Chapter Two
Christopher
Tyler stands up, awkwardly forcing Lucy out of his lap by scooping her up and swirling her around on the tile. “Well, that’s my cue.”
I grin, watching him walk around Hannah’s desk to kiss her forehead. I’ve always found it hilarious how differently they feel about money.
Tyler can’t talk about money at all. He finds it deeply uncomfortable. I pray for his future wife.
Hannah looks up at him sternly and jokes, “We’ll get to your finances next.”
“Sorry I couldn’t get you that discount, Chris,” Tyler tells me, dropping his hand on my shoulder thickly, “but also, if you think about it, it’s really your own fault.”
“I know.” I try to look properly wounded, then wrap my hand around his wrist and draw him down like I’m going to kiss him.
He dodges me expertly and heads for the door. “All right, all right, cut it out.”
In the doorway, Tyler points at Hannah, who points back. For a moment, they look like a scene out of ET.
“Good luck,” is all he says before disappearing out the door.
“Good luck,” she says confidently. “Psh. We don’t need luck. We got this. So tell me about your vision for your business, Chris.”
She tucks the end of her pen in her mouth, pulling down her bottom lip, while she cocks her head at me, her green eyes large and unblinking. I haven’t seen her since a couple of years ago when I attended a Jackson family Christmas party.
She seemed less confident then, hunched and quiet, but now behind her own desk of her own business she’s definitely come into her own.
I can feel my short tighten slightly when her tongue peeks out as she taps her pen while waiting for my answer.
“Sure, well, you know, I own a chain of fitness centers around LA and I am thinking of expanding further. I’m just not sure I can afford it and need expert advice.”
“OK. I think Tyler has mentioned that from time to time. I think he said that he sometimes refers his post-surgical patients to you for physical therapy while they recuperate.” she tells me, looking down at her notebook and writing something down.
I blink at her. “Yes, that’s true. And, on occasion, I refer clients who have ortho complaints to Tyler so he can check them out medically and determine whether they need surgical intervention.”
She shrugs. “Yeah, that sounds familiar, but I’m not too clear on the details.”
Ever since I made the Forbes ‘30 under 30’…God, that was 6 years ago…there seems to be a woman lurking around every corner, usually acting as if she doesn’t know who I am – until she eventually slips up and reveals that she recognizes me from the article.
“Well, as I say, your brother and I refer clients to each other,” I point out awkwardly, uncrossing my ankle from my knee and crossing the other.
“You assume everyone knows all about you, Chris, and what you do?”
“I think you should, at least.”
“Why? Because you and Tyler are friends? You came to me. You showed up with coffee asking for my help, even though I haven’t talked to you in a few years. Back then, I thought you were arrogant and full of yourself, and I don’t see that you’ve changed appreciably in the interim.”
I turn my hands up to the sky and leave my mouth open, surprised by the anger I feel coming from her. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She lets out a wry laugh. “Upset me? Again, Chris, I don’t care enough about you to be upset. I’m just pointing out that not everyone knows your every move or is intimately familiar with either you or your business.”
“I’m your client.”
“Well, I’ll look you up on LinkedIn later, how about that?” she spits out, her hand moving furiously on her paper.
“Okay…sorry, I guess.”
I wince as soon as I say it – “I guess” – but it’s too late to take it back.
I should have just said sorry. I am always assuming people, at least people in LA, do know who I am and what I do and maybe that is obnoxious.
But, to be fair…well, look, I have been to Hannah’s and Tyler’s parents’ for various holidays and dinners. There’s no blessed way that Hannah doesn’t know exactly what I do – and probably how many gyms I now own. I can’t for the life of me understand why she’s pulling this attitude with me.
Unless…no. It couldn’t be. Although…she is protesting a bit too much. Where’s all this coming from?
Her eyes shoot up at the same time as I wince, and I see her irises follow the path of my cringe. I must have looked apologetic enough because she nods to herself and says, “OK. Let’s move on. Go ahead and tell me your plans for the fitness centers.”
“I want an empire, basically.”
“I always tell clients how important it is to have realistic goals,” she jokes.
She glances up from her paper for a second, her eyes sparkling, before continuing to scribble something down on her notepad as I talk.
“I’m serious. I mean, I’m already pretty successful, but I’d like to open up some more fitness centers outside of California, too. I’m terrified of making the wrong move, expanding too quickly, and losing it all. I’ve heard that’s a big danger when you don’t expand with a financially sound business plan in place.”
It’s the truth. I haven’t told anyone, not even Tyler, but my dad went to prison for tax evasion when I was younger. He missed a chunk of my childhood.
I never thought I’d have a successful business, let alone be considering expanding it interstate, and I’m afraid of doing anything wrong and running afoul of the law. ‘Like father, like son’ and all that. I know enough to know I need good, solid financial guidance.
For a moment, I consider telling Hannah all of that. Something about her gentle eyes and the smattering of freckles across the tiny slope of her nose makes her seem innocent, trustworthy.
But while I’m still considering it, she asks, “Which fitness centers are yours? I’m not sure Tyler ever mentioned the name to me and I’ve only recently come back to LA from school, so I’m a bit out of the loop.”
“CHOICE Fitness,” I answer, peeling a dog hair off my shorts that somehow appeared, despite my not having touched Lucy even once.
Hannah opens her mouth wide. “You’re kidding! No shit?” I shrug, and she leans forward a little, so that her breasts push together over the desk.
I look at them for a beat before glancing back up at her face, ashamed. “Wow, Chris, congratulations.”
She sits back again but continues to smile at me with amazement. “I’ve heard of those, yeah. I have a couple of friends who work out there.”
I can’t help but laugh a little. “Yeah, I mean, half of LA works out there.”
Hannah’s eyes drop back down to her paper. “And yet so humble, too.”
Her face reads like someone who’s so done with me that a pang shoots through me.
I don’t want her to be done with me. I try to think of something to get back the moment she was impressed with me.
“Thanks, though, Hannah. You know, I worked hard for what I have, and I just want to do the right thing here, you know? Expand in the right way, create jobs for people, help folks keep healthy and fit. Do some good, you know?”
Hannah lifts her chin so that her lips pout in understanding.
“Totally. I get it.”
She leans back and looks me over for a few seconds, looking completely relaxed. She looks over at Lucy and smiles at her in a way that incites her to stand and come over to her.
Hannah chuckles and pats Lucy with her palm.
“Well, at least I think I have a better understanding of what’s motivating you.”
“That’s good. See, I know how to set up and run a gym or fitness center. But I’m not a numbers guy. I don’t know how to interpret them for the most part, and putting them together into some sort of business plan is pretty much beyond me. My last CPA did that for me but he died recently and I don’t like the guy who took over the business. The fact that you are getting yourself set up as a CPA is perfect timing for me.”
I watch her face disappear behind her desk as she nuzzles the top of Lucy’s head. Involuntarily, like scratching an itch or dancing to a beat, I feel myself smile at her happiness. Something about watching a good woman with a big dog…I’m a simple man. I like simple things.
She appears again and smiles a smaller smile than the one she favored Lucy with.
“Thanks for saying that, Chris. Listen, here’s a list of the financial records I’ll need you to gather up so we can have a serious discussion about what you’d like to do and what the business can afford. Once you get all that info together, give me a call and we’ll set up a time to draw up some plans for your continued expansion. Here’s my card. Email’s right there.”
She slides a thick card across the shiny, lacquered top of her desk.
“So impersonal, Hannah. I could have just asked Tyler for your number,” I say, flashing her my best winning smile, the smile that has half of the women in LA tearing out my picture from the Forbes magazine.
Hannah looks at me with something like curiosity, perhaps mixed with sarcasm. She lifts her lips in an emotionless smile as though it’s hung by string, though her eyes twinkle at me under long, blonde eyelashes.
She taps her desk with her pen, rat tat tat, and runs her tongue over her top teeth. “No, this is good.” She points at the card.
Is this flirting? Are we flirting?
I think we are, but I’m not sure when it started, except that she’s gorgeous, there’s no denying that. Her almond-shaped eyes seem to take up half her face under delicate, wispy bangs, a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, and a beautiful head of voluminous red hair.
I clear my throat, embarrassed by the realization dawning on me.
I pull on the legs of my shorts, attempting to hide the growing erection I’m developing because I’m staring too hard at Hannah’s body.
I pick up her card, turn it over, and smack it against the desk, smiling awkwardly.
“Well, hey, I will definitely email you soon then, after I get everythingng together. Thanks, Hannah. And you’ll share your notes with me next time we meet?” I slap my knees and stand to my feet, pointing at her notepad.
“My notes?”
“Yeah, the notes you’ve been writing this whole time?” I chuckle. “What, are they secret? You’re not a therapist, so I’m pretty sure you can share your notes with me, can’t you?” I scratch at my neck and rest my grip on the collar of my tank, stretching it out even further.
Hannah’s smile leaks slowly from the corners of her mouth as it spreads across her face, pushing her cheeks up and showing a wide smile of brilliantly white teeth.
She scrunches her nose like a rabbit and lets out a small giggle, one of surprise and delight.
“Ah, my notes. Here, I’ll give them to you now.” She rips off the top page, scribbles something quickly, then hands it to me.
Now I’m the one filled with surprise and delight because in blue ink she’s sketched out a startingly realistic portrait of me, smiling.
“Hannah, you did this in like… less than 10 minutes.”
“Ah, see, you are a numbers guy!”
When I don’t move, frozen to the spot and staring at the picture, she lets out a chuckle. “Go on. I signed it for you, don’t worry.”
“You have real talent, Hannah!”
“Shucks.” Hannah rolls her eyes but twists a small smile in her cheek. “I’ll see you soon, Chris,” she says in a quiet voice, gathering all her hair in one hand and twisting it into a spiral that shines in the light of her office windows.
“Yeah,” I murmur and walk towards the door. Lucy patters over to me and leans against the side of my leg.
“Well, hello,” I tell her and crouch down into a squat to pat her side.
Hannah smiles at the interaction. “I pat her just like that. Everyone always says it’s too hard, but I swear she loves it.”
“Of course she does.” I look Lucy in her eyes and say, “She’s tough” in the voice that people always affect when talking to animals. In response, she jumps up and licks at my face, nearly knocking me out of my precarious stance.
“Oh! Lucy, no! Sorry, she’s not really a jumper. She must really like you.”
“That’s okay. I like her, too. Hey, girl!”
I smooth her ears down and hold her face in my hands. I bring my nose to hers, and her wet snout is cold against my own nose.
“Hannah, I really am sorry about…”
Before I can apologize again for the stupid nickname, she waves her hand, visibly flinching. I tap the drawing on my thigh with a small nod. “Right, sorry.”
I shut the glass door behind me and head for my car. Halfway down the sidewalk, I turn back to look through the windows and realize that they’re mirrored.
There’s no looking in, no looking back. I look at the reflection of my own face, with its curly hair, thick brows and bumped nose. I wonder how she could see me so clearly so quickly.