This Much Is True

by Anna Albo

  Silence, except for this jerk tapping away on his stupid phone.

  “Why do you think we’re here?” I asked, in an attempt to make conversation.

  “This place is in the shithole,” Ben said like I was supposed to know that.

  “It can’t be that bad.”

  “It’s worse than you think. Marc’s losing his shirt and every other piece of clothing he owns.” Ben said it all without looking up from his phone.

  “I figured it was something like that. How are we going to help?”

  Ben rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s why we’re here,” he said with all the sarcasm he could muster. “He’s going to tell us today.”

  “I hope he doesn’t want to shut down the club.”

  “He’s got too much money in this place to do that.”

  Marc breezed in without a care in the world. He sat at his chair and pushed a few piles of papers out of the way. He smiled at both of us, like his business wasn’t collapsing around him. Ben reluctantly put his phone in his pocket and slouched in his seat some more. The guy was an ass.

  “First of all, I appreciate having you both here. I’ll start by saying that it’s no secret I’m in a bit of a cash crunch. Club membership has been sliding for the last few years, and it’s been hard getting those numbers back up again. The thing is, if I don’t turn it around by next summer, I’ll probably lose the place.”

  It was only then that Marc’s smile slipped. I’d only ever known him as a happy guy, always positive and full of life. The veneer was stripped just a bit.

  “How can we help?” I asked.

  “I was hoping that the two of you could offer private lessons through the club. At a reduced rate at first, just to get people interested. We could also add some strength training and a fitness regimen to it. I think if people looked at it as a fitness and weight loss tool, it would attract new members. We could open this up to people of all skill levels. Bringing in beginners is my ultimate goal.”

  “Beginners,” Ben whined. “That will be painful.”

  “I understand, but I need to get people through the doors.”

  “I’m happy to help, but I’m not sure I have a lot of time,” I said, ignoring Ben.

  “I’m hoping that you both can put in ten hours a week. Theoretically, ten lessons each. They could be private, semi-private or group lessons. We could do a fifty-fifty split. I’d like to add a few more instructors in the future, but I want to start with the two of you. You’re both young and attractive.” He stopped. “Neither of you are going to sue me for sexual harassment, right?”

  We shook our heads.

  “And you both have pedigree,” he continued. “The lessons we have now are boring, but once I add the get-in-shape aspect to it, I think people will be drawn to it.”

  “I have more pedigree than her,” Ben said. The guy was a five-year-old.

  “Are you for real?” I asked. “Do you think people care about a guy who made the semifinals at a junior level in a Grand Slam once a million years ago?”

  Who was I and where did that come from?

  “At least I did.”

  “Okay, kids. Enough,” Marc said. He wasn’t smiling at all now. “Can the two of you put together some programs? They’d need to complement each other. And are you willing to put in the ten or more hours per week?”

  “I can do that,” I said.

  “So can I,” Ben said. “I could probably do more if needed.”

  “Unemployed?” I asked.

  Marc shot me a look and I backed down.

  “Then the two of you put together some workout plans. I’m going to start advertising this on our website and mailing list. I already have about ten people who are interested. Let’s meet in a week or so. In the meantime, the two of you will have it all worked out.”

  Marc got called away to a maintenance issue in the men’s locker room and left me alone with Ben again.

  “You know more people will want lessons with me,” he said.

  “That’s fine.” I wasn’t going to let on how annoying he was.

  “Then I should probably put the programs together.”

  “I don’t think so. I’m more than happy to meet with you anytime to come up with lesson and workout plans. I can let you know my work schedule and we can figure something out.”

  “Fine,” he said, pulling out his phone again.

  “Before you get engrossed in whatever it is that you do on that, give me your number and I can text you my availability.”

  We exchanged numbers and I left. He’d frustrated me enough for one day.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Zach

  I was about to do something stupid, but I couldn’t stop myself. After Emma had gotten home from her meeting with Marc and Ben Morrow, she’d told me all that had gone on. She’d been making conversation when she’d told me, not thinking anything of it, but under my sunny disposition, I was raging inside. Ben Morrow was a piece of shit.

  Knowing that Emma was in class and Morrow at the tennis club, I made my way over there. I didn’t have a plan, but that had never stopped me before. I stepped through the double doors and there he was. At first he seemed to be going over something, paperwork maybe, but when he heard the door open, he casually looked up at me, his face expressionless. I strode up to the front desk and he watched my every step. We were like two prize fighters posturing before a huge match, and the prize was Emma. If this asshole thought he was going to win her from me, he had another thing coming.

  Because I was convinced that was his intention.

  Maybe Emma hadn’t figured that out, but I could tell right away. Guys like this pretended they weren’t interested in the girl. It was really a ploy to find out if the girl was interested in them. And then, when they found out the girl didn’t give a shit if they existed, well, then things got interesting and the chase began. I was putting an end to this chase before it had a chance to germinate.

  I reached the desk and the shithead smirked.

  “Can I help you?”

  The rational part of me figured he had no idea who I was, but my gut was telling me he did. If he was sniffing around Emma, he had done his research.

  “Is Emma around?”

  “Nope. I’m not her personal secretary, but I can take a message.”

  “I haven’t seen you around here before. Who are you?” I asked, sidestepping his question.

  “I could say the same thing for you. Are you a member here? We have a strict privacy policy, and I can’t just give out information,” he said, flashing that smirk again.

  The last thing I wanted to do with this loser was play games. “I’m her boyfriend.”

  “Congratulations,” he said, the sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Kind of sucks that you have no idea where she is. Maybe she’s avoiding you?”

  I really wanted to rearrange Morrow’s face. “Customer service has really gone down around here. I should probably mention something to Marc.”

  “Go right ahead, but Marc might take a complaint seriously from an actual member.”

  “What’s your problem?” I asked, feeling my blood simmer to a boil.

  Ben let out a yawn like I bored the hell out of him. “The only person with a problem around here is you. You can’t seem to find your girlfriend and you seem pretty bothered about it. Unless you’re here for another reason?”

  The way he innocently asked his last question made me want to punch him into next week.

  “I know Emma will be here soon and I wanted to surprise her, not that it’s any business of yours. What’s your name again?”

  “Oh, I never told you, but since you’re so nice and everything, it’s Ben Morrow. Should I leave a message for Emma and let her know you were here, or should we keep it between the two of us?”

  My blood was now a full boil. “I plan on telling her I was here. No secret, Ben Morrow.”

  “You say my name like I should be bothered. Should I be bothered, Mr. Senator’s Son?”


  “So you do know who I am. Why the game?”

  “No game. But like I said, strict privacy policy. And if you can’t locate your girlfriend...”

  “Yeah, you can cut it out now.”

  Ben sighed for emphasis. “Look, you came here. Not sure why. And if anyone is playing a game, I’m pretty sure it’s you. Right?”

  I let out a grunt. What a smug shithead! “Speaking of games, whatever happened to your washed-up tennis career? Kind of sucks, no?”

  For the first time I saw a crack in his armor and the smirk vanished. “Okay, so we’re going to do that now? Look, is that all, because I have to get back to work.”

  “Yeah, Morrow, I’m done with you. For now.”

  I MET UP WITH BRETT for a workout. He’d already gotten started on one of the weight machines when I found him. He scowled at me for a brief second then shrugged his indifference. I felt a little bad. We used to work out almost every day together, but with school and Emma, we were lucky to meet up a couple times a week. I slapped him on the back when I reached him.

  “How’s it going?”

  “Nice of you to make an appearance.”

  “Sorry. I just have a lot of shit going on right now.”

  “I guess I better get used to it. In a few months you’ll be gone for good.”

  “I’m not going for good,” I protested.

  Brett huffed and added more weight to the machine, probably more than he could handle. “We both know you can’t wait to get out of here. You’re never coming back.”

  I loved Brett like a brother, but sometimes he came off as a needy girlfriend. “I’m always coming back. My family is here, Emma’s family is here and most importantly, my best friend is here.”

  Brett rolled his eyes but smiled. “You are so full of it.”

  After our workout I asked him if he wanted to get beers and watch some afternoon baseball. We hit a local sports bar and took our seats.

  “I gotta ask you something,” I said as we waited for our drinks.

  “What’s that?” Brett asked, munching on some pretzels the server had left and focusing his gaze on one of the televisions. The Twins were playing and had a solid lead going into the fifth inning.

  “Have you heard about someone giving Bianca grief? Getting her uninvited to things? Having her kicked out her sorority?”

  “Other than you,” Brett said, pulling the bowl of pretzels closer to him.

  I was perplexed. “Wait, no, not me. I haven’t done any of that.”

  Brett looked as perplexed as I felt. “Didn’t you say something about her staying away from Emma? That if she got close to her again, got her goons to rough her up, you’d make her pay?”

  “I might have said something like that to you, but I certainly didn’t spread it around. So I’m not sure why this keeps coming back to me.”

  Brett pinched his lips together and slowly pushed the bowl away. “So you didn’t want that to get around?”

  “No. I was just thinking out loud to you. I’d made it clear to Bianca to back off. As far as I was concerned, that was good enough.”

  Brett’s face instantly blanched. “Okay, then I think I did a bad thing. I’ve been telling people what you said. I thought you wanted me to do that.”

  I closed my eyes and tried to dull the instant headache that had just come on. “Why would you do that? I didn’t ask you do to that.”

  “I figured you wanted me to pass it around. Like a warning.”

  I suddenly felt like I was in the worst mob story ever written, but I managed to remain calm. “I need you to stop doing that. Now. Like, right now.”

  “Do you want me to try and undo it? I mean, I can tell people to cut her some slack.”

  I shook my head. “No, just stop talking about it. Eventually people will forget about it.”

  “Sorry, man, I just thought that’s what you wanted.”

  He was a good friend—he did stupid things, but a very good friend.

  The server came around with our drinks and we decided to order food. Once she was gone, I hit Brett with the other thing that was eating me up inside.

  “There’s a guy I’m worried about,” I said, taking a gulp of beer.

  “Yeah? Who?”

  “A guy from her tennis club. My gut is telling me he’s trouble.”

  “How so?” Brett asked, jumping back into the pretzels.

  “I went by to check him out. He’s a real cocky asshole. Everything about him is telling me that he’s going to make a play for Emma.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Some has-been never-was tennis player. He’s back in town and Emma’s going to be working with him. He seems the type to chase after girls he can’t have.”

  “And you know this for sure,” Brett said, finishing off the last of the pretzels.

  “After my short conversation with him, I’m certain.”

  “Get your sister to find out.”

  “Genie?”

  “Yeah. She’s superhot. She just needs to go down there and chat him up. No guy would kick your sister out of bed.” He said it so casually, like I wasn’t her twin brother or anything.

  “Uh, you’re talking about my sister.”

  “I mean no disrespect,” Brett said, his eyes growing wide. “You know I don’t mean it that way, but she’s a knockout. What guy wouldn’t be into her?”

  “So basically prostitute my sister.”

  “No, think of it as an investigative mission. She’d love doing that shit anyway.”

  For once, my best friend may have come up with a good idea.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Emma

  My last class ended early and I was happy to have my Thanksgiving break. Other than a meeting with Ben and some tennis with Helen, I’d be off to Pine Falls with Zach through the weekend. I got home and was the first one to see the thick envelope from Columbia. It was like it had eyes, following me around the room. I wanted to rip it open and find out my fate. Yes, a stupid manila envelope held my future and by the looks of it, it had to be an acceptance package. I doubted Columbia would send a lengthy fifty-page rejection.

  I distracted myself by putting clothes together. We were leaving first thing Thursday morning. Dad already had the bird picked out and for some reason, Wendy’s son was in town so he’d be along for Thanksgiving too. And when I found out Genie’s parents were in Washington for the holiday and she’d be spending the day alone, she gave up Black Friday shopping to spend a few days with us. We were going to have a full house, and I’d already bought all the groceries.

  Zach breezed through the door and didn’t even notice the envelope. He set down his school bag, pulled me into his arms and kissed me. “Six glorious days without school. I love it.”

  I pointed to the dining room table. Zach glanced over and saw it laying there. He released me and took the envelope into his hands. Without hesitation, he tore it open and after reading through its contents, he smiled.

  “I’m in.”

  “Congratulations,” I said. I wanted to be happy, but I was scared at the same time. I’d already agreed to go to New York with him, but that didn’t make the idea of it any easier.

  “It’s going to be awesome. We’ll find a great little apartment near everything. And I promise we’ll come back to Minnesota as often as possible.”

  “I know. I guess I better start sending out my college applications. I have to get my transfer sorted out too.”

  “I’ll help you out with that. It will work out.”

  He called his parents, and texted Genie. He went through a list of other people and I watched him from our dining room table, a million different thoughts going through my head. I’d decided on Smith University, which was a small college not too far from Columbia. I’d already checked and all my school credits would transfer. I’d finish up my degree, hopefully find a job and try to set some money aside. I’d already begun stalking empty storefronts all over the city wondering where I could put a New York-style deli
. I had no idea what start-up costs would be, but that was years away.

  I let Zach savor his moment and when I got ready to go to the Taylor Tennis Club, Zach was prepping for an evening out with his friends.

  “We’re going to catch a bite to eat and hit FIXX. I won’t be out late. I know you want to set off early in the morning.”

  He dropped me off at the tennis club and I went in search of Ben. He was in the spare office, the one Marc had set up for us complete with an archaic desktop and a printer circa 2005. Ben was printing and organizing when I walked in. He didn’t bother looking up.

  “I’ve made some schedules based on your availability. I’ve also designed some posters to put up around the club. Do you think you could put some up at your school?” he asked. He hadn’t officially acknowledged me yet.

  “Well, hello to you too.”

  “Right, yes, hello. About the posters.”

  “Sure, but I’m not sure it will get anybody signing up. University students aren’t exactly millionaires.”

  “I hear your boyfriend is,” he said, glancing up, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

  How did he know about Zach? “My boyfriend doesn’t need tennis lessons.”

  He smirked. “Sure, whatever.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing.” Ben was about to say something else but paused. Then he started talking again. “Your boyfriend was here yesterday.”

  “He mentioned that. I think he thought my classes ended a lot earlier than they did.”

  Ben smiled and shook his head. “Guess he covered his bases.”

  That statement caught me completely off guard. Zach had mentioned that he’d come by. Why was Ben implying there was more to it? “Do you care to explain yourself?”

  “Not really.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Smile. What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. When you go home, say hi to him.”

  Okay, something had happened. Ben had probably been his jerk self. The guy had no social graces.

  He handed me some of his printouts. “Since I’m here more than you are, I’ve been coming up with some lesson plans that include some strength training and some relaxation techniques. I’d even like to incorporate some yoga and possibly meditation.”