Ignite Me (The Annihilate Me Series)

by Ross, Christina

  “You really are awful, you know?” Jennifer said. “When I first came to New York, Century 21 was a lifesaver for me. And also for Lisa. You wouldn’t believe the things we found there. And I think that Madison is a testament to that store—she looks terrific. But then again, I do love the bandage look.”

  “You would.”

  “Goodbye, Barbara,” Jennifer said lightly. “Madison and I are leaving now.”

  “And goodbye to both of you,” Blackwell said. “May you run away together to another country.”

  When Jennifer came out of the office, she hooked her arm around my shoulders and urged me forward. “I came down here for a reason,” she said when we were far enough down the hall to be out of earshot. “To talk with you.”

  “To talk with me?”

  “Yes, because I know how she can be. What you need to know about her, Madison, is that you can’t take much of what she says too seriously. For the most part, she’s just a pseudo hard-ass—unless you really cross her, and if you do, then you should probably run and hide. But what I’m pretty sure you don’t know is that she’s already said plenty of fine things about you to Alex and me. And because of that, we’re happy to have you here at Wenn.”

  “She’s actually said positive things about me?”

  “She has. And by your shocked expression alone, I can already tell that she’s putting you through hell right now, isn’t she?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Look, just know that on the sly—and in her own, um, unique way—she’s been raving about you.”

  “I hope you understand why I find that hard to believe.”

  “Oh, I get it. Still, take my advice when it comes to that one—stay the course. Keep working hard. You’ll always think that you’ve blown it with her, but that’s just part of her M.O. She’s just trying to pull the best out of you. In the end, yes, you’ll need to pass all of her tests. But when you do, you’ll eventually see that she’s only been working to shape you into the person she knows that you can become. You might not believe it now, but when she’s fully made up her mind up about you—and from what Alex and I hear, she’s just about there—you’ll be dealing with a completely different woman. One who respects you. And one who will also go to the mat for you.”

  “I can’t see that on the horizon for me,” I said.

  “Trust me on this. It’ll happen.”

  As we approached the elevator, I felt calmer than I had earlier. Jennifer Wenn was not only gorgeous and wealthy, but she also was a surprisingly down-to-earth woman whom I liked immediately.

  “Let’s give this a few more days,” she said. “If Blackwell continues to be unreasonable, come to me, and Alex and I will work things out with her on your behalf. Because if she does go on with this façade of hers too much longer, believe me, I have my own ways of dealing with her when she gets out of line.”

  When the elevator opened, we stepped inside.

  “So, how about if we leave all of that behind and have a quick chat? Where are you from, Madison?”

  “Granville, Wisconsin.”

  “I’m not sure that I’ve heard of it.”

  “I don’t think many have. It’s a rural blip on the map.”

  “I come from Maine,” she said. “So, I know rural. How long have you been in the city?”

  “Two years.”

  “Barbara mentioned to Alex and me that you received your M.B.A. from Harvard. If you don’t mind my saying, I have a feeling that you didn’t go to that school to become a personal assistant. . . .”

  “You’d be right. But since I arrived in this city with no connections, it’s been tough finding something better. Unlike many of my peers at Harvard, I know no one of importance here, which has set me back.”

  “I remember those days,” she said. “They were awful.”

  “Believe me, I’m grateful to have this job. When I interviewed, Ms. Blackwell said that there would be other opportunities for me here if I proved myself to her. So, I’m hoping that happens.”

  The elevator started to descend.

  “I went through a similar experience when I first came to Manhattan,” she said. “I was out of work for four months before I came to Wenn. I know how frustrating finding good work can be when it comes to this city. It’s brutal.”

  “It is,” I said. “But it hasn’t beaten me yet. I just need to focus, work hard, and prove myself.”

  “Wenn has plenty of opportunities, Madison. Now that I know your story, I’ll be talking to Blackwell about your progress, and she and I will look for a better fit for you elsewhere at Wenn. Obviously, someone with your background is being wasted fetching salads for Blackwell. What would you like to do?”

  “Marketing. Maybe in Wenn’s music division?”

  “Plenty of opportunities there. So, now that we’ve met and I know what kind of a position you’re seeking, let me see what I can do.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “It’s my pleasure.”

  The elevator stopped at the forty-seventh floor and the doors slid open.

  “I can’t tell you what this talk has meant to me,” I said to her.

  She pressed her hand against my shoulder before she stepped out of the elevator. And then she paused and turned to look at me. “Not everyone comes from a place of power and connections, Madison. I know that myself. So, good luck to you. Stay focused, work hard, and know that I’ll be rooting for you. Get in there and prove Blackwell wrong. If I could win her over, then you certainly can. We’ll talk soon, OK?”

  And with that, the elevator doors shut, and Jennifer Wenn was gone.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  When I arrived at the Wenn Fitness complex that was closest to the Wenn Enterprises building—it was only a block south, which scored major points with me because of the convenience—I couldn’t believe how upscale and posh the place was, not to mention how terrific the music was. Madonna’s latest remix was playing on the surround-sound system, and with that alone, I was eager to start my workout.

  While I assumed that those who didn’t work for Wenn had to pay plenty to have the pleasure to work out here, I couldn’t believe my luck that I didn’t have to pay a cent to enjoy it.

  Finally, a perk I could use on the spot!

  When I went to the sleek, almost futuristic reception desk, an extremely muscular, impossibly good-looking man somewhere in his late twenties greeted me.

  “I’m Luc,” he said. “How can I help you?”

  Perhaps by taking off your shirt?

  Not that he needed to—it was clear that Luc was one bench press shy of bursting out of it. He had a head of thick, close-cut brown hair, a strong jawline, a body that was so well proportioned, it was intimidating—but his smile was disarming, not arrogant, which was refreshing to see.

  “I’m actually new here,” I said to him. “I just started at Wenn Enterprises. I was told that this was part of my benefits package.”

  “Indeed it is,” he said as he moved over to a computer. “How about if I get your name, and we’ll get you set up in the system?”

  “I’m Madison Wells.”

  “Madison Wells,” he said as he typed my name into the computer. After a moment, he said, “And there you are. Congratulations on joining Wenn.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I see that you’re Barbara Blackwell’s new personal assistant.”

  “I am.”

  “Then you’ll probably have to focus on cardio and strength training,” he said with the hint of a grin.

  And her reputation continues to soar through Manhattan like a lightning bolt slashing through the sky.

  “That would be helpful,” I said.

  “Part of your first day here includes a tour of the facility. I’d be happy to show you around once you’ve changed into your gear. We’ll also talk about your fitness goals. When I have a handle on that, I’ll teach you how to use the right machines properly so you can achieve them. Does that work for you?”

&n
bsp; “It does,” I said. “Just point me toward the locker room, and I’ll be ready to go in five minutes.”

  “It’s just there over to your left,” he said. “And by the way, each day you come to work out, come to the desk first and we’ll give you a key to one of the lockers. Before you leave, just drop the key here at the desk.” He handed me one. “Today, your locker number is 146. I’ll see you in five.”

  * * *

  After I’d finished changing into my green-and-black striped tank, which daringly exposed most of my midsection, and a pair of black spandex leggings with black-, green-, and gray-colored sneakers, I put my hair in a high ponytail and left the locker room to meet Luc.

  When he saw me, he folded his bulging arms in front of him and cocked his head to the side. “Maybe you don’t need my help,” he said. “Because you’ve obviously been working out. You look terrific, Madison.”

  “It helps that Manhattan is a walking city, that’s for sure, because this is the first time I’ve stepped into a gym since arriving here two years ago.”

  “Seriously?”

  “When I break a sweat within five minutes, you’ll know that’s the case.”

  “Then you’ve clearly got good genes,” he said. “Because not many newbies come here looking like you. Let me show you around.”

  As I followed him into the large, open space with a sweeping array of windows that overlooked the city, Luc pointed out a host of high-end machines, as well as a large area for those who preferred to use free weights.

  “I’m surprised there isn’t much of a crowd,” I said to him. “I think I’ve counted only about twenty people here.”

  “Wenn wants it that way,” he said. “A yearly membership here costs ten grand, and people expect a lot for that kind of money. Like no waiting lines to use the machines. Personalized service from licensed physical trainers. That sort of thing.”

  “Ten grand?”

  “That’s nothing,” he said. “Some of the really snooty places charge fifty grand per year, but you don’t want to go near one of those—unless you like to surround yourself with a group of snobs.”

  “That’s not really an issue for me,” I said. “Let’s just say that I’m not exactly part of that socioeconomic group.”

  “Who is?” he laughed. “The whole idea behind Wenn Fitness is that we do want to keep it somewhat exclusive, thus the price of entry. You’re mostly going to see colleagues from work and also those who can pony up the ten grand to work out here. The latter group will mostly be up-and-coming executives who have come to network their way into Wenn. Be prepared for that, because I have a feeling that you’re going to get a fair bit of it.”

  “I’m little more than a personal assistant. What can I offer anyone?”

  “Access to Barbara Blackwell,” he said without missing a beat. “Because of that alone, when word leaks out what you do at Wenn, I’m pretty sure that you’re about to become very popular here.”

  * * *

  I had just finished my tour of the facility and was learning how to use a piece of equipment that would strengthen my arms when I saw Brock walk through the front doors.

  Gone were the khakis, the white button-front shirt, and the blue blazer he’d worn at the office. Now he was wearing a skin-tight white T-shirt that clung to him in ways that were unthinkably cruel and a faded pair of Levi 501s that revealed the generous curve of his ass, as well as the sizable bulge at his crotch. Each caught me off guard in ways that made me blush. I’d seen the man in a suit, but like this?

  If there was a God, this man continued to stand as proof of that.

  As I watched him, my heart quickened as I tried to sort out how we could possibly be here together right now. I’d said nothing to him about coming here when we had coffee this morning, but there was no way in hell that this was by pure coincidence.

  And then it occurred to me. He must have have overheard me when I was standing outside Blackwell’s door and had not only mentioned coming here to her, but also to Jennifer.

  After all, Brock’s own door had been open.

  “Are you all right,” Luc asked. “Are the weights too heavy? You’ve suddenly gone tense.”

  “No, no,” I said as I saw Brock catch my eye before I turned away from him and looked over my shoulder at Luc. “A co-worker I recently met just came in. I’m so new at Wenn, I’m surprised that I’d recognize anyone at all.”

  “You’ll get used to it,” he said. “Now, before you begin again, do you mind if I show you how you could correct your posture so you get the best out of this workout? I’ll need to touch you in order to do so, and because of house rules, I need to ask your permission before I do so.”

  This man had been nothing if not professional since I’d met him. He certainly wasn’t going to make an inappropriate move, so I shrugged. “Sure,” I said. “I’m here to learn. What am I doing wrong?”

  As Luc placed one hand against my flat stomach and his other hand against the base of my back, he straightened me with ease while Brock blatantly looked on in annoyance while he waited for someone to greet him at the front desk.

  “If you sit like this,” Luc said, “your arms will be able to stretch out completely in ways that they weren’t able to before because you weren’t sitting properly. So, when you use this machine, make sure that your back is pressed against the back of the seat and that your core is absolutely upright and straight. When it is, you’ll see the difference. So, go ahead and try it now. That’s right. Nice and slow. The slower you go and the more you extend your arms, the less bulk you will build. What we’re going for here is strength, sure, but we’re also trying to enhance the feminine tone you’ve already achieved.”

  As I went through the exercise, I glanced over at Brock, and saw that he was now going through the same motions I’d gone through when I’d signed up for Wenn Fitness thirty minutes ago. He was talking to one of the other trainers—a beautiful blonde woman in her mid-twenties who was leaning over the counter and apparently getting his information before she pulled back and started to use the computer in front of her.

  And there it was—this was indeed his first time here. There was now no question that he’d heard me mention to Blackwell and Jennifer that I was coming here to work out, and he’d decided to come along for the ride. Busted!

  “That was perfect,” Luc said. “How about if we try the leg-extension machine?”

  “Sorry?” I said.

  “I think you’ve mastered this,” he said with a curious look on his face. “Would you like to try to work on your legs?”

  “Of course,” I said—and when I spoke, even I could hear how flustered I was because I knew it was only a matter of time before Brock came over to me. And what was I to say to him then? That he looked hot in his jeans? That I’d wished he’d taken me seriously when we’d met for coffee? I actually wanted to say both to him, because each was true. I looked at Luc. “As you pointed out earlier, I’m hoping to build up the strength in my legs so I can get through the day. She has me running everywhere.”

  “No problem. Have you been experiencing any muscle weakness lately?”

  Oh, Luc, Luc, you don’t even know. With Brock standing thirty feet away from me? Right now, my legs feel as if they don’t have bones.

  “A bit. But I can always improve.”

  “Then let’s step over to the next machine.”

  When I stood, Brock looked directly at me. I saw his gaze sweep over my body, which was practically naked, and then, after a long moment in which he seemed to take in as much of me as he could, he nodded at me. I nodded back. He glanced at Luc, appeared to size him up, and then he looked back at me with a lifted eyebrow.

  And . . . what was that about? Does he think that I’m interested in Luc? Is he somehow jealous?

  “Have a seat here,” Luc said.

  “A seat?” I said.

  “Yes. If you could sit here, we can try some leg extensions to strengthen your quads. Then we’ll move to other machines
that will help you improve your hams and calves. Coupled with cardio over the course of a few weeks, these exercises alone should be enough to strengthen your body so you can tackle whatever Ms. Blackwell tosses your way.”

  “A few weeks? I need this done ASAP, Luc. Between us, she’s already running me ragged.”

  “That will remain between us,” he said. “I’ve heard the rumors. And to be honest, with real dedication, it probably will take much less time than that. I’m just being conservative so I don’t disappoint you. So let me show you how these next three machines work, and then I’ll leave you to your workout. How does that sound?”

  I watched Brock enter the men’s locker room so he could get changed.

  “Perfect,” I said. “But I’d also like to train my waist. Is that possible?”

  “It is.”

  “Then let’s do it.”

  * * *

  Ten minutes and three machines later, I was in the process of using the “waist trainer,” which Luc said would help build my core strength, when Brock exited the locker room.

  And when he did, I had all I could do to keep my expression neutral, even if my mouth wanted to drop.

  He was dressed in a black tank that revealed a massive, cut chest that was lightly hairy. He wore white Spandex shorts that came just to the knee—and that left little to the imagination—and a pair of black sneakers.

  Since the obnoxiously pretty blonde who had signed him up was standing just outside the locker room door to meet him, he didn’t have time to spot me before he began his tour of the facility.

  “Does everyone here get a tour?” I asked as I twisted my body from left to right in ways that felt unnatural to me.

  “Every new member gets a tour with one of our trainers. Then, after they’ve expressed their workout goals, we make sure that they have a full understanding of the machines we suggest they use, or how to properly use the free weights if that’s the route they want to take. You and I have focused on arms, legs, and core strength. When you decide on what kind of cardio you’d like to try, I’ll show you how to use that particular machine properly, and then we’re finished. The whole thing only takes about forty-five minutes, but you should always know that you can ask any trainer any question at any time. We have a large staff, we know when our peak hours of operation are, and because we plan ahead for that, it’s going to be a rare day when someone won’t be immediately available to you.”