Chapter 2
Mel
Isabelle's program consisted of a Pilates routine that started with quick exercises designed to replace a cardio workout before moving on to standard floor-mat exercises. I led her from the reception and break area down a narrow corridor to a small studio where we held private sessions.
It was a small room with mirrors on three sides and a hardwood floor.
The fourth wall was a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the Hudson River.
Genesis was hands down the fanciest gym I’d ever worked at.
It was all hardwood floors and elegant spotlights.
The entrance area and the break room had leather seats, and there was a generous employee-only spa area in the locker room.
I loved it. It was very spacious, so even though we had a record number of new sign-ups in June, it never felt crowded.
The season of the bikini body had officially started, and everyone wanted to get in shape.
"Should you be working so soon after the car accident?" Isabelle asked as we placed two mats on the floor.
Three weeks ago, I had the scare of my life. I took a cab because I was late to work, and we were hit sideways by a driver who went through a red light. Thankfully I wasn’t gravely injured, but the cabbie did spend a week in the hospital.
"Yes, I'm excellent. Don't worry. My doctor said I could go back to work and do my usual schedule."
"I was worried about you," she said, making my heart happy. In the two months since I'd begun training with Isabelle, she had become more like a friend.
"Sometimes I still wake up at night reliving those two seconds before the impact." I shuddered at the memory. I’d been in shock for the first two days, and after that, I was grateful I hadn’t been hurt.
If I was honest, the accident helped me see certain things differently and perhaps not take anything for granted, like the fact that I was alive and healthy.
That I was living in a beautiful city. And that I had my dad close, and his condition was stable.
For these things and many others, I was thankful.
I did wish a day would come when I wouldn’t worry about his health all the time, but we were blessed as it was.
I was determined to enjoy life more and also not to repeat some of my past mistakes.
At twenty-seven, I’d made quite a few, especially in the dating department.
My ex, Elliot, turned out to be nothing like he seemed.
We were together for three years, and during that time, I helped him with his business.
But when I ran out of money and needed his support, he showed his true colors.
I broke up with him more than a year ago, and since then I’ve dated casually.
But none of the guys I’d gone out with wanted anything resembling a relationship.
So I was done dating any guy who was just looking for sexy fun and no strings.
After the warmup, I said, “Okay, we’re starting with core now—abs and back muscles too, as they all support one another.
As usual, I’ll guide you through the movements, even though you know them, so you don't accidentally forget to tuck in your tummy or not curve your back and you hurt yourself. Okay?"
"Sure. You know, I always appreciate it that you also do the exercises with me and don’t just give me instructions."
"Yeah. That's the only way I can work, because if I'm doing the exercises, I know what the intensity level is, and I can adjust that.
But don't worry, I'll keep an eye on you, and I'll make sure you do everything correctly.
" I only did mat exercises, though. When I was with clients who only did weight training, I only watched and corrected their posture.
"You've been my trainer for two months, and I've never left here injured. I trust you."
"Oh, that's good to know. Does that mean you won’t give me a hard time when I make you do some extra exercises?" I said with a grin.
“You’re mean,” Isabelle said, grinning right back.
I took great pride in my job. I loved being a fitness trainer, and I considered myself lucky to be working at Genesis.
It was one of the most sought-after gyms to work at in New York because it offered complete privacy, attracting high-paying prestigious clients—and the salary was excellent.
I was very fortunate when they hired me two years ago.
I recruited a full client list, and all were happy with me and their results, so management was delighted.
They also were very thoughtful after my accident, giving me two weeks off with full pay!
It was a family-run business with two locations in the city and took really good care of their employees and customers.
Many of my clients recommended me to their friends and family, so I’d brought in lots of new customers. After training with me for a while, Brayden brought Isabelle too, who in turn brought her friend Tess Winchester, and her brother as well.
"So, what did you and Dylan talk about?" she asked while we did a third set of crunches.
I stopped my exercises and pointed at her.
"I know what you're doing. You're trying to distract me."
"No I'm not," she said. When I laughed, she added, "Yes I am. I always do that during my third rep set, don't I?"
"Yes you do. Like clockwork."
"So maybe we should cut the crunches to two rep sets."
I laughed. It was always such a blast to work with Isabelle. She was like all of us, though, wanting to look good but not wanting to suffer for it.
"You said you want a trim waist for your wedding day. Unfortunately, that does require three rep sets to tighten your muscles." Her big day was in November, which was in five months. That was plenty of time to get into shape.
"Well, my abs do look amazing ever since I began following your instructions. So there you go. Torture me away. But I still want to know what you talked about with my brother."
Oh, her gorgeous, sexy-as-hell brother! He couldn’t look more different from Isabelle, who was petite with red hair and green eyes.
Dylan was tall with broad shoulders, his eyes were brown, and his hair was a mix of dark blond and brown.
I didn't want to tell her what we talked about.
Not only because I didn't want her to know I still fell victim to fads such as juice diets, but I was also afraid she might be able to tell how attractive I found him.
"If you insist on talking, why don't you tell me about your brother?" I asked. "But you can tell me later, after you finish your workout."
"Why not now? I can do it now. You know, then it'll take my mind off the third set."
"Isabelle, if you can talk like this while you're doing the exercises, then it's not difficult enough. Come on, raise your legs to forty-five degrees. That's going to increase the intensity."
She did as I said, and just like that, she was having a hard time breathing, let alone talking.
I wasn't quite sure I wanted to know more about her brother anyway. I could still feel his arms around me. They were so strong and determined not to let me fall, and that was a comforting feeling, one I hadn’t felt in quite some time.
Once we were both done with the abs workout, we switched positions, preparing for outer thigh exercises.
We were both on our sides, watching each other, head propped on one hand, raising the upper leg.
"Okay. Now we can talk, right?" Isabelle said, smiling from ear to ear.
"I guess we can." The only exercises that were impossible to do while talking were core exercises. "So, you were saying about your brother," I prompted, not wanting to be the one to speak.
"My brother is amazing. Well, both my brothers are. I’m very close to them, and I'm so happy they live in New York now. They dote on me, and I dote on them. They pretend they're annoyed with me when I get too much into their business, but I know they're not."
“How do you know that?" Since I was an only child, this was fascinating for me.
"Well, that's what I tell myself so I don't feel guilty. I was hoping both of them would have dates for my wedding, but I’ve kind of given up, even though it’s still months away."
"Why?" I asked innocently, telling myself I did not want to know why Dylan wasn't dating anyone.
"Well, Ian is a bit of a player. And unfortunately, I can see Dylan is following in his tracks as well. He used to be a bit of a romantic, but he had a long-term relationship that ended badly, and that soured him on romance."
"Yes, a bad relationship does tend to do that," I agreed, thinking how Elliot made me question myself and the world around me. But I knew the one was still out there. I would meet him, eventually. But one of my post-accident resolutions after the car crash was to stop dating guys who didn’t want the same things I did, which seemed to be the case with Dylan too.
So, even though he was sexy as hell and swoon-worthy, especially as he looked after me earlier, I wasn't going to give him any more thought.
Isabelle was quiet when we moved on to the second leg exercise, and then as we proceeded to inner thigh exercises, the conversation turned to her wedding. I loved hearing about their progress with the arrangements. I was a true romantic at heart, so I was soaking it all up.
When our session ended, Isabelle headed to the changing rooms, but I went back to the reception area for another protein bar.
Propped against the reception desk, I glanced inside the main training room, where we had the cardio equipment and the weight stations.
I immediately noticed Dylan doing crunches.
Holy crap. The man seemed even sexier than before.
Was it all the sweat dotting his skin, or had I been groggy from my fainting spell before?
His arms were bent at the elbows, palms at the back of his head.
His biceps were on display, and his strong arms were my kryptonite.
I immediately glanced away, looking at the floor while I munched on my protein bar. Once I finished it, I headed to the staff bathroom to refresh for my next session.
Dylan, Dylan, Dylan . Why had he made such an impression on me?
By the time I finished all my sessions later in the evening, I still didn’t have an answer. I was pretty tired. The juice diet had been a terrible idea. Oh well, lesson learned, but I still wanted to check on Dad tonight and do some shopping for him, so it would be a long evening no matter what.
“Bye, Shauna,” I told the receptionist on my way out, slinging my backpack over my shoulder.
“Bye. Oh wait, before I forget. A client left you a note.”
I blinked. “What?”
She took a folded piece of paper from the shelves where clients could leave valuables, handing it to me. I frowned, unfolding it.
Mel,
In case you’re wondering why the old-fashioned note, I don’t have your number. Below is mine. I’d be happy if you sent me a short text to let me know how you feel.
Best, Dylan
I reread the note twice more, smiling from ear to ear. I had a suspicion that forgetting about my sexy and chivalrous savior wasn’t going to be that easy after all.