by Saba Kapur
I shot up from the exercise ball, stumbling a little as I regained my balance. Shoot! Jack couldn’t walk in on me in a gym not doing anything! He probably dated supermodels in his spare time, supermodels that go on the elliptical machine for fun!
I did some quick thinking and ran my fingers through my hair, trying to add volume to the top. The footsteps were coming closer and I was running out of time. I practically ripped my jacket off me, revealing the spandex crop top and body-hugging tights I had on underneath. I had bought the work-out clothes almost a year ago when the girls and I decided we were going to get into shape, eat our veggies and do more squats. Only Aria really stuck to that promise, but even she gave up after a few weeks. If I was going to pretend that I was a health-goddess with Jack in the house, then I needed to look like one. The spandex had really made the most sense at the time, even if it didn’t exactly fit right anymore.
“Hey,” Jack said, padding into the gym.
I kicked the jacket to one side, leaning against the treadmill as seductively as I could.
“’Sup?” I said casually, giving him a nod of acknowledgment.
He looked around the gym, nodding in what I hoped was appreciation. I mean, I don’t even like working out and I’ll be the first to admit that having a gym as awesome as ours in your own home is pretty damn fantastic. The surround sound alone is reason enough to hang out in there.
“Nice,” he said, looking at the many flat screen TVs across the walls. I could only hope I was included in that assessment.
I smoothed my hair down a little from the ends, suddenly very conscious of my crop top and super tight pants. The aim was to look sexy, but I was pretty sure I just looked like an idiot stuffed in clothes too small for her.
“Did you need something?” I asked, reaching for my water bottle. I heaved a deep sigh, like I had been working my butt off and had only stopped because of his interruption.
“Your dad wants to know when you’re going to stop pretending to work out,” Jack said, and I practically spat the water out of my mouth in embarrassment.
I forced it down and said, “Excuse me?”
“His words, not mine.”
I put the water bottle down on the floor next to me, hoping the tight pants would hug all the right places as I was bending.
“I’m not pretending,” I snapped. “I just burnt off like, all of my calories for today on the treadmill.”
Jack’s gaze diverted to the treadmill, and I shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another. “It’s not even on,” he said.
“I just turned it off.”
Jack looked at me, and I raised my eyebrows. “It’s not even plugged in.”
Whoops. Why did I have to go with the treadmill? There was enough gym equipment in there to stock a nation, and I chose the one thing that wasn’t freaking plugged in.
“What are you, the treadmill police?” I asked. “What do you want?”
“I don’t want anything. Your dad wa—”
“Yeah,” I interrupted. “But why’d he send you to ask? What are you, his new messenger boy?”
Jack gave a small smile and said, “Actually, he sent Mike. But I don’t think your brother was paying attention. And I was bored, so I figured I may as well check out the gym.”
If he wanted to check me out while he was it, I had no issues with that.
“Well,” I said, putting my hands on my hips. “All checked out. You can go now.”
I was suddenly becoming desperate for an opportunity to put the jacket back on and fix my hair. Jack hadn’t hit on me once, so I clearly wasn’t pulling off the fitness guru look I had been aiming for.
“Woah,” Jack said, walking toward a piece of large equipment that had all these weights and handles and scary looking things all over it. “This is pretty heavy duty stuff. Who uses it?”
“My dad, mostly. Although not so much anymore,” I replied, watching a clearly impressed Jack inspect the equipment. “And when he wants to impress his friends, Mike will use it sometimes.”
Jack looked up at me. “And you of course,” he said, his lips curving into a smile.
“Right,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “I use that all the time.”
“Yo, sis!” I heard Mike say from behind me. I looked over at him, just as he walked into the room. “Dad wants to know when you’re gonna stop pr—”
“I got it!”
Jeez. Dad was majorly salting my game here. Mike looked at me, my tight as hell outfit, Jack’s face, and then back at me.
“Am I interrupting?” he said, and I narrowed my eyes at him as aggressively as I could.
“No!”
“Just asking,” he replied, clearly pleased with himself.
Jack came up from behind and stood next to me. I could feel him glance at me but I didn’t do the same. There was no way I was looking at him directly in the eye while standing that close to him. The crop top was definitely a bad idea. Hindsight is always twenty-twenty.
“What are you even doing in here, anyway?” Mike asked. “You never work out.”
“That’s not true!” I snapped defensively. “I exercise all the time.”
“You only come in here to sit on the exercise ball,” Mike replied, giving me a knowing look.
“Excuse me?” I exclaimed, deeply offended. “I use a bunch of stuff in the gym.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
Reflexively, I looked at Jack, as if he could offer some help. He just looked back at me blankly, waiting for me to answer.
“The . . . bench press thing,” I finally said, turning back to my brother.
Mike gave a bark of laughter. “Do you even know what that looks like?”
“I know that if I pick up one of these dumbbells and throw it at you, it would probably do some serious damage,” I said, smiling sweetly. “How’s that for gym knowledge?”
“Oh please,” Mike replied. “You can’t even pick one of these up, let alone throw one at me.”
“You really wanna test that theory?”
Jack gave a quiet laugh next to me, and I realized how childish I was coming across. Not at all the poised supermodel I had planned to be. But spend a minute with my brother, and you’ll understand. He just brings out the violent side in everyone.
“Whatever,” Mike said, turning to leave.
“Oh, and Mike?” I said, just as he made it to the door. “If you prank call me one more time, so help me, I will shove my foot so far down your throat tha—”
“Oh my God!” Mike groaned, spinning around to face me. “For the last time, Gia. It’s not me!”
I scoffed. “Yeah right!”
Mike gave a frustrated sigh and said, “I don’t need a phone to piss you off, Gia. I live with you! If I really want to get on your nerves, I’d just break into your closet and throw your shoes all over the floor.”
My jaw dropped in sudden realization. “I knew that wasn’t a raccoon!” I cried, practically launching myself at Mike.
“Woah, woah!” Jack said, stepping in. “Calm down!”
He extended his arm out, using it as a kind of barricade between Mike and I, just as I lurched forward. I slammed right into his arm, immediately becoming rigid when my bare skin came into contact with his. Stupid, stupid crop top! What the hell was I thinking? Mike, in the meantime, had taken the opportunity to walk out of the gym and leave me to make a fool of myself in front of Jack. I took an almost hilariously giant step back, regaining my composure and trying to stop my cheeks from burning up.
“I’m going to kill him,” I mumbled. Jack gave a small headshake.
“What’s this about prank calls?” he asked.
“Ugh! It’s just my brother has decided that his new favorite hobby is creeping me out over the phone!”
“Creeping you out?” Jack repeated. “How?”
“Super cliché,” I replied. “Heavy breathing, occasionally whispering my name. Sometimes it sounds like he’s talking to someone else on the phone. Maybe it’s his friend Josh. That kid is such a perv, I swear.”
“Okay, woah, slow down,” Jack said. “Describe these conversations to me.”
I sighed, as if talking was such an effort. “The phone will ring, I’ll pick it up and I’ll say hello. It’ll be silent for a few seconds and then randomly people will start talking about stuff that doesn’t even make sense. Then I usually just hang up.”
“What do they say?”
“Weird stuff. Once, it was two guys yelling at each other. One kept going on and on about how the other one was meant to have his back, or something. Another time, it was like a whole freaking monologue on life! Like, what the hell? It was so messed up.”
Jack gave me a confused look. “What? That doesn’t make any sense.”
I nodded and said, “Told you. Although sometimes I think they sound kind of familiar.”
“The voices?”
“Yeah. That’s why I think it’s Mike, he’s pretty good at accents. But mostly it just sounds like someone’s watching a movie and they forgot to turn it down when they called.”
“When was the last time you got one of these calls?” Jack asked me.
“Maybe an hour ago?” I replied, shrugging.
“Does it come up with a number?”
“Um, it’s a prank call. They’re not going to put their number on there so I can call back!”
He was hot, but he wasn’t very smart, clearly.
“How long have you been getting these calls?” Jack asked, and I tapped my foot impatiently.
“I don’t know, a week? Are we done with the interrogation, Sherlock?”
“Gia,” Jack said, giving me a serious look. “Did you ever consider that maybe the phone calls have something to do with those texts you got a couple of days ago?”
I stared at him. What? I had been so caught up with everything else; I had forgotten about the messages.
I shook my head and said, “Jack, this is all just some lame joke. There’s no conspiracy here. Sorry to disappoint you.”
“But it makes sense, doesn’t it? What I’m saying?” Jack replied.
It did, kind of. But there was no way I was telling him that.
“No.”
“Gia.”
“Whatever, Jack!” I exclaimed. I was getting really tired of talking about the whole thing. “Obviously Mike has nothing better to do right now, but he’ll get bored eventually and it’ll stop.”
“Alright,” Jack said. He was clearly not pleased, but he knew there was no way to prove it was something bigger. The scoreboard was finally giving me something to celebrate.
But then it hit me. I wasn’t wrong about the random conversations. In fact, I was exactly right. They weren’t random at all; they were dialogues from movies. My dad’s movies, to be exact. No wonder they sounded so familiar!
“What?” Jack said, and I realized my face had probably given away my epiphany.
“Nothing,” I replied, looking at the floor inconspicuously.
Telling Jack about the movie dialogues was a terrible idea. It made it seem a lot worse than it probably was, and I didn’t need Jack giving me another lecture or questionnaire.
“Gia, you’re not fooling anyone,” Jack said, and I looked up at him with a glare. “Just tell me.”
“Fine! The conversations are dialogues from my dad’s movies! Whoever it is, they play random parts of the movies to me. There! Are you happy?”
Boy, I didn’t last one second under that pressure. I would be the worst in hostage situations where they needed me to divulge secrets. I’d give them everything they wanted before they even finished asking.
Jack looked at me, expressionless. It was so hard to tell what he was thinking. He was always a question mark. “Still think this is just some stupid game your brother’s playing?” he asked, challenging me to say yes.
I knew he had a point, but there was no way I was going to give him the satisfaction. Besides, if it wasn’t my brother, then there really was some random out there harassing me. Not exactly something that helps you sleep peacefully at night. So I did the mature thing, and completely denied everything.
“Look, forget it,” I declared. “I’m over all of this. Let’s just forget the whole thing and move on, okay?”
I turned my back to him, giving another sigh. The conversation was never ending, and I was struggling to keep it together in that much spandex. How the hell does Spiderman swing from buildings and save lives in that material? I can barely waddle in it.
“I have a proposal,” Jack said from behind me, after only a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.
I stiffened. A proposal? Like a legit proposal! Sure it was a bit soon, and I didn’t particularly like Jack, but he was hot as hell. And if he had a nice ring I wasn’t going to say no. Hell if he had a crappy ring, I’d still probably say yes. I’d just have to break the news to Brendan later. He’d understand. Maybe.
“Um . . .” I spun on my heel hesitantly, turning to face Jack’s extremely serious face.
“Look, it’s pretty obvious that, for whatever reason, you don’t like me very much,” Jack said. “But I know this isn’t really about me. I’m not really the problem here.”
Okay, so no ring. His proposal was clearly not going down how I thought it would.
“What are you trying to say?” I asked him, putting my hands on my hips.
“I’m willing to help you investigate this whole prank call thing and figure out who’s behind it,” Jack said, his tone sounding very business-like. “But, you need to accept the fact that I’m not going anywhere. You can hate me all you want, but I’m still going to be around.”
“What if I don’t want to know who’s behind it? What then?”
“I think we both know that’s a lie. And you don’t have the ability to find out who it is by yourself.”
“But you do?”
Jack shrugged. “I could definitely help. Plus, you’ve got that Golden Globes thing you’re so excited about. You don’t want to ruin that, do you?”
I raised an eyebrow. “How do you know about that?”
“Gia, I live with you remember? It’s all you’ve been talking about for the past few days.”
I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously. “Let’s say I, hypothetically, take you up on this offer. What do I have to do?”
“Drop the act,” Jack said simply.
“Come again?”
“Oh come on, Gia,” Jack replied. “You can’t honestly hate me this much for no reason. You don’t even know me! This is probably just to get back at your dad for something.”
I stared at him silently for a few seconds. Alright, so he had caught me. I mean, it wasn’t like it was a huge secret or anything. But I wasn’t exactly expecting him to just blatantly state it like that.
“Well what’s in it for you?” I asked, deciding it was a good idea to ignore his very valid points and swiftly move on.
Jack’s expression remained completely serious. “The sooner we figure out who’s doing this, the sooner you’re out of danger. Which also means I’m no longer needed. So I go back to New York, your life goes back to normal, and everyone’s happy. It’s a win-win from where I’m standing.”
I hoped I also looked like a Victoria’s Secret model from where he was standing. I took a deep breath, majorly unhappy with where this was headed. He did have a point. As much as I would miss his overwhelmingly attractive good looks, having Jack out of my life would bring back a lot of peace to my world. And he was right. Now that I was up for the role of Miss Golden Globe, I couldn’t afford for anything to go wrong and ruin my chances. I wasn’t about to let some weirdo with far too much free time get in the wa
y of me handing Bradley Cooper a trophy.
“So you’ll help me catch this creep, and all I need to do is be nicer to you?”
“Pretty much.”
“You know, I could just fire you and all our problems would end.”
Jack shook his head and said, “Actually you can’t fire me. I technically work for your dad and not directly for you.”
I did some mental reasoning, weighing up the pros and cons. Being nice to Jack was going to be tough, but it would lead to a lot of my problems beings solved.
Against my better judgment, I finally sighed and gave a reluctant nod. “Fine.”
The corners of Jack’s lips twitched as if they were going to curve up, but didn’t quite get there. He extended his hand toward me so that I could shake it.
“Deal?” he said.
I looked at his hand uncertainly, and the back at him. The hostility was my only defense mechanism! I was practically signing over my one weapon to my enemy. Unfortunately for me, I needed Jack’s help, and his offer worked out pretty well in my favor.
I put my hand in his and shook it firmly. “Deal.”
“Great,” Jack said, our hands still holding one another.
“Just so you know, this doesn’t make us besties.”
“Got it.”
“And my rules still apply.”
“I figured as much.”
My gaze dropped to our hands, and suddenly the electric currents started shooting through my body again. I yanked my hand out of his placed it behind my back, where it wouldn’t be tempted to try and rip off Jack’s shirt.
“Alright, no need to get emotional,” I said.
Jack’s grin reappeared as he walked toward the door. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Miss Winters.”
I watched him walk out without saying a word. The moment I heard the soles of his shoes hit the stairs, I exhaled deeply, slapping my palm to my forehead. Jack seemed to have taken all the air out of the room when he walked out. The stupid spandex was killing me, and my pants were so tight I was scared Anya would need to cut them off me.
I had absolutely no clue who was behind all the phone calls and the texts. Maybe they were they same person, maybe not. One thing was for sure, though. I had just made a deal with the devil.
