Chapter Six
Raw arrived ten minutes early.
The restaurant overlooked Midtown, its floor-to-ceiling windows reflecting the last orange streaks of sunset across the Atlanta skyline. It wasn't the kind of place he normally chose for dinner, but Malik never seemed interested in ordinary.
A hostess led him toward a quiet corner table.
Malik was already there.
"No suit?" Malik asked as Raw approached.
"You didn't say there was a dress code."
"There isn't."
Raw pulled out the chair.
"Good."
Malik smiled.
"I was hoping you'd say that."
A waiter appeared almost instantly, filling water glasses before disappearing just as quietly.
"You come here often?" Raw asked.
"When I don't want people interrupting me."
"They still interrupt you."
"They try."
Raw looked around the dining room.
"You know everybody."
"I make it a point to."
Their drinks arrived.
Malik leaned back in his chair.
"So..."
Raw already recognized the look.
"What?"
"You've been thinking."
"I usually do."
"More about Peach State."
Raw nodded once.
"A little."
"And?"
Raw shrugged.
"Good equipment. Good trainers. Members seem happy."
"But?"
"There wasn't much energy."
Malik tilted his head.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know."
Raw searched for the words.
"It felt like everyone was doing a job."
"And Langston Iron?"
"You and your family are building something."
Malik smiled.
"I was hoping you'd notice that."
Raw frowned.
"You keep asking questions."
"It's a bad habit."
"You never answer any."
"It's an even worse habit."
They laughed.
Dinner arrived, briefly interrupting the conversation.
For several minutes they talked about everything except work. Atlanta traffic. College football. A new restaurant opening on the BeltLine.
Malik proved funnier than Raw expected for this dinner, quick with dry observations and stories that rarely ended where they began.
Malik’s charm wasn't forced. It was practiced.
As they finished dessert, Malik set his fork down.
"Can I ask you something?"
"You've been doing that all night."
"This one's different."
Raw nodded.
"Go ahead."
"If Langston Iron disappeared tomorrow..."
He paused.
"...where would the members go?"
Raw didn't answer immediately.
He thought about the regulars.
The retirees.
The young athletes.
The parents.
The people who came just to talk for ten minutes before work.
"Some would find another gym."
"And the rest?"
"They'd wait."
"Wait for what?"
Raw looked directly at him.
"For the people."
Malik smiled.
"I thought you might say that."
Before Raw could ask why, Malik reached for the check.
"I've got this."
"I figured."
"You were right."
Outside, they stood on the sidewalk beneath the glow of the streetlights.
Malik slipped his hands into his pockets.
"I appreciate your time."
"You still haven't told me what any of this is about."
"I know."
"You planning to?"
Malik looked toward the Atlanta skyline.
"Soon."
He extended his hand.
Raw shook it.
"Drive safe."
"You too."
Malik climbed into his car and pulled away without another word.
Raw watched the taillights disappear into traffic.
The conversation had answered almost none of his questions.
Somehow, he had even more.
The next afternoon, Langston Iron hummed with its usual rhythm.
Raw was returning a set of dumbbells when he heard a familiar voice.
"I was beginning to think you stood me up."
He turned.
Derrick stood near the entrance wearing dark jeans and a fitted polo instead of another suit.
"I said I'd text."
"You did."
Raw smiled.
"So why are you here?"
"I finished early."
Derrick glanced around the gym.
"And I figured this was the easiest place to find you."
"It usually is."
The front desk associate waved to Derrick as he checked in.
"Looks like you meant it."
"I told you."
"You actually came back."
"I missed the place."
Raw laughed.
"You missed my training."
Derrick considered that for a second.
"I wasn't going to admit it that quickly."
Raw shook his head.
"You've gotten smoother."
"I've had practice."
They walked side by side toward the free-weight area.
"You still training people until six?"
"Usually Six-thirty."
An hour later, Raw locked his office and stepped into the lobby with his gym bag.
As Raw climbed into his truck, his phone buzzed.
A single message from Malik.
Malik: Thank you again.
Raw looked at the screen, then slipped the phone back into his pocket without replying.
Tonight belonged somewhere else as he thought of Derrick and then Kevin