Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter

Thirty-Four

I started out with a series of stretches, doing my best to look confident, like I worked out all the time.

As I leaned down to touch my toes, I cast a glance at Minnie.

She’d moved from the rowing machine to a treadmill by the time I’d entered the room, and she now stared out the window at the busy street, running with the same intensity she’d applied to her rowing.

I looked over at the interior window, where Jemma stood watching on the other side of the glass. She pointed at Minnie and mouthed, Get on the treadmill!

I heaved a resigned sigh and climbed onto the empty machine to the right of Minnie.

“Hey, Minnie,” I said, hoping I’d get to question her without ever turning on the treadmill.

She kept staring straight ahead, a mixture of concentration and determination on her face.

I tried again to get her attention. “Minnie?”

She still didn’t react.

I finally noticed the earbuds she had in.

I glanced over at the window to the lobby, shrugging at Jemma, only to find that my friend had disappeared. If she was off getting a massage or lounging in the sauna…well, I didn’t know what I’d do, but there would be consequences.

“Are you done?” a voice boomed from behind me, making me jump.

Minnie didn’t even blink.

A blond man with bulging muscles and a crew cut stood behind my treadmill, staring at me.

“Sorry?” I asked.

“The treadmill.” His stare morphed into a glower. “If you’re done, let someone else use it.”

I glanced around and realized that all the other treadmills were occupied.

“I’m just getting started,” I said, not ready to give up on questioning Minnie.

“Then get on with it,” he grumbled before storming off to the bench press.

Not eager to incur anyone else’s wrath, I turned on the machine and punched a few of the many other buttons on the control panel.

After a bit of lurching and stumbling, I got the treadmill going at what I hoped would be a gentle jogging pace.

I gave myself a minute to get settled into a rhythm, and a smile slowly took shape on my face.

This wasn’t so bad. It actually felt pretty good.

Emboldened by my newfound treadmill confidence, I waved at Minnie, hoping to catch her attention.

The movement disrupted my balance just enough to trip me up.

I made a grab for the handrails but missed.

Before I even knew it was happening, I flew off the back of the machine and ended up in a heap on the floor.

“Now are you done?” a voice boomed from above me.

I looked up to see the man with the crew cut glaring down at me.

I nodded, having no desire to step back on the machine.

Without offering to help me up or so much as asking if I was okay, the guy hopped on the treadmill.

I struggled to my feet, feeling a twinge in one ankle.

Jazz materialized by my side. “Emersyn! Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I assured her, but I winced when I put weight on my sore ankle.

Jazz produced an exercise ball, seemingly out of nowhere, and slid it behind me. “Why don’t you sit down a minute?”

I did as she suggested, sinking down onto the soft, bouncy ball. The pain in my ankle eased.

“I’m sorry,” Jazz said, pointing at her headset. “I’ve got a call coming in.”

“No problem. I’m fine, really.”

She smiled with relief. “Hang in there.” She hurried toward the lobby.

“Oh, hey, Emersyn,” a familiar voice said.

Minnie.

She was off the treadmill now, a towel flung around her shoulders as she chugged water from a reusable bottle emblazoned with the words Grub Tubz. By the time I realized it was her who’d greeted me, she was already across the room and disappearing out the door.

I knew I should follow her and strike up a conversation, but that would have required my ankle to support my weight. I tested it by starting to stand, but a zing of pain sent me sinking back onto the ball.

Maybe when Minnie was on her way out of the gym, Jemma would intercept her. I checked the interior window again. Jemma hadn’t reappeared.

I closed my eyes for a moment, concentrating solely on calming my growing frustration.

“Emersyn? I didn’t know you worked out here.”

My eyes flew open. Bodie stood in front of me.

I shot to my feet, and the exercise ball rolled away. A man doing dumbbell lunges nearly tripped over it, saving himself at the very last second. He glared across the room at me.

I cringed as I hopped on one foot. “I’m so sorry!”

With a scowl, the man went back to his exercises.

Meanwhile, Bodie had jogged across the room and snatched up the exercise ball. He set it in a bin in the corner, where it apparently belonged.

“Are you okay?” Bodie asked when he came back over my way. “Did you hurt yourself?” He put a hand to my elbow, helping to hold me steady.

“I twisted my ankle. It’s my first time here,” I confessed. “And I’m really not Ultimate Beast material.”

Bodie laughed, but not in a disparaging way. “I think you’re Ultimate Beast material. Maybe your own style of beast, though.”

“You are a kind, kind man.”

“Just an honest one.”

“We’ll leave that debate for another time.”

“Probably a good idea,” he said with a grin that held no trace of derision. “Can I give you a ride home?”

My eyes must have lit up like stars when he said those words. If Jemma really had abandoned me, I would have to hobble to the subway. “You drove here?”

“Sure. The bar where I work is around the corner, so I’ve got a pass for the parking garage down the street.” He gave me a once-over. “How about I bring the car around to the front door after I shower and change? You can sit in the lobby while you wait.”

“Sounds good. Thank you.” I barely managed to stop myself from telling him he was my hero.

When I limped out into the lobby a minute later, Jazz shot me a sympathetic smile.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“A little better, thanks,” I replied.

“Glad to hear it!” She produced my jacket from beneath the desk. “Your friend asked me to hold this for you.”

“Where did she go?” I still harbored suspicions that she was getting a massage somewhere in the depths of the building.

“She said something about a work emergency?” The phone on the desk rang, and Jazz reached up to tap a button on her headset.

“I haven’t paid for my pass yet,” I said quickly. Not with money, anyway. My ankle had paid a price. My dignity too.

“Your friend took care of all that. Excuse me.”

Jazz answered the call, and I limped over to a padded bench and dropped down onto it with a whimper.

I wrapped my jacket around me and fished my phone out of the pocket.

Jemma had texted me, apologizing profusely that she had to run to the salon to style a client’s hair for a last-minute event.

I grumbled a few choice words before stuffing my phone back in my pocket.

The next time my bestie had a bright idea, I would run for the hills.

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