7. Chapter 7
seven
H eavy felt at once tense as the steel rod in a lifting bar, and as light as one of the bunched black, silver and gold balloons fluttering over the heads of the crowd filling the parking lot outside the gym. A crowd filled the gym too, checking out the workout areas, the locker rooms, and either signing up with a printed form, or grabbing one to take with them, and promising to get back soon.
He knew not all of them would sign up, that was just statistics. And some were only here for the free hot dog, cheeseburger, or vegan burger, chips and drinks from The Hangar food truck outside. But all in all, his grand opening was looking like a success.
He stood by the reception desk, a smile on his face, greeting everyone who came in.
Cassie, like a total sweetheart, stayed behind the desk, waving brochures at everyone who came near her, and passing Heavy tee shirts to hand out. She even got sizes right most of the time.
And she snapped photos with her phone–the girl was a one-person paparazzi team. He'd set up an Instagram page for the gym, and then forgotten about it, but he guessed it was gonna be up and going now, for sure.
The Flyers and their old ladies were out in force.
Stick and Sara stayed only long enough to give their stamp of royal club approval, but not long enough for Dash and Kick to break anything. Rocker, Rav and Della stopped by in their Rock Solid Security jackets, on a break from a special weekend job, Rav bearing Boo in one arm. T-Bear and Manda, Moke and Shelle arrived together, and Moke nodded with satisfaction at Heavy's array of weights.
Cooler slapped Heavy on the back. "Happy now, brother? Got a nice crowd, just like I told you."
"Looks like everyone in town is here," RaeAnn agreed.
"Free food from the Hangar," Heavy said wryly.
"And tees," Cassie put in, displaying her own proudly.
"Cute," RaeAnn admired. "Do you have any in ladies’ large? I don’t want mine too clingy."
“Yeah, you do, babe,” Cooler told her, giving her a molten look. She wrinkled her nose at him, her cheeks going pink.
Heavy chuckled. "Cassie'll help you out with that. Cooler, you gonna wear one?"
"Hell, yeah," Cooler agreed with a grin. "As long as you don't mind me lookin' better in it than you do, brother."
"Maybe you'd better wait till we get home to wear it," RaeAnn teased her husband. "I can't fight off all these women."
He slid his arm around her and dipped his head to kiss her neck. "You can wear yours at home too... with them black lace panties I got you."
Cassie made a gagging noise, and Heavy coughed into his hand to hide his snicker. Her old man did not hesitate to share, for certain.
Another couple approached, and Heavy moved to greet them. "Welcome to Big Iron Fitness, folks."
The man's eyes widened as he looked Heavy up and down, and the woman's lips parted as she gazed up at him. Busy gesturing proudly at the different areas of the gym, Heavy barely noticed.
A couple of lifters stopped in, looked over Heavy’s set-up, and wanted to know if he'd sponsor them in a lifting competition in Spokane. He took their names and contact info, and agreed to stay in touch.
Five hours later, the parking lot held only a few cars. The Hangar food truck had handed out the last burger, and Pico and his fiancé were scrubbing the unit down, while the Flyer club prospects, Drew and Jason, cleaned up trash in the parking lot.
The visitors had dwindled to a few who looked like they truly cared more about their impending date with a beer at the local bar than information about a gym.
Heavy was as exhausted as if he'd worked out furiously to pump up, gone through a competition all the way to the top three, and stood through the awards ceremony and all the accompanying photos.
But he was still wired too, because he'd finally, fuckin’ done it!
Opened his gym, and signed up a boatload of clients with a month's trial membership. Some had even insisted on booking him for a complimentary training session.
To his surprise, Cassie had stuck as a volunteer for the entire grand opening.
She'd stayed busy even when the fitness tees were gone--handing out brochures, chatting people up, and hustling around the gym with a trash bag, picking up soiled paper goods from the burgers and drinks.
Now she was bent over, wiping kid smudges off the glass front display case under the reception counter. Her lush ass swayed as she rubbed vigorously.
Heavy's mind flashed to a filthy scenario in which she did her cleaning wearing nothing but a black lace thong on that ass, topped by the Heavy Iron tee.
Chagrined, he shook his head to dispel that shit, right now.
Goddamn Cooler for putting that image in his head by saying it to his old lady, because what the hell? RaeAnn was a grown woman, but Cassie was just a kid.
Heavy was not one of those pervs always looking to score with gals much younger than him. He went for women nearer his own age of twenty-eight, who dressed sexy, and who wore sexy makeup and hair, not tomboys with weird haircuts.
Cassie was a sweet kid, and a hard worker. And that was it.
"Thanks for all your help today," he told her as he shuffled together the few brochures that were left on the counter. "You keep this up, I'm gonna have to hire you."
She beamed at him, her pretty blue eyes sparkling with pleasure. "You're welcome, and you have a very cool place here. But I'm looking for a job in retail."
"Really? What kind of stuff d’you wanna sell? Like a gift shop, or something?" She’d fit into the hipster scene, with her funky hair and no makeup.
She shrugged. "I don't know, maybe. But I'll work my way up to manager, and eventually I might even own my own business, like you."
Heavy nodded, because she was sparky and outgoing and didn't seem to have a shy bone in her curvy little body. "No doubt in my mind you can do it," he told her. "But while you’re building your business empire, you're gonna work out here at Heavy Iron, right?'
"Of course," she said, giving him a wide-eyed look as if any other alternative was unthinkable. "I'll be here tomorrow morning."
He grinned. "Great. We open at six am."
She scrunched her cute nose in distaste. "Um... that's a little early for me. You know how dark it is at that time of morning?"
"Yeah, I do, seeing as I'll be getting up at five am. Gotta be in here to open in time for the clients who wanna work out before they head off to their day jobs."
"Sure," she said. "It's cool that you're open for them, but don’t look for me that early. Once I find a job, I’m more likely to come in after work … to defuse, y’ know?"
"Sure. Each to their own.”
She gave him another of her sunny smiles, and a little wave. "Okay, bye. See you."
"Yeah, you will." He watched her sashay out through the glass doors, keeping his gaze firmly above that ass of hers. Good to know she'd be around. She was like a ray of sunshine zinging around the place, brightening it up. Even now, the place seemed almost too quiet without her.
Or maybe that was because all his visitors had headed home, he realized. His grand opening was over.
Anyway, he hoped Cassie would invite friends to give the gym a try. Get some other girls in here to work out. That'd be good. Girls attracted guys, and they were all paying clients.
He moved on to closing up for the day.
Heavy Iron Fitness was absolutely slammed the entire first week of business.
Heavy reminded himself that this was normal for new businesses, and that many of the gym's users were simply using their complimentary initial visit.
But when they came back for more, and the ranks of new members swelled, his elation swelled with them. Yesss, it was happening. Heavy Iron was working as a business.
And so was he–harder than he ever had in his life. By the middle of his second week, Heavy realized he needed help and soon, if he was going to be able to take any small group clients at the gym the way he’d planned, or get more than five hours of sleep a night.
Rocker happened to stop in when Heavy was hunched over his computer, filling out a 'help wanted' form on a local job listing site.
The Flyers' veep peered over Heavy's shoulder. "Looking to hire some help?"
"Yeah," Heavy said, straightening up to roll his head side to side. "Didn't realize how much time I'd spend doing stupid shit like folding clean sweat towels and restocking the fuckin' toilet paper in the women's rest room, for which I gotta make double sure all females are out first."
Rocker winced, nodding.
At least Heavy didn’t have to clean toilets and empty garbage, as he’d contracted with the same service that took care of the Flyers' clubhouse, a cheerful, efficient mother-daughter team who came in after the gym closed in the evening.
But he was doing what he could. When his books were in the black he’d have the cleaners do the laundry and folding for him too, but for now, he was cutting every corner possible. He could run a vacuum, he could dust, and he had to wash his own clothes, bedding and towels anyway, so he could do the gym towels at the same time–although he’d already done towels three times this week, running up and down the stairs to the basement laundry room in his four-plex after he finally got home from the gym. The windows, he had the cleaners do, ‘cause they had some magic solution and squeegees that didn’t leave smears.
"I hear you there," Rocker agreed. "Running a business is all about the irritating details, at times. Listen, why not give one of the prospects a try? Drew's back from Seattle, hasn't found a job yet, and the new kid Jason's not doing anything as far as I know. Except hanging around the clubhouse drinking our whiskey."
Heavy straightened, nodding. "Hey, thanks for the idea. I'll call Drew first, see if he wants a part-time job."
Heavy liked Drew. Hell, everyone liked Drew, and the club was about ready to patch him in as a full member.
Unfortunately, when Heavy asked him to come in, Drew reported he'd just gotten a job in his chosen field of auto mechanics in Spokane.
This left Jason. At twenty-three, the kid had only been around the club for a month or so. Jason was Snake’s cousin once removed, had moved over from Oregon, and was currently occupying the apartment in Snake and Darlene's basement.
He had the stocky, muscular build of a wrestler, and always dressed in what Heavy assumed were the latest styles--flashy tees, tight jeans, and an assortment of leather bracelets, with a couple of silver rings on each hand. Heavy had chuckled and shaken his head the first time he saw these. One was a coiled snake with tiny ruby eyes, the other a big Harley logo.
The prospect clearly spent time on his hair. High and tight on the sides, it was long on top, and always gelled into a high wave. He had the kind of looks chicks seemed to go for, but Heavy didn’t care for him all that much. He was always smiling, and jumped to when one of the brothers had a task for him, but he also had a cocky streak, and had to be regularly slapped down verbally.
Heavy hesitated before contacting him, but as another gaggle of women walked in the gym doors, waving their free visit passes, he sighed to himself. He couldn’t keep this up by himself. He needed help fast.
Really, all the kid had to do was be friendly to gym clients and help out around the place. If he didn’t work out, then Heavy would let him go, and put his ad up online. Of course, then Heavy would have to put up with Snake’s displeasure. But this was business, so he’d do that if necessary.
Jason was available to start immediately, and visibly delighted to get a free membership to the gym as part of his compensation. Best of all, as a prospect, he had to follow Heavy's orders, or risk losing not only his job, but his chance to become a Flyer.
However, having Jason as an employee was different than having him around as a prospect.
Heavy realized real quick that Jason was not the brightest bulb in the pack. He was not by any means developmentally disabled. He had a driver’s license, and he could do the simple routine shit, like checking people in and charging them for sundries, but he couldn't memorize anything to save his own life, or didn’t care enough to bother.
By the third time Heavy had reminded him of the current password to the check-in computer, which was simple but changed weekly, Heavy grabbed a permanent marker and wrote the password on the inside of the kid's wrist.
Jason pouted about this until a couple of cute high school-age girls walked in, at which point he switched his smile back on full-wattage and welcomed them to the gym.
Heavy made a mental note to make sure the kid was crystal clear on not putting the moves on gym clients, especially chicks who might be underage.
Then he got on with the other hundred-and-one things he had to do.
Britt surprised Heavy by showing up again, at Big Iron the first week of December.
She strolled in the front doors in shades and a tight black pantsuit under a long down coat and scarf, smiling faintly like a Hollywood star visiting the little people.
But remembering their hot night together last time she'd been in town, he walked around the reception desk to greet her. "Britt. Welcome to Big Iron Fitness."
She pushed her designer shades up on top of her head, managing not to ruffle the satin waves of her dark hair. "It's great, Marcus. Show me around?"
"Of course." He led her around the gym, proudly pointing out the different equipment and training areas. While he stopped to correct one of his client's form in an exercise, Britt sauntered away to view the women's locker room.
She gave him a smile of approval when she emerged. "Nice. Very nice. Now, may I see your office?"
"Sure." They headed back across the gym.
Sara Vanko was just coming in the front doors. The statuesque blonde looked tired—no doubt because she had two sets of twins at home, the younger ones only a few weeks old. But she wore a black track suit cut to flatter her full figure, and as always her long blonde hair and makeup were perfect.
"Hey, Sara," Heavy said, with a smile. "Got a little time away from the kids, huh?"
She returned his smile ruefully. "I do. Velvet and Webb are working their magic in my place. So let's hope this place works its magic and rejuvenates me."
"A regular workout routine and proper diet can work wonders," Britt said smoothly.
The first old lady of the Flyers looked to Britt, her smile disappearing. "And you are?"
Britt leaned into Heavy, wrapping her arms around his. "A close friend of Marcus'."
Heavy winced, because her words were simple, but the purring way she said them was not. And of all the women she could choose to give unrequested tips on lifestyle, Sara Vanko was the fucking worst.
"Really?" Sara drawled. "Then I wonder why he never mentions you?" And with that, she swept past them to the locker room.
Heavy moved, towing Britt with him into his office.
"Who was that?" Britt asked.
Heavy shut the door behind them. "That was the first old lady of my club," he told Britt through clenched teeth. "And you just pissed her off, which I do not need."
When her lip-sticked lips opened in protest, he held up a hand, silencing her. "I'm growin’ a business here, Britt. And Sara's man is the one who got the club to front me the money for this place. Sara herself made the effort to fix up the women’s locker room so it’d look nice. So, if you ever see that lady again, all you do is smile an’ keep your mouth shut. You get me?"
She stared at him in obvious shock. But it quickly changed to a pout of contrition as she moved closer, her hand on his chest. "Of course, Marcus. I'm sorry if I spoke out of turn. You know I just wanted to help, right?"
That was debatable. "Just... from now on, don’t. No more helpful tips, unless you’re asked.”
Her eyes flashed at the way he hammered home the reprimand, but then she gave him a shit-eating grin. "Of course. Your new gym is fabulous, and I know you're going to make a big success of it. As a matter of fact, that's why I'm here."
"Britt, look--"
"Oh, now, don't you say no to me," she coaxed. "Not before I have a chance to show you the Fitness Lab supplements. At least give me that."
He sighed. "I'm not making any promises."
She beamed. "That's okay. You wait here, while I go get my sample case. Be right back."
Britt was good, real good--Heavy had to admit that. Or he was more mentally fried than he realized from being the sole proprietor to a thriving business that required constant interaction with clients.
Because somehow, before another hour had passed, he had agreed to carry a few Fitness Lab supplements, 'Designed especially to lift fitness to the next level–build lean muscle and replace fat!'
He really ought to do some research on the products before committing to carrying them in his gym. He knew that… but it wasn’t like he had the time right now, and besides, he knew Britt. She was into the fitness life–if she took these herself, they were top quality.
He’d do some indepth research on the company later, though, he promised himself. Make sure their goals overall aligned with his.
Like a slim, lithe whirlwind, Britt had reworked his front display case, fitting in the supplements--separately coded for men and women--in the form of soft-gel tabs, powder for drink mix, and ‘yummy chews that everyone likes’.
She had him try one of the chews, and he had to admit, they did taste great. They were even sugar free, made with stevia leaf.
On the corner of the reception desk she set up a small display, complete with a standup cutout of herself and a dark-haired, male body-builder Heavy didn't know, both holding a Fitness Lab product. The box in front of them contained a stack of brochures with a tear-off coupon for free samples and discounts.
"I'll be through twice a month," she told him. "To replenish your supplies, and.... have some fun?" She trailed a fingernail down his torso to his groin as she said this, with a smile that made her meaning clear.
"You provide that service for all your customers?" He grabbed her hand before she hit R-rated territory, even as his cock twitched with interest.
She gave him an indignant look. "Marcus! Of course not. I've missed you, I told you that."
"Come by my place tonight," he invited. "You can show me how much."
Maybe that would work out his frustration with her offering her opinions where they weren’t wanted. They agreed to meet at his apartment after the gym closed, and she strutted out.
Heavy didn't watch her go, as a pair of clients, husband and wife, stepped up to check in for their workout with him. "Hey, folks, good to see you. Ready for a great work out?"
"We sure are," the man said heartily. His wife smiled hesitantly.
That was fine, Heavy would offer her a workout tuned to her fitness level and interests, and do his best to make sure both of them left happy. That's what his business was about, meeting people where they were, letting them ask for help to change what they wanted to change, and showing them ways to begin the process.
He might use his muscles as a draw for his gym, but everyone had their own ideal body. And they were all different.
He got that, even if Britt didn’t.