by Hazel Kelly
“Why would I want you to fire Gemma?” I asked. “She’s fantastic.”
“So you can bang her?”
I blinked at him.
“Oh shit, you didn’t.”
“Actually,” I said, eager to avoid such a digression. “I want you to fire her boss and put her in charge.”
“What? Why?”
“Because her boss is incompetent.” I pulled a piece of paper from my other pocket and handed it to him. “For all these reasons and then some.”
“When do you need me to do this?” he asked, his eyes widening as he worked his way down the list.
“The sooner the better.”
T W E N T Y F O U R
- Gemma -
I’d never been fired before, and my mind was swinging back and forth like a pendulum. First, I’d spend a few minutes feeling really sorry for myself, really panicked, and really depressed. Then, I’d feel a rush of anger and spend a while thinking about all the obscenities and nasty comebacks I could’ve said on my way out the door.
Unfortunately, it didn’t matter which mood was overtaking me at the time. Under no circumstance could I drive anywhere. I tried, but as soon as I pulled into traffic, a panic attack began squeezing my chest so hard I knew I had to pull over. That’s how I ended up in the Shoe Outlet parking lot at the end of the strip mall right around the corner.
And no matter how much I willed myself to drive somewhere else, I couldn’t.
Maybe I was the loser Ray thought I was.
I reclined my seat back as far as it would go and stared out the sunroof. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Beautiful day to get fired.
I lifted my head enough to peek out at the parking lot, wondering what occasion the two women walking inside together were shopping for. Or maybe, like me, they went to shoe stores for retail therapy because shoes fit no matter what size your backside happens to be from week to week.
I could drive to my dad’s.
After all, I’d sat with him after many a firing, even though the poor guy was better with his hands than any man I knew. Well, Alex was pretty good with his hands…
God, how embarrassing. Would Mary say anything to him?
Anyway, I always knew when my dad got laid off because he’d come home with fancy takeout. I remember thinking it was odd at the time. You find out your source of income is gone, and you splash out on extra pots of plum sauce and those overpriced, single serving brownies by the takeout register?
But I understood now. Because I remembered those meals far better than the ones that came after, where we’d spend weeks eating canned beans over frozen potato wedges. My mouth watered.
No. I couldn’t go there. My bad news would only make him feel worse about owing me money.
Tink might be able to cheer me up. Only because her perfect little nose was so distracting the way it glistened when she licked it. Then again, if I couldn’t find another job right away, I’d have plenty of time to spend with her.
Plus, it was better if Jeanie didn’t know. She might worry that I wouldn’t be moving out as promptly as promised, and I didn’t even want the crutch of her telling me again that there was no rush. My ego couldn’t take it.
In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I began to think there was only one person whose face I could bear to see, and he was going to be in the one place I couldn’t go all day. On the bright side, at least we didn’t work together anymore, so it could be good for us…assuming he would find me even more desirable once he realized I was not only homeless but unemployed, too.
Ridiculous.
I leaned my seat up just enough that I could keep an eye out and slid a hand down the front of my pants. Maybe if I thought about Alex for a few minutes, I could keep my mind from ping-ponging long enough to feel good. Or was that wrong in a parking lot in broad daylight?
Sorry, Officer, I was only trying to cheer myself up.
It was warm between my legs, but my clit seemed to welcome the attention my fingers lavished on it, my arm still from the elbow up. I thought about what it would be like if Alex showed up. I’d get out of the car and fall into his arms. He’d hug me tight and kiss me, his lips tasting the silent tears that rolled down my cheeks.
Then with one look in his dark eyes, I’d know exactly what would make me feel better…
I drag my hands down his body as I sink to my knees, my breath growing hot as my face passes the zipper on his jeans.
He keeps his eyes on mine as he unfastens his belt and pulls his dick out.
I gushed against my fingertips and warmed them in my silk, dragging out my slow blinks so I could stay in the moment.
Alex grabs my hair as soon as I slip my mouth over his cock and spreads his hand over my head when I pick up the pace. I feel his moans between my legs while I suck him, his dick surging every time I squeeze my lips around him.
“I’m going to come,” he groans, his head dropping back.
I’m close, too, and I get ready to swallow everything he’ll give me as I come along with him.
Finally, he shoots his load against the back of my throat and my cheeks fill with his desire, but I keep sucking as my lower body spasms, as if the waves of his orgasm are dictating the rhythm of my own.
I lay panting and put my hand back in my lap, my eyes scanning the sunny parking lot. Nothing had changed…apart from the amount of dopamine in my brain. Yet that did little to ease the harsh reality of my predicament, which was that I was a homeless, unemployed, slightly overweight creep who masturbated in parking lots.
I do not deserve love. The universe owes me nothing.
Except maybe beans on crispy potato wedges. Fuck.
The warmth in my clit began to fade as worries flooded my mind again.
Sometime later, the phone rang. It was only when I glanced at the screen that I realized I’d been sitting there for over an hour. Less than two. Thank God. That would be crazy.
It was the gym. I watched the phone ring until it stopped, holding it in my hand for a long time afterwards, but the noise that signals a new message never came.
Why would I be getting a call from Pump?
The number popped up again a few seconds later. Again, I didn’t answer it, couldn’t tell if I wanted to. I was too confused, as if everything in my body was telling me I couldn’t handle any new information.
I hoped this time the caller would leave a message.
But things didn’t go my way. Shocker.
I put the car in drive and started rolling forward like a student driver. Or an escapee from a mental ward. Whatever the sensation was, I didn’t feel like myself.
Suddenly, I realized I cared a whole lot more about that job than I was admitting to myself. I mean, I actually looked forward to going in there every day. How many people could say that about their work?
And I really meant it. I took pride in that gym, and maybe it was never as much mine as it felt, but that pride had given me strength when I needed it most.
I didn’t want to work somewhere else.
I looked up ahead at the traffic lights and pulled into a different parking space when it occurred to me that I never did figure out where I wanted to go.
The phone rang again a moment later.
“Hello?” I said, trying to answer in a way that didn’t sound totally pathetic.
“Is this Gemma Ryan?”
“Speaking.” I turned off the car and watched a plastic bag blow by like a tumbleweed.
“This is Jimmy McCall. I’m the CTO of Pump.”
I winced. “Okay.”
“I was wondering if you could come in to discuss a job opportunity.”
My eyebrows collided.
“Ms. Ryan?”
“Come in where?”
“Pump,” he said. “In Glenview.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Why’s that?”
Nausea churned my stomach as if I’d been caught without my homework. “I got fired from there
this morning?”
“I know,” he said. “That’s what I want to talk to you about.”
“Oh.”
“How soon can you get here?”
“To the gym?” I asked, buying myself time to think. I couldn’t say I was only a minute down the road and go back there in my uniform. Could I? With my wet underwear in a bag in the car? No. No. No. No. No to this whole situation.
“Yes.”
“This afternoon,” I said, hoping a few hours was all I needed to pull myself back together. “I can come by this afternoon.”
T W E N T Y F I V E
- Alex -
There was something different about her when she returned to the gym.
It was more than the fact that she’d changed clothes from her uniform into a crisp white shirt and a form-fitting black pantsuit. Or maybe it was only that. God knows I carried myself differently when I was wearing one of my bespoke suits. Regardless, she waltzed in with her chin up and her shoulders back, looking like she’d just come from the White House.
The sight of her looking so determined was enough to give me goosebumps all the way across the gym, where I was replacing the pedals on a stationary bike when she walked in.
My eyes followed her until she disappeared into the main office with Jimmy, which led to the longest twenty minutes of my life.
I wanted to kill him. I deliberately told him to keep it short and sweet. Apologize for how long she had to work under Mary’s lackluster leadership, get her to sign a new contract, and get the hell out. After all, the longer he was here, the more likely he was to say something that would out me as the boss, and that was the last thing I wanted.
Not because I was never going to come clean, but because I was eager to see how she took charge, as I had a hunch I might learn something from how she ran my gym.
Besides, things were going so well between us. Why rock the boat? Especially after this morning.
Having her look me in the eye and say she felt “hopelessly swept” made my chest swell with pride in a way I’d only felt twice before.
The first time was when my mom made me get up early and shovel every driveway on the street after a snowstorm. I could still remember how grateful the neighbors were, how it made me feel when they told her what a good boy I was. I felt so proud, and on some level, I wanted to believe my dad knew about my good deed, wherever he was. Of course, that was back when I still believed he was someone worth impressing.
The second time was at Pump’s first Christmas party, three months after our grand opening. I rented out a banquet hall downtown and wined and dined everyone to thank them for making our launch a big success. It was the only time I’d ever had a bottle of bubbly fizzed over my head.
But then my mom got sick, and I stopped throwing parties for the team. Hell, I could scarcely recall the last time I acknowledged their hard work, much less thanked them for it.
Maybe Jimmy was right. Maybe I had lost sight of what was important, of what actually made us a success to begin with. God knows keeping the equipment up to date wasn’t enough in this industry. You had to create an atmosphere that made people want to come back every day, and I couldn’t be in every gym anymore, micromanaging every last thing. I had to remember how to lead from the front again, or Jimmy was right. I’d have no choice but to take Cliff’s offer.
Anyway, when Gemma looked at me like that, with her eyes so full of hope and trust, I swear I could’ve died right there. Honestly, I don’t know what it was about her that made me feel alive again, but it wasn’t just physical. It was more than that.
Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that I knew she liked me before I got ripped and rich, whereas too many of the other women I’d dated had come at me like they were trying to win something. But it never felt that way with Gemma. On the contrary, I’d only ever seen her earn people’s affection one exchange at a time, mine included.
I was on my knees cleaning the track on a rowing machine when she finally came out of the office and walked straight out the front door. I stood and mopped my brow with the back of my forearm, trying to convince myself I was seeing things. But when she didn’t walk back in, I put my supplies to one side and marched over to confront Jimmy.
He was exiting the office as I approached, and I shot him a look that told him to back the fuck up.
“What the hell happened?” I said after I closed the door behind us.
“What do you mean ‘what the hell happened’?” he asked, leaning against the desk. “I did exactly what you told me to do.”
I pointed a palm at the door behind me. “Then why did she just leave?”
“Jesus. Can you seriously not go another five minutes without her by your side? You’re more sprung than I thought.”
I took a deep breath through my nose.
“I can see why, though, now that I’ve spoken to her. She is pretty adorable.”
I crossed my arms.
“I get why you’d want to rip her clothes off,” he said. “She seems so eager to please.”
I knew he was trying to get a rise out of me, so I didn’t take the bait. “What did she say?”
He stuffed his neck back. “What do you mean ‘what did she say’?”
“Did she take the job?”
“Of course she took the job.”
“So why’d she walk out after she talked to you?”
He rolled his eyes.
“You really need to chill out.”
“I’ll chill out when you give me some fucking answers.”
“She said she’d do it, okay? She’s delighted.”
My chest loosened. “What took so long then?”
He shrugged. “She has a lot of ideas for the place. She wanted to get to the bottom of what kind of changes she is and isn’t allowed to make.”
“Right.”
“Apparently, Mary didn’t allow for original thought, much less original initiatives.”
“I told you she was bad.”
“And I don’t doubt it,” he said. “Though she may have had a point in firing your girlfriend.”
I turned an ear in his direction. “What are you talking about?”
“You should probably talk to Gemma about that yourself.”
I dropped my chin. “Jimmy.”
He raised his palms. “All I’m saying is you might not be the only guy who’s interested in her.”
“I know that,” I said, my mind flashing back to the state of her car last night.
He exhaled audibly. “That’s a relief. Just don’t want you to get hurt.”
I narrowed my gaze.
“What did she do?”
He paused before answering. “She hooked up with someone on the premises,” he said. “Well, I don’t know that for sure.”
I felt the color drain from my face.
“But I don’t know why else you’d leave your underwear in the steam room.”
I swallowed. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Oh shit, it was you! You dog!”
“I plead the fifth.”
“Plead whatever you want,” he said. “I can see the guilt all over your face.”
“Did she say anything else about it?”
“Nope,” he said. “Just assured me it wouldn’t happen again.”
I squeezed my jaw in one hand.
“Don’t look so disappointed. She handled herself as well as a person could considering the mindfuck of a morning she had.”
“Please keep this between us,” I said. “She’s worked so hard for the good reputation she has here.”
“It’s not my business,” he said, coming towards the door and putting a hand on my shoulder. “It’s yours, remember?”
I nodded. “I think I’m starting to.”
F L A S H B A C K
- Alex -
I flinched when a whistle sounded from the wooden guard tower at the edge of the crowded lakeshore.
“No dunking!” one of the counselors shouted at a group
of rowdy boys.
I yanked on the ends of the towel hanging around my neck, which had been bleached and washed so many times I doubted it was any more absorbent than sandpaper. Then I backed up against a nearby tree, hoping I wouldn’t be the next victim on the dunk list. Or worse. Last time I went swimming one of the older boys pulled my trunks down underwater just to fuck with me.
I looked out at the lake. It was filled with bobbing heads and shoulders, all of which stayed in front of the buoy rope where the water got deep. Then I looked back at the bathroom cabin and wondered what was taking Gemma so long.
“Aren’t you going to swim?” one of the counselors asked me as she crossed her arms, her gum smacking so loud it kept making me blink.
“I’m waiting for my friend.”
“Which friend?” she asked, cocking her head like she didn’t believe me.
“Gemma,” I said, wondering if friend was the right word. Granted, I preferred her company to everyone else’s, but sometimes I wondered if she actually liked me for me or if she only liked me because we hated all the same activities.
“Gemma…?”
I had no idea what her last name was. “The one with dark hair.”
“The chubby one?”
“She’s not chubby,” I said, surprised that one of the counselors would be so rude.
“Compared to the other Gemma she is.”
I tried to convince myself she hadn’t meant anything by it since talking to her was giving me an excuse to stay dry. Not that I didn’t enjoy swimming. I was pretty fast when I wanted to be, but swim-for-your-life wasn’t exactly a game I was dying to play that afternoon.
“Here she comes now,” the counselor said, nodding over her shoulder. “Have a fun swim!”
I rolled my eyes as she walked off, marveling at how out of touch the counselors could be. As if we all actually wanted to be there answering to their whistles and eating slop three times a day. Gimme a break.
“Hi,” Gemma said, stopping beside me.
“Have you been crying?” I asked, studying her face.
She shook her head and pulled her towel tighter around her.
