be good for this place. What harm can she do?”
Famous last words.Lily Parker could do a lot of harm to this gym. Get Neal’s hopes up. Build a new crowd who didn’t respect the gym enough to clean up after themselves. The types who followed Lily would want a greater variety in group classes than what they offered: self-defense, beginner MMA for folks who weren’t on the team, and a spinning class Rachel taught after her desk shift. A new crowd could run out the regulars with all their selfies and obsessive need to listen to their music without headphones. Plus, South Side MMA couldn’t grow too much. Their space was finite, and as far as Kieran knew, Neal had no intention of expanding. Lily Parker’s presence could make or break their little gym, and Kieran wasn’t the gambling type.
“Sullivan!” The call came from the hallway leading to the office.
Kieran lifted his head and spotted Neal at the edge of the room. Lily stood at his side wearing yoga pants like they were a second skin and a black office-staff polo one size too big—likely an extra from a previous order. As far as work uniformswent, it wasn’t anything special. On Lily’s athletic body, the outfit was a selkie’s song.
Neal ushered her toward him, oblivious to her halting steps and grimace. “Why don’t you take Lily on a tour of the facility?”
He unclasped his lifting belt and towel-dried his hair, removing the sweat from his brow and scalp and taking his good, sweet time. “I’m off shift,” he drawled. “I’m only here right now for my workout.”
Neal didn’t need to speak. All he had to do was cross his meaty arms and stare him down as if he were Samuel L. Jackson himself. No point in arguing with that look; it was the same one from Neal’s coaching days.
