The two of them give me their congratulations and claps on the back—all that stuff that goes with finding out someone is having a kid. The whole time I’m accepting their praise, I’m wondering if I’ve been acting loopy lately too. I’d ask Abel, but he’d take the opportunity to give me shit.
“Listen,” Nicolas says, as if he just read my mind and my concerns. “So far, you haven’t tried to show us a baby picture, nor are you glued to your phone searching up baby gear while holding a half-ass conversation, so as of now, you’re doing way better than Carlos is.”
Wait... baby gear? Do I need to start looking up baby gear? Oh shit. I thought I had a few months. Am I supposed to start ordering it early? Does Rosalind know where to find whatever baby gear even is?
I push my pending panic attack away. There won’t be any purchasing of anything for any child if I can’t bring in some new clients. Back to small talk it is.
Guiding them upstairs to show them our yoga and Pilates room because hey, they may need some vinyasa after a hard day of protecting the stars, I keep the banter going. “Since Carlos is a regular here, I guess he’s the one who recommended us?”
“Sort of. The gym at our office flooded, so we need somewhere to work out while it gets renovated.”
I stop and turn to stare at them both. Having just gotten back in our facility recently, I know firsthand the nightmare a complete renovation can be when you’re trying to keep working. “Oh shit. The whole gym? Equipment, flooring everything?”
“The whole thing,” Nicolas says, exaggerating his words for effect. “Thank God it was contained to the gym only. The boss man was in a rage when he found the mess at something ridiculous like five in the morning, but then the plumber came in and found the source of the problem. It was an unfortunate incident with a clogged toilet that somehow led to a massive pipe burst.”
I grimace. I don’t even want to know how a bunch of shit ended up busting a pipe open. It’s no wonder the place has to be gutted. No one wants to work out in a place that smells like a sewer. Men’s locker rooms smell bad enough as it is.
“I told them the plumbing wasn’t designed to handle that many of us in one office. Water-saving toilets don’t work on man-sized shit,” Stan finally adds. “I warned but no one listened.”
Nicolas rolls his eyes. “People need to be going home to take a shit. Not using the office facilities.”
“Not gonna happen,” Stan argues with a shake of his head. “Not with the amount of coffee we drink. And I’m not driving home to take a dump when I’m in the middle of working a case. If nature calls, I’m answering.”
“Working a case?” I interrupt, not that they’re paying much attention to my tour anyway. We seem to be getting off track a lot today. Eh. It’s fine. It’s not like they need to know how to work the equipment anyway. “I thought you guys worked at Cipher Systems with Carlos.”
They look at each other and smirk before one of them says, “We do. In security.”
“No shit. I figured that part out already. But you downplay it like you drive a golf cart around the mall, never leaving the premises. I call bullshit.”
Nicolas chuckles. “My Mercedes isn’t a golf cart, that’s for damn sure. No, it’s high-end security which almost always requires extra effort and investigation.”
My eyes widen in excitement. Now we’re getting to the good stuff. I wonder if they know Demi Lovato. She’s hot. “Like for celebs and stuff, right?”
“And stuff. Not so much celebrities.”
Well, that’s a disappointment.
“So, you can see why we don’t have the luxury of getting lazy and taking time off from hitting the weights.”
“For sure,” I agree and turn back to the room, gesturing to top-of-the-line equipment we boast. “As you can see, we’re fully stocked with all the basics. Free weights, machines, treadmills, we even have a track that goes around the perimeter of the building.”
“Nice,” Stan remarks. “I hate treadmills, but it’s almost too cold to run outside.”
Nicolas punches him in the shoulder in response. “Wimp. The chill is good for the lungs, man.”
“Speak for yourself. I know you hated the heat in Arizona, but I could go for a little Southern weather when the snow starts falling around here,” Stan retorts. “Besides, I’d hate to waste office money by not using the facilities, since they’re paying our membership fees. In fact”—he looks over the edge, the noise from Tabitha’s blender catching his attention—“I’m gonna charge one of those smoothies to my account. They look really good.”
“Ooooh, boy.” Nicolas laughs. “Carlos will be so pissed when he sees that.”
“Carlos won’t notice because he’s distracted with everything baby Evelyn Rose Davies.”
“Can’t say I blame him. That baby is pretty damn cute. But forget that. You may be onto something. Suddenly, I’m feeling a little faint. I think I might need to get some sustenance in me.” Nicolas pats his flat abs, a conspiratorial grin on his face.
“Tabitha makes the best smoothies. That’s not me bragging.” I hold my hands up defensively. “If I didn’t work here, I’d still come in at lunch to get one.”
Nicolas shakes his head, like I just reminded him of something important. “Oh man, I haven’t had lunch yet either. That would hit the spot.”
“Come on. I’ll introduce you to her.”
We make our way back down the stairs, chatting about nothing and everything related to weights, smoothies, and even the Strongman I’m training for. I’m beginning to like these guys a lot. Even if they don’t become clients, they’re going to be some fun members to have around. It’s also going to be entertaining watching how many of our gym rats fall all over themselves trying to get their attention. My money says Bambi finally stumbles off that treadmill at least once.
Abel has already left the counter by the time we get there, but Tabitha is hard at work as usual. She’s on her computer, so I guess she’s done with inventory and is ordering supplies or something. She’s deep in concentration, dark curly hair pulled high up on her head, and the purse of her lips means she isn’t too happy with whatever she’s seeing. Lucky for her, I’m about to make her day a little bit brighter.
“Tabitha, I’d like to introduce you to some of our newest members.”
She slowly tears her eyes away from the screen, lids heavy like they always are when she’s concentrating. I sense her interest the second her eyes finally make contact with my new friends because she freezes. Well, except for her eyebrows, which make minuscule movement in the upward direction. I’m sure they don’t see it, but I do. I know Tabitha well enough to know that she is already looking forward to their daily trips to her bar.
“Welcome, gentlemen.” Tabitha puts her hand out to shake theirs, which is weird because she never does that. I guess that’s as close as she can come to copping a feel. In her defense, I wouldn’t mind getting a hand on those rock-hard guns either. They are that impressive. “Are you new here or just looking around?”
Nicolas jumps right in, smart enough to know flirting with the smoothie lady could work to his benefit. “It’s our first day, but Joey here has been singing your praises. Thought we’d come over and try one of your famous drinks.”
She flashes him a flirty smirk. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. A man of your”—she doesn’t even try to hide that she gives him the once-over—“physique would probably enjoy an Ultra Protein Banana Mint Shake.”
“I’ll take whatever you want to give me,” he says with his own playful grin.
“Oh Jesus,” Stan grumbles, and I know there’s a story there, but it’s their first day. I’ll pry later.
I’ve got other things to worry about—like making these guys my new regular clients and making it to my next appointment on time.
Chapter Twelve
ROSALIND
Flipping through the stupid pregnancy-slash-motherhood magazine in my hands, I’m getting more and more irritated. I’
d blame hormones, but this time I’m actually justified in my anger.
It’s our first real ultrasound since the blob turned into more of a human and Joey’s late. Not just a few minutes, but really late. At first, I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but then I waited in an uncomfortable chair in the lobby for thirty-five minutes before having to pee in a cup and change into a paper gown, just so I could sit on more paper in a freezing cold exam room waiting for another thirty-five minutes. Still no doctor and no Joey.
I get it. The doctor had an emergency delivery or something. But geez, are all babies so inconsiderate with other people’s time when they decide to be born?
“Listen, I know you’re a little baby and you don’t know better yet,” I say to my ever-expanding stomach, “but I swear I will make your father feed you his cooking when you get teeth if you pull this shit on me. Okay? Let’s find a time that works and stick to it.”
A small nudge in my belly is the response. Good thing it’s still little. I’m almost positive it was aiming for my ribs.
Sighing out of boredom and annoyance, I toss the magazine onto the counter. It immediately slides to the floor. Typical.
I know I shouldn’t be angry. Things happen and Joey probably has a good explanation for being late and not letting me know. But being mad feels better than the emotion I’m trying to ignore—sadness.
There, I said it. I’m sad. Sad that this is probably not the only time I’ll have to do something important like this on my own. Because as much as Joey is making a massive effort to have us do this together, and really he’s pulling out all the stops, as long as we’re not a couple, we’re still just two single parents who work really well together. And that makes me sad.
Having kids wasn’t on my radar yet, but I always knew eventually I’d want a family. I just wanted to fall in love with an amazing guy and run away to elope to my mother’s chagrin before having them. Instead, my mother seems delighted and the one person who could be the man of my dreams doesn’t seem anywhere close to thinking of me as more than just a friend.
The door suddenly flies open and, for a split second, I feel relief that maybe my appointment is about to begin and I can pull out of my pity party. But no. It’s my baby daddy-slash-current frontrunner on my shit list. He’s out of breath and has clearly been rushing to get here.
I narrow my eyes, pushing the sadness back down and allowing my self-protection to kick in. I’m in no mood to be melancholy or complacent. It’s our first appointment together. They better not all be like this. “You’re late.”
“I’m sorry,” he says still out of breath. “I was signing up two clients for a brand-new program I was just given the go-ahead to teach.”
“And that’s more important that this appointment?”
“No. But we need the money for diapers, so I got done as fast as I could before Abel could snatch them away and took all the revenue for himself.”
I scoff. “Abel wouldn’t do that.”
One of Joey’s eyebrows lifts like that is a ridiculous notion. “You obviously don’t know your cousin very well. He’s my best friend, but we also have a love-hate relationship when it comes to clients. We love to hate each other for having them. And we hate to love each other when we’re successful. But trust me, these guys I signed… you are going to love them. They are so ripped, even I kind of want to jump them.”
I blink rapidly, making sure I heard him correctly before responding. “That is the weirdest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Weirder than when I told you about the time Frank was schooling us in the locker room on proper self-pleasuring?”
“Okay, maybe a close second.”
“I will agree with that.”
I sigh and try to focus on the fact that he didn’t forget me or this appointment. He was trying to pull in money to provide for our child. As much as I hate to admit it, it’s admirable that everything he does is with the baby in mind. Besides, the doctor is way later than him, so he hasn’t missed anything important.
Conceding the point and letting go of my irritation, I lean back on my hands to try and stretch out my back. “Fine. You’re forgiven for being late. Tell me about these new clients you’re so excited about.”
Joey pulls up a chair closer to the table and makes himself comfortable. “Seriously. They’re these high-end security guys. They’re huge. Bigger than me.”
High-end security? And buff? Now he has my attention. Joey is an impressive specimen of a man. My dreams don’t ever let me forget it. But if these guys are even bigger than him, that’s… wow. Again, I’d blame the hormones, but really, I’m just a hot-blooded American woman.
“I was talking to them about Strongman,” Joey continues, either not seeing the sudden interest on my face, or just ignoring it, “and they want to train with me two days a week. Not to compete or anything, just with the different kinds of exercises. So, we talked to Keely…”
“Wait… we? All three of you talked to Keely? Our head honcho, big boss Keely?”
He shrugs like it’s a given. “How else do you pressure your gym manager into letting you start a brand-new training program completely different than any other class we have, than to bring the paying customers with you? I already told you they’re hot. How could she say no?”
Sadly, he has a very good point.
“So anyway, she agreed to let us do the class as sort of a trial run. Promote it a little and see how it goes. If we get more interest, or maybe get some of their co-worker friends to join us, it might become a permanent part of our program.”
“That is…” I pause to get my thoughts straight. “…pretty cool, actually. To come up with a class idea spur of the moment and get it approved on a trial basis so fast. You think they’ll get their friends to sign up, too?"
Joey’s eyes light up as he tells me more about some toilet incident, which is why the gym is suddenly being overrun by extra hot men with extra-large muscles. The only part I really hear is that there are lots of potential clients and lots of potential income.
I wasn’t stressing about money before I got here. Since my insurance doesn’t kick in until I’ve been working for two months after my start date, today’s visit is all out of pocket, though, and when I had to hand over my credit card, that’s when my concern began. I have no idea how much money an ultrasound is going to cost, but I can guarantee it won’t be cheap.
But these new clients might help with some of the upcoming bills. Even better, maybe a bunch of buff men have wives and girlfriends who might be interested in a pole class in a few months.
What I haven’t told Joey yet, or anyone because it feels a little too personal, is that I’ve started researching how to become a certified fitness trainer and get a pole fitness certification so I can have all the qualifications I need to start my own class. I don’t want to walk into Keely’s office and pitch the idea of a class like this with nothing to back it up. I know stereotypes can make it a hard sell to begin with. I want Keely to view me as a true expert in the pole fitness arena and see the value I can bring to the gym and our clients.
First things first, though, I need to get my GED so I can even start the training. Once again, that requires money.
Before Joey realizes I’m off in my own little world, the door opens again and Dr. Walters walks in sporting a huge smile. I glance at the clock next to the sink, leaning up against the wall.
An hour and fifteen minutes late. The man is an hour and fifteen minutes late and is smiling like half my afternoon and my freshly shaved legs weren’t ruined by sitting in this freezing room for so long.
“Hello! How are we feeling today?” He begins the process of washing his hands, completely oblivious to the daggers I’m staring at him.
Before I can answer with a snarky remark about teaching children early in life how to have some consideration for others, Joey jumps right in with, “We’re great! Can’t wait to see our little baby.”
“You’re what, fifteen weeks
or so now, Rosalind?”
I nod. “Sixteen weeks, three days.”
“Good, good.” Dr. Walters grabs a paper towel to wipe his hands off and grabs my chart to flip through it. “Any nausea?”
I shake my head. “Not anymore.”
“Spotting?” Another shake. “Both of those things are normal, so just let me know if they come up. In the meantime, your blood pressure looks good, and your weight gain is on track. Okay, let’s lie you down and have a look.”
We go over some more random questions and he measures my pooch, which isn’t painful, but brings home the point that I’m never going to get my figure back the way it used to be. It sucks, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.
“Okay,” Dr. Walters finally says with yet another huge smile. Seriously. Does the man ever frown? “Who’s ready to see their baby?”
“Yes! We’re ready!”
Of course, Joey is. Me? I’m nervous as shit. I’d never admit it to either of them but up until now I’ve just been pregnant. Suddenly, I’m having a baby. It’s the same thing, and yet it feels totally different. It’s hard for me to digest this change in thought process.
The lights dim and Dr. Walters rolls the ultrasound machine toward the exam table. My gown goes up, my pants slide a bit as another paper cover is tucked in low, and some warm gel is squirted on my lower abdomen. Joey grabs my hand, I suspect more for his sake than mine, and we wait for the wand to rub all over me and show us what’s hiding inside.
We hear it before we see it. The steady thrum of a heartbeat.
“A hundred thirty beats per minute, which is right where it needs to be,” Dr. Walters says absentmindedly as he studies the screen, slowly moving the wand to find what he’s looking for. “And there… is… your… baby.”
Sure enough, the screen changes from random gray and white colors to a very distinct circular shape. And that bubble is very obviously a tiny human being.
“Holy shit,” Joey breathes, expressing my thoughts exactly.
Weights of Wrath (Cipher Office Book 4) Page 10
