by Janet Albert
"It probably isn't normal and if it makes you feel any better, she's probably got good genetics and a body that rejects fat." Miranda regrouped her thoughts and asked, "When's the last time the staff up there was trained to use the automatic external defibrillator?"
"Toni did that before the first cruise and she did a review two weeks ago."
"Excellent. I also want to visit the fitness center because I'm thinking about signing up for a fitness program myself," Miranda explained. "When I started doing this, I ate way too much and gained about ten pounds, so I decided I'd better stop eating everything in sight. You've heard that old adage about coming on as passengers and leaving as cargo, haven't you? Well, I think it should also say coming on as staff and leaving as cargo."
Lynn nodded, laughing quietly. "I hear you. I had to get a grip on myself before I turned into a blimp. The buffets and dessert tables are the hardest thing for me."
"You and me both," Miranda confessed. "So I'll see you later then?"
"Yeah, see you later." Lynn went back to stocking the shelves.
Chapter Four
ON WEDNESDAY MORNING, Miranda entered the fitness center through the floor to ceiling glass doors. Without any passengers, the deserted rows of exercise machines stood at attention like a platoon of tin soldiers. Miranda knew that once the cruise got underway, they would come to life again, their sturdy motors humming incessantly like a hive of busy bees. Seeing no signs of life in the gym, she slowly approached the reception counter and waited in front of it, hoping to be noticed by someone. To pass the time, she picked up one of the pamphlets displayed on top of the counter and browsed through it.
"Can I help you?" a voice said from behind her.
Miranda's body tensed, involuntarily. I know that voice. Turning around, she instantly recognized the woman standing in front of her. "It's you," she breathed.
"Excuse me?" The woman looked momentarily confused but it didn't take long before her attractive face softened and she smiled broadly. "Hey, I remember you. I saw you on the pier. How nice to see you again."
"Jamie, right?"
"I'm pleased you remembered my name. It's Jamie Jeffries to be exact. I'm the head fitness trainer. I'm sorry, but I don't remember your name."
Without warning, Miranda's heart galloped at an alarming speed within the confines of her chest and although she tried to focus on Jamie's bright blue eyes, her own eyes wandered off without permission, traveling unescorted over the incredible landscape of Jamie's body. Michelangelo himself might have chiseled every one of her toned muscles from the finest Italian marble. Her eyes lingered on Jamie's firm thighs a bit longer than politeness allowed before skimming over a set of defined abdominal muscles. Good God. This has to be the same woman Lynn told me about. Does she have
an ounce of body fat anywhere besides in those lovely breasts? Miranda sucked in a deep breath. Breasts? Good Lord, don't let her catch you looking at her breasts.
Jamie simply stared and waited. "Are you all right?"
"Uh...sure, of course. Forgive me." Miranda cleared her throat and managed to produce a casual smile. "I'm Miranda Ross, the ship's doctor." She offered her hand, praying it wouldn't be clammy or tremulous when Jamie grasped it in her own.
"Doctor, huh? Well, well, well, Doctor. Remind me to get sick sometime," Jamie said, returning Miranda's smile.
"I sincerely hope you don't." Miranda had to make a conscious effort to suppress an unexplainable and constant urge to smile. "But, if you do, I promise I'll be there for you. That's what I'm here for." That's all I'm here for.
"That sure is comforting to know." Jamie ran her fingers through her hair. "So, Doctor Ross, what can I do for you? Whatever it is, I assure you it would be my pleasure."
Jamie's suggestive tone caused Miranda to snap back into a more professional mode. "I simply came here as a matter of protocol, to introduce myself to the person who's in charge of the fitness center and to take a look at your emergency equipment." Miranda cringed inside. She knew Jamie's type only too well and she couldn't stand that kind of woman--a smooth-talking, narcissistic, superficial, flirt. Probably not too bright either. Of course, with those looks she didn't have any need for brains.
Jamie straightened her spine and puckered her brow. "Well, that would be me and you've introduced yourself, so I guess we should take a look at the equipment. We keep the defibrillator on the wall behind the reception desk, right over there." She pointed to where it hung, secured in its plastic case. "I'll be honest with you. It scares me to death to think about using that thing."
"It scares everyone, but that little machine can save a life if it's used in the first few minutes after someone's heart stops beating." Miranda cringed as she listened to herself, hating how pompous she sounded and how much she reminded herself of one of those trained sales reps from the company that sells the damned things. She knew her crisp white officer's uniform made her seem even more pompous and intimidating.
Jamie said nothing for a moment as if she were carefully weighing her next response. "Follow me. I'll show you the first aid kit. I keep it in my office." Jamie steered the doctor into her office, unlocked a large cabinet and hauled the heavy first aid kit out onto her desk.
Miranda opened the kit, took a few minutes to rifle through its contents and then closed it up again. "That's a well-stocked one."
Jamie put it back in the cabinet and re-locked the cabinet door. "Now, I'll show you our code cart. We keep it in a storage closet in the back of the main exercise room." Jamie started walking. "We have our own code cart because we're near the pools and the outdoor running track, but I'm sure you know that."
"Of course I do, and you also have one because the fitness center is a prime place for someone to have a sudden cardiac event," Miranda said from behind her.
Jamie quickened her pace and didn't stop until she reached the closet. Then she turned and faced Miranda. "One of your nurses came up here the day before yesterday to inspect our emergency equipment. He made sure they were stocked, too. He put a lock on the code cart. Do you want me to open it?"
"That was Guy Ellison and no, I don't need you to open it. I know what's in it." Miranda told herself to loosen up. "I'm not really here for that purpose. I just wanted to see what you have, introduce myself and check out your facility."
"Well, I'd say you've accomplished your mission, Doctor. Anything else I can do for you? Anything at all?"
"I wanted to set up some fitness training sessions for myself."
"Really? What are your goals?"
"Well, to feel good for one thing. I like the way I feel when I exercise." Her recent two week vacation had thrown her off her usual exercise schedule and she needed to get back to it. "More specifically, I want to work off some of the stress of my job, increase my energy level and keep my weight in check."
"Those are all good goals." Jamie backed up a foot or two and examined Miranda's body from head to toe, one eyebrow lifted slightly higher than the other. "You don't have any problem with your weight from where I'm standing."
Jamie's shameless inspection of her body made Miranda feel embarrassed. "No, I suppose I don't, but that's the whole idea isn't it, to keep it that way? You know how much food they dish out on these cruises. I try to watch what I eat, but it's hard."
"You really do have to. I tell the passengers to make a conscious choice between buff and buffet." Jamie chuckled. "Sorry, I read that somewhere and I seem to get a constant kick out of saying it for some reason."
"It's catchy all right. I've heard a lot of adages about eating on cruises, but I've never heard that one before." Miranda listened to Jamie talk, thinking about how her soothing voice covered her like a soft, warm blanket. "Can I use it on my patients when they come in the clinic complaining about feeling sick from overeating?"
"Go ahead, I don't own it. It does stick in your mind, doesn't it?"
"Let me ask you something. Are more people using the fitness facilities, on the cruise ships I mean?" It puzzled
Miranda that she insisted on keeping this conversation going. It wasn't as if she had nothing to do and ordinarily, she'd have ended it long ago.
"Definitely. Cruise ships used to offer very little in the way of fitness. They might have had a couple of beaten-up exercise machines stuck off in a remote corner of the ship or a few free weights lying around on a cracked and worn mat, but nothing like what they have now. The newer ships offer fitness amenities equal to and often better than the finest land-based gyms. Exercise has become another form of recreation for a lot of people."
"You know, you're right. I never thought of it that way."
"This current fitness obsession has been a real boon for our industry."
"I've noticed the food's changing, too. They're offering healthier options on the ships these days and more spa style cuisine."
"Not everyone goes cruising to pig out." Jamie cleared her throat. "They even have fitness cruises these days"
"I read about them. The new spa restaurant on this ship is really good. I went there with the nurses last evening for dinner. Have you tried it?"
"It's my favorite place to eat on the ship." Jamie paused for a moment, then said, "You said one of your goals was to work off stress. Do you find your job stressful? I thought it might be easier than a regular doctor's job, more like a vacation."
"That's what everyone thinks," Miranda explained. "In some ways it's easier, I guess, but on a ship with only one doctor, I'm always on duty and always on call unless I leave the ship and then when I come back, I never know what's waiting for me. Wherever I go, my uniform and the bar pattern on these shoulder epaulettes lets everyone know I'm the ship's doctor. I carry a phone, a pager and a walkie-talkie and I can't hide from the fact that someone might need me at any time. Sometimes I feel like the whole world needs me and it can be quite draining."
"I see what you mean. You're never really free, are you?"
"No, not totally. I can't ever let my guard down. Don't get me wrong, I do have free time, as long as nothing happens. It's just that there's always a chance something bad is going to happen any minute and it hangs over me like a bad omen and wears on me. I think most of the stress I feel is a result of being mentally tied to the job every minute of every day."
"That's tough. There's not much you can do about that, but can you at least get off the ship once in a while so you don't go totally insane?"
"I'm allowed to go ashore just like everyone else. The nurses always take first call and I got lucky on this ship, because I have a nurse practitioner. She's perfectly capable of running the clinic alone and she can cover for me if I want to leave the ship. I have to go somewhere different once in a while or I start to get stir crazy."
"I know the feeling--it's like cabin fever. If I didn't go ashore once in a while, I'd start to feel like my entire life was taking place in this fitness center. At least I work on the top deck surrounded by windows and I can see the outside. I swear I'd go nuts if I worked in the engine room or anywhere deep in the interior of the ship."
"Like the infirmary. It's too closed in for me."
"That answers the question about stress. Coming up here and exercising will definitely help with that. You'll probably find you sleep better, too."
"I've never had a problem sleeping. All my years of medical training conditioned me to sleep anytime and almost anywhere."
"At least that's one problem you don't have." Again, Jamie paused for a moment before she continued. "Why don't you let me be your personal trainer? I'm usually pretty booked up, but I'd love to work with you and I'm sure we can find the time somehow." She waited for Miranda to answer.
"Why not?" Miranda agreed at last. "But, if you're too busy to train me yourself, it doesn't have to be you. I don't really care who does it--anyone will do." Keep this strictly professional. Don't let her think you want to train with her.
"I'm not too busy and I'd like to work with you." She looked Miranda up and down once again. "It won't be hard keeping you in shape, honey. It makes my job a lot easier when I get to start with a nice body like yours. You're practically there already."
Honey? Nice body? Christ, she really is smooth. "Thanks, I guess," Miranda said, barely able to hide the anger that had started to pick and scratch beneath her surface. If Jamie Jeffries was a lesbian like Miranda suspected, she'd probably slept with half the lesbian employees by now and God knows how many of the passengers. From the looks of her she could have her pick. She pictured a flock of women hovering around Jamie like hungry buzzards circling their next meal and it made her smile to herself. Miranda wasn't into hovering. So far, she'd managed to avoid casual sex and shipboard romances and she intended to keep it that way. More to the point, she didn't trust women like Jamie Jeffries. Not anymore. "I work out because it makes me feel energized and exhilarated and it helps me to stay in shape. The physical benefits are certainly a plus but they're just icing on the cake as far as I'm concerned."
"Your cake is beautifully iced," Jamie remarked. "That state of euphoria comes from the release of endorphins, but since you're a doctor, you already know that, don't you?"
Miranda simply nodded. "I'd better get going."
"Wait. Don't run off quite yet. I'll need to do a total body assessment so I can plan the best exercise program to meet your individual needs. Do you think you can come in sometime soon so I can do that?"
"Yes, but I don't know when, yet. I have to wait until things settle down. Hopefully, I can come back in a couple of days if I'm not too busy."
"Sure. Whenever you're ready, come in and we'll schedule it. Or you can call me."
"I guess I'll see you later, then." Miranda spun around on her heels, ending any further discussion on the matter, but two steps later, she turned around again. Jamie's words had just registered in her brain and the prospect of Ms. Perfect assessing her body didn't seem like her idea of a good time. No doubt she'd find nothing but flaws. "Wait just a minute, what kind of body assessment?"
"My clients often have reservations about that part of the process, but it's nothing bad I assure you. We'll get body measurements, your height and weight and a quick estimate of your body fat percentage. I'm already thinking that, in your case, we'll be focusing mainly on firming and aerobic conditioning, right?"
"That sounds right, but do we have to do all that?" Body fat percentage? Great. It looked like Ms. Jamie Jeffries had just enough body fat hiding under that skin of hers to keep her from freezing to death in the winter and it had better not be that cold, either.
"It'll help me find out the areas that need special attention. It'll also give us a baseline so we can evaluate your progress. We won't know if you lose weight or inches unless we compare measurements. You'll feel a difference in your body, of course, but wouldn't it be nice to see it on paper, in black and white?"
"I suppose," Miranda agreed, not convinced that she needed to see anything like that in black and white, especially her actual dimensions.
"I'll also assess you on the weight machines so I can determine how much weight you should use and how many reps you should do to build muscle mass. Everything will be strictly confidential. Think of me as your fitness doctor."
Fitness doctor. That's a good one. Evidently, I'm not the only one on board with a bedside manner. From the looks of it, Jamie had mastered the art of gentle persuasion and knew how to smooth ruffled feathers and gain the confidence of her clients. She was slick, all right, but she also made a lot of sense. Miranda couldn't take the best care of her patients without doing a history and physical health assessment, so she knew the value of obtaining baseline information. "Okay, if you feel it's necessary. I'm in your hands."
"I promise I'll make it as painless as possible."
"I have used the weight machines before, you know."
"I'm sure you have, but has anyone ever showed you how to use them properly?"
"No, I just read the directions on the machines."
"Well then, indulge me, will you? I want to make sure you're u
sing them safely and effectively. You don't need to waste your time and you don't need to get injured."
"I suppose you're right. I never had a personal trainer."
"Well, it's time you did. I can help you with diet too, if you have any questions. I'm a certified nutrition counselor." Quickly, she added, "I realize you're a doctor, but some doctors aren't all that interested in nutrition and they don't know how to tie it into a fitness program."
"I'm afraid you're right, in my case. I'm an emergency room doctor, so I don't have to pay that much attention to nutrition in most of the patients I treat. I wouldn't claim to be an expert on the subject, either. It wasn't one of my favorites."
"It bores most people to tears but I enjoyed it when I took it in college."
"You went to college for this?" Miranda blurted out. As if the actual question hadn't been bad enough, she realized she'd let too much surprise register in her voice. Her face began to burn. "I didn't mean that to sound the way it probably did. I have no idea what kind of education is required in your field."
Jamie laughed. Tapping her head and her chest in that order, she said, "I'm sure someone like you would automatically think I don't have much upstairs or inside here. I'm all too familiar with the stereotype. We're all a bunch of self-centered bubble heads, obsessed with our bodies and only concerned with how we look. Does that about cover it? I didn't leave anything out, did I?"
Miranda's face burned even hotter. "I never thought that about you, honestly."
"Sure you did, but don't feel bad. You're not the first one to make that mistake. A lot of fitness trainers are like that and not all of them go to college, either. As for me, I have a bachelor's degree in exercise science and a master's degree in exercise physiology. And, just for the record, I'm also certified by the American Council on Exercise, the National Endurance and Strength Association and the International Sports Science Association."
"And I'm obviously a certified idiot." Miranda squirmed, searching for a way out of the deep hole she'd dug for herself. "I'm so sorry. I know nothing about your field and I didn't mean to imply that--I mean I had no right to assume--what I mean to say is, I see you're not..." She'd put her foot in her mouth and now she was in danger of losing her entire leg.
