As the final song plays, I realize the jerk doesn’t know how to slow down. Unlike a regular bike you don’t just stop pedaling. Well, fuck. It would be entertaining except for the fact he can actually cause his body to go into rhabdomyolysis. Which can leave you seriously fucked up. I move quickly, taking the steps I need to stop my own cycle.
He grabs the emergency brake to slow himself down. I reach over and dial the tension knob over to release the resistance so he can bring his ride to a close. His face is a mask of deep red. Could be from embarrassment or overexertion.
“You okay?” I ask him.
He nods, but his eyes show a wave of anger that signals he would have gone after me physically if he hadn’t pushed himself beyond all limits.
Sonny steps over. “TJ, take the front desk. I’ll help Mr. …?”
“Chadwick. Calvin Chadwick.”
His name sounds familiar. I briefly wonder whether I processed his application. In the end, it doesn’t matter who or how, only that he’s gone.
I walk out of the classroom and find Chelsea lingering around the corner. Closer to the door to the employee lounge and out of sight of the spin classroom.
“Hey, TJ,” she calls out softly.
I motion for her to follow me toward the women’s locker room. Because I want her to be able to duck inside if Calvin “the jerkoff” Chadwick meanders this way. Doubtful, because I’m fairly certain Sonny is offering him a refund as we speak. We don’t need members who get off intimidating others.
“Hey, Chelsea. I want to apologize for the creeper.”
She smiles. “And I want to thank you for your assistance with him.”
Nodding, I say, “Look, maybe you want to hang out in the locker room until Sonny has time to get him gone?”
“Yeah. I’m sweaty anyway. It was a great workout. Usually, Leslie teaches the class, but I’m glad you were there today.”
“My pleasure. I’m glad you enjoyed the workout after all. We take care of our own here. If anyone ever bothers you, tell any staff member. Got it?”
“Yeah.” She lets out a soft breath. “Thanks. Umm. Can I ask you a favor?”
“Of course.”
“Would you mind walking me to my car when I’m ready to leave?”
“Not at all. I would have suggested it myself.” I roll my lips inward. “But I was afraid to sound like a creeper.”
“Never.” She grins. “I really appreciate it.”
“Sure thing. I’ll be down at the front desk when you’re ready for an escort.”
“Thanks. Give me about thirty minutes?”
“Sounds good,” I say, and make my way to the front desk.
My steps slow when I realize Calvin hasn’t left the building. Shit. Though I’m grateful Leslie is nowhere in sight. I walk up behind Sonny who still sounds reasonable in the face of Calvin’s furious mug. He gets right up into Sonny’s grill. He’s taller than Sonny but not taller than me.
Sonny stands his ground. Feet apart. Hands hang loose at his sides. If Calvin doesn’t watch himself, he’ll find out in a hurry that Sonny trains with an MMA fighter. It happens to be his baby brother, but Sonny can still wipe the floor with guys who are twice his size. I wouldn’t call myself a violent person, but this dude needs to learn respect for others. Especially women. So if the situation gets physical, I’ll grab a bag of popcorn and enjoy the show.
Sonny is vicious in the octagon.
“You can’t kill my membership. You have no cause,” Calvin argues.
Sonny says in a pleasant tone, “It’s my gym. I have the right to refuse service to anyone.” He points at the sign on the front door that says the same freaking thing.
“Why?” Calvin sneers at us both. “Did your boy complain that he couldn’t keep up?”
Sonny shakes his head. “We both know that’s not true.”
It remains unclear whether Sonny means I didn’t come in second to this loser or that I didn’t complain.
“Let’s just agree that this gym isn’t the place for you. You’ll get a full refund and a referral to Al’s down the street. They’ll take good care of you.”
“You have to give me a reason for kicking me out.”
Sonny shakes his head. “No, I really don’t.” He presses a key on the register keyboard to release the money drawer. He passes Calvin a ten-dollar bill. “Here’s your money. Have a nice day.”
Calvin makes eye contact with me. His face mirrors his contempt for me. “You had a hand in this. I won’t forget.”
He’s staring me down, but I’m not going to break eye contact first. Because screw him. He’s the asshole. He brought this on himself.
Sonny says, “Don’t ever threaten my employees. Get your ass off my property before I call the cops.”
It didn’t seem like it could be possible, but Calvin’s face got even redder. Beads of sweat bubble up along his forehead like water in a saucepan about to hit a hard boil.
“This place is a fucking dump. You couldn’t pay me to come here.”
“Good,” Sonny says. “We won’t.”
As soon as the door closes behind him Sonny tells me, “If he returns you call the cops first, then you call me. Got it?”
“Sure, Sonny. I hear you.”
A few minutes later I get a text from Leslie: Is he gone?
Yes. I type. All clear.
Leslie slinks to the front desk. She whispers, “Sonny, that guy scared me. There’s something off about him. Ya know?”
Sonny nods. His jaw works the way it does when he grinds his teeth. He gives Leslie the same order he gave me about the police.
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Leslie’s face looks paler than usual.
Sonny says, “I’ll be in the office, watching the cameras. Be sure to let me know if anyone steps one millimeter out of line today.”
Damn. I hope his anger stays focused on Calvin. I’d hate for him to aim all that pissed-off at one of us. “Sure thing, boss.”
Leslie checks her watch. “I’m going to wipe down the cycles before the next class.”
“Oh, hey. Can you wait on that?”
“Yes, for a little while anyway. What’s up?”
“Chelsea, from your spin class, had a run-in with Calvin—that’s the dickwad’s name—right as I got in the room. That one wastes no time harassing women.”
“Seriously? Damn. I like Chelsea—she’s become a regular.”
“Yeah, I promised to walk her to her car. Just in case.”
She lets out a breath. “Yes. Totally. I’m glad you offered. That guy.” She shivers. “Man, I still have the willies.”
“I’ll walk you out, too. At the end of your shift. No need to go it alone.”
“Thanks, TJ.”
“No problem.” And it won’t be. Geez, whatever crawled up Calvin’s ass got embedded before I goaded him on today. Or not. Some people act like grenades with the pin pulled, ready to blow and wipe out anyone in range regardless of trigger.
I’m on full alert walking Chelsea to her car, but the creeper is gone as far as I can tell.
“Thanks again, TJ.”
“Anytime.” I wait until she drives out of our lot to walk back inside the gym.
An hour later I go on break. Checking my phone in the employee break area I notice a missed call from a number I don’t recognize. Whoever called left a voicemail.
Tiago, this is Greg Garret, the attorney representing your family for title fraud. Your mother asked me to call you to discuss the latest development. She asked me to bring you up to date. In turn, you’ll be able to explain the situation to her. You can reach me until eight tonight, or try again at eight in the morning. Bye.
My heart plummets to my toes. I use the call-back feature while my pulse beats in my ears.
“Greg Garret speaking.”
“Mr. Garret, it’s Tiago Trindade. I’m returning your call.”
“It’s not good news, I’m afraid.”
My hands go numb. I want to sc
ream say it, at the same time I have to force myself not to hang up. If only severing the connection would stop what’s coming for us. My mouth is as dry as hot sand on a deserted beach.
“What?” I manage the word. But nothing else.
“Unfortunately, the red-flag affidavit I filed was too little, too late. The quitclaim deed your grandmother signed was recorded, and the house has been sold to a real estate investment firm, who now holds the title.”
“So that’s it? We’re done?” Tension sends a pain spike into my brain that immediately makes me feel like puking. I swallow and take short breaths to try to stop myself from vomiting on the break table.
“No. We’ll need to prove the deed was signed under undue influence and move for revocation of the quitclaim deed.”
“How do we prove it?”
“Quitclaim deeds are protected from fraudulent signing under the Uniform Fraudulent Transfer Act. Undue influence happens when unfair advantage is taken of someone unable to make decisions, in distress, or susceptible to coercion. Your mother mentioned the fact your grandmother has been having issues with memory loss. Alzheimer’s would certainly leave someone vulnerable to scam.”
“Yes.”
“Your family will need to have your grandmother declared unfit to make financial decisions by a medical doctor. Power of attorney would fall to your mother as next of kin.”
I nod because words fail me. But then I realize he can’t see me. “Okay.”
“While your family works with her doctor, I’ll file a petition with the court. You’ll need to explain all of this to your mother.”
“I will,” I whisper.
“Good. I’ll be in touch.”
How do you take power away from someone you love? The power to make decisions that affect their lives or money they’ve scrimped and saved? The power to say keep me alive, or let me go? Endless decisions. It feels off. Man, it feels too soon to tell the court that my avó—the woman who helped raise me—can’t be allowed to choose for herself. For the rest of her life. This is what Phoebe’s mother brought down on my family. Her act of cruelty pays forward.
The hard fact is Avó can’t live on her own anymore. Our current crisis is a huge red flag of her vulnerability. She can’t be allowed access to make decisions that might ultimately endanger her future. We have to make choices to protect her from scum like Helen Sharpe.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Phoebe
Agnes, Grams, and myself sit at the dining room table in her apartment. She sent Gavin away after her first glance at me this morning when I shuffled down the hall for coffee. Then she called in reinforcements.
“Phoebe, you look like someone dunked you in a starch vat and let you drip-dry.”
“I don’t know what that is,” I say tiredly. My whole body hurts. My evening was spent tossing and turning. At one point I got in the shower to try to relax and couldn’t be bothered to brush my hair afterward. Patting my hair, I realize it’s sticking straight up in places and snarled into knotted patches everywhere else.
I don’t give a crap. I made an ass of myself with Tiago yesterday. I’m still reliving the moment when I joked about falling for him. His reaction clearly shows I’m the only one about to get flattened. Tiago’s interest in me consists of friendship and sex. I can choose to accept it or move on.
“Honey, maybe we can help. What happened?” Grams asks.
Agnes suggests, “Hair like that only comes from one thing. Man trouble.”
Sipping my coffee, I consider whether I should ask for their advice. I mean, they have decades more experience than I do with men. “I’m falling for someone, but he’s annoyingly on his feet,” I huff. “I mean he doesn’t seem to feel the same way.”
“He’s an idiot,” both women say at once.
“Thanks. But he’s not. Tiago’s a pretty decent guy. He takes care of people—his family, me—maybe he’s got too much to deal with to think about anything else?”
“Why do you think he doesn’t feel the same way?” Grams asks.
“Yesterday I made a joke about how much I care. His reaction showed me his true feelings.”
“If he’s taking care of everyone else, it could be he has no time to think about himself,” Grams says.
“Give him time. Men are blind. They don’t see what’s in front of them half the time. I walked away from the only guy I fell ass over teakettle for,” Agnes says softly.
Wow. I never imagined Agnes pining for anyone. I rub her hand. “What happened?”
“Jealousy.” She sighs. “Stupidity.” Her lip curls. “My first husband, Ralph, was James’s best friend. James was my first, maybe my only, love. I didn’t realize the true nature of their friendship. You see, it turns out that Ralph was always jealous of James. Wanted what he had, et cetera. I fell for it.”
“What did you fall for?”
She scoffs. “Ralph told me he saw James kissing Penny, my arch-rival from high school. I showed him, didn’t I? Ran off with Ralph that same weekend and eloped.”
“Holy cow.”
“Oh, Agnes,” Grams whispers.
“Pride is a vicious, two-faced witch. Just as likely to spite the person feeling it as the person on the receiving end of it. I never loved another man the way I loved James. I was such a fool.”
“Did James marry Penny?”
“No, it turns out James was never with Penny.”
“Wait, what? How did you find out?”
“James showed up to our little wedding reception my parents held in their backyard for family and close friends. He cornered me and demanded to know how long I’d been seeing Ralph behind his back.
“I told him my decision was made after Ralph told me about what you and Penny were up to. That’s when Ralph sidled up and told us both he might have been mistaken about Penny.”
“That’s messed up,” I say full of hurt for the trick played on Agnes and James. “What did you do?”
“James left, and I never saw him again. I cut the wedding cake with Ralph. I stayed with him for fifteen years before he passed, but I made damn sure we never had babies together. By then the pill was legal. He wanted babies. I wanted James. Neither one of us got what we wanted.”
“What happened to Ralph?”
“Died driving drunk in a head-on collision with a semitrailer on Highway 17. He was the only fatality. That was before they added the cement divider between the lanes. Lots of people died on that highway. Still do, I suppose.”
I can hardly take it in. All that pain and suffering because Agnes didn’t fact-check. I’ve got to relax about yesterday. Maybe Tiago and I aren’t on the same page yet, but that doesn’t mean it won’t ever happen. I guess I need to trust that we’ll get there someday, and not let pride get in the way. “I don’t know what to say.”
“I’ve been a wife to three different men, and not one of them held a candle to my James. I was faithful to all my husbands, but my heart always belonged to my first love.”
“I’m sorry, Agnes.”
“Learn from my foolishness. Listen with your heart first, then let your mind noodle on it. Don’t believe everything you hear. Oh, and never marry someone because you’re pissed off at someone else.”
The entire time I get ready for school I think about Agnes and her lost love. Imagine staying married to someone who lied to and tricked you.
*
I get a text from Tiago after my last class. Got plans rn?
Welp. Here’s my chance to let yesterday go and let today happen. I type: Nope.
Three dots appear while he types. His text reads: Can we meet?
Where? I hit send.
Marcus Aurelius. The plinths in front of admin? Twenty minutes.
I add the like reaction to his text. Ducking into The Canteen for water before meeting him, I see Faith. She waves me over. The lunch crowd is long gone. Students stop by for cookies and coffee now.
When I reach her table, she stands to hug me. “How are you?” she asks.
Hugging her I say, “I’m well. You look fantastic.” She’s wearing jeans and a fitted button-front shirt in a periwinkle blue. One of my favorite colors. “I missed you in class this week.”
I take the empty seat next to hers. Checking the time to make sure I won’t be late.
“Yeah, I had a volunteer opportunity at Teen Space. Professor Pérez gave me the go-ahead. Catch me up.”
“Nothing much to tell. Work is good. Caity stopped filming my avocado dances. My week in a nutshell.”
“Wait, Caity filmed you? Has she posted it to KickBack?”
“She hasn’t. I’m grateful to the universe for her sudden amnesia. Maybe she’s giving up.” I give the table a sharp rap with my knuckles.
Faith snickers. “Dad knocks wood.”
“It was either that or pull out my necklace of garlic to ward off evil.”
“Garlic is for vampires. Use a crucifix against evil,” she says decisively.
“Maybe I should carry both,” I say grinning at her. I missed hanging out with Faith this week.
“I didn’t want to text you about TJ, because that’s a face-to-face convo. But I’m dying to know. Are you and TJ trying on coupledom?”
“Cautiously optimistic at this time. I’m meeting him at Marcus Aurelius in a few minutes.”
“Too bad he didn’t choose Catullus,” she murmurs.
“Why?”
“Sorry, sociologist mode here.” She grins. “Marcus Aurelius was a brilliant general and a stoic philosopher. I love his quotes about personal strength, but Catullus was a poet-philosopher. In Catullus 5, he wrote an ode about love. There’s a part about a thousand kisses. It’s beautiful. And romantic as hell.” She sighs.
“Good to know since I’m off to meet TJ in front of the stoic one,” I tease.
“He probably picked the most popular plinth.” Faith winks at me. “I’m glad you two are hanging out. Keep me posted.”
“I will.”
Walking by Celles Cellars and the Hugill House dorms on my way to the administration building, I realize I forgot to grab a water in The Canteen. Ugh. The Domus rooftop rises up behind the other two residential buildings. Tiago’s dorm Ludus—for students playing sports at Fortis—is closest to the colosseum. And not a single opening among them. I stop by every week hoping a space becomes available.
Eyeful (Gladiators of the Gridiron Book 2) Page 22
