I nod.
“Go grab your jacket and we’ll go for our walk.”
I’m halfway to the kitchen before I turn and look back at him. “Luke?” He lifts his eyes to mine. “Thank you for my tree.”
He doesn’t say anything, but smiles and my belly flips. I hurry on to the kitchen and pull on my coat. I need to be smart about my feelings toward Luke, logical. He is attractive; therefore, any attraction to him is simply a rational reaction and not anything more.
He, also, in all of our interactions, appears to be a nice person. It is not unreasonable to like a nice person as their very nature makes them likeable.
I’m completely within the bounds of reasonable to be attracted to an attractive person and to like a likeable person, just not in my house. Relief is an immediate sensation when, upon reentering the living room, I see Luke already has the door open to exit.
As I approach him, I slow when I realize he isn’t moving. Oh, God, I think he plans to hold the door open for me. That means I’ll have to walk very close to him to pass him. His nice guy tendencies are making me uncomfortable.
Filling my lungs with air as I pass, I’m befuddled by his scent and have to remind myself of the concept of one foot in front of the other when it comes to walking. I need to know what he’s wearing. I want to bathe in it. Is it cologne, an aftershave, his deodorant, or just the way he smells?
We perform an awkward shuffle on my front step, as I make sure my house is locked. It’s strange having someone hold my own door open for me. As if he senses my need for space, Luke moves to wait for me on the sidewalk. Last time we left my house, he walked ahead of me and I followed, but on our way back, I walked next to him which, given the way he seems to be waiting for me, possibly set a precedent.
My house isn’t connected on either side to my neighbors, but the lack of yard space leaves little room between our houses. Each house also boosts a small strip of grass between our doorways and the sidewalk. Thankfully, the outdoor spaces in our development are maintained as part of our homeowners association fees.
It’s on this strip of grass that I walk to increase the distance between Luke and me. He appears not to have noticed but does seem to be walking smack dab in the middle of the sidewalk. Is he trying to walk closer to me?
Focus, Lindsay.
How are you going to find out nonchalantly what makes him smell the way he does? Could I ask him under the guise of needing recommendations for a post on what to get the man in your life for the holidays? Sasha would be too suspicious so there’s no way I can ask her without it being blown out of proportion.
There’s a jogger already on the track and I freeze on the path. It’s a woman, bundled like us, wires visible from her ears as she listens to something while she jogs. She is a stranger, an unknown, and a person who may try to interact with me.
“You okay?” Luke asks.
Shrugging, I don’t reply. I haven’t evaluated the situation enough to decide if I’m okay or not. I’m uncomfortable but not distressed, or overly distressed, that is. Because she is a woman and she seems to be listening to something are the only reasons I haven’t turned around to retreat. I have less than five months until the reunion.
If I can’t walk on the same track as another human being, how will I stand in a ballroom with a hundred? Taking a step forward I focus on Luke’s presence next to me. Without drinks in our hands, we start to jog. There’s enough distance between the woman jogger and us that she doesn’t pass us for a few laps.
The sound of her feet hitting the dirt path, coming closer and closer behind me is almost nausea inducing. It wasn’t until after she passed us and I unclenched, that I realized how tense she made me. As we neared the path away from the field and back toward my house, Luke surprised me by moving that way.
Not up to arguing, I’m relieved. He waits on the sidewalk as I move to stand in front of my door.
“Why did we stop early?” My curiosity gets the better of me.
“The true test today was how you reacted to the other jogger. You didn’t run away.”
“I didn’t hold hands with her either,” I point out.
One corner of his mouth tilts up. “Did you want to?” He points over his shoulder. “She’s probably still there.”
I glower at him which, nice guy that he is, he laughs it off.
“See you Tuesday for your next web session.”
He starts to walk to his car door but I stop him. “Thank you again for my tree.”
“It was my pleasure.”
“Wait.” I hold up my hand. “I have something for you.”
There’s no way I can give him the leather jacket I bought for him, but I do have the embroidered leash and collar set I got for Loki. It’s in my spare bedroom. I possibly went overboard wrapping it.
It’s been so long since I’ve given someone a gift. The box I used was bigger than necessary but I needed more square footage for the ribbons. It’s no equal to the gift he gave me, but at least I’m not empty handed.
“Here.” I’m off my front step and thrusting the box into his hands.
“Should I open it?” he asks.
“No, no, no. Just, Merry Christmas.”
I’m back through my door, locking it behind me before he has a chance to answer. Through the blinds of my front window, I watch him stand there, his eyes still on my door. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down before he turns, and opens his car door. He sets the gift on the passenger seat.
I watch as he pulls away. If I was normal or brave, maybe I could have asked him to stay. I’m neither, though.
Over the past couple of months, I’ve made no headway in getting closer to Lindsay. She sent me pics of the tree I got her but that was the closest I’ve come to being inside her house again. Tomorrow, I leave for California and I don’t know if she’ll even miss me. She attacks all of her workouts but still keeps me at arm’s length.
I thought I was getting somewhere when she got me a Christmas present, but I was wrong. Her gift was great; I walk Loki twice a day and think of Lindsay every time I clip on the leash she bought. It’s not as if I needed another reason to think about her. I’ve got that covered all on my own.
Does she even think of me? Outside of the gift she got, which is technically more for my dog than for me. Other than that one gift, am I on her mind? This trip to California has me obsessing. It’s hard for me to ask point blank if she’ll leave her house without me while I’m gone. She hasn’t reached her goal weight, but with all of the muscle she has been building, she looks amazing.
I’m attracted to everything about her, her cautious smile, her long blonde hair, and ice blue eyes. I want to make her melt. Every Saturday, we walk or jog side by side. I ache to touch her; I want to find out if her creamy skin is as soft as it looks. There are times when our arms have almost touched.
Given the weather, even if our arms had brushed it would have been jacket to jacket. Knowing it’ll be t-shirt weather when I get back gives me hope. That’s the only thing though. Any conversations I’ve had with the producers about access to the internet while I’m on location have dissolved.
At this point, I won’t know for certain until I’m out there. Depending on cell towers, I’ll FaceTime from my phone if I have to. The times might be off our regular schedule depending on filming, but I plan to stick to twice a week if I can.
A knock has me turning toward my door, and then a glance at my cable box to confirm the time. Sasha is housesitting for me to take care of Loki while I’m gone. She’s here now to take me to the airport.
“You’re early.”
“Couldn’t wait to take over my new digs.” She grins, pulling a suitcase behind her.
Loki rolls over onto his back as Sasha approaches him. His tongue falls out of his mouth as she rubs his belly.
“You get him all worked up and we’ll need to walk him again before we go.”
“You hear that, Loks,” she coos, ignoring me. “I’m going to walk you as soo
n as I get back, so we can play some more.”
“His food is in a bin in—”
“The pantry,” she finishes for me. “Come on, Luke, I know where you keep everything. Besides, if I have any questions, I can always text you.”
Pulling her into a headlock, I give her a quick noogie. “You’re lucky I love you even though you’re a pain in my ass sometimes.”
She pushes away from me, swatting at my chest before she smoothes her hair. “You’re welcome.”
I grab the strap of my duffle and slip it over my shoulder. “Thank you, Sash.”
She tries to pump me for information on Lindsay as she drives me to the airport. I’m not falling for it though. If she wants to gossip she’ll need to go right to the source. Lindsay is so private; I’m not making the mistake of talking about her again.
The drive to the airport is reasonably quick. We love each other, but it isn’t like I’m going to be gone that long, so after a hug at the curb Sasha takes off. She did make me promise to text her when I landed. I have to stop over in Chicago on my way to Cali.
I’m flying in to LAX. A car is picking me up from there and taking me to the ranch where the show is filmed. The show premiered a month ago. I wrestled with the idea of watching it, to familiarize myself with the contestants, but decided against it. I didn’t want any Hollywood editing to skew my opinion on any of them.
I’ve seen enough of the show to have a basic understanding of how everything works. At this point in the competition, the contestants are split into three groups. The show has three full time, celebrity trainers that are there the entire season.
At the halfway point, to mix things up, they invite three guest trainers to assist. One of the current full time trainers was one of the guest trainers last year. I won’t find out whom they were pairing me up with until tomorrow. After a day of airport travel, I’m surprised to see the cameras rolling when I hit baggage claim.
I had thought they wouldn’t start filming until tomorrow. I was wrong. Turns out, they want the surprise reaction of the guest trainers meeting each other. I suppose to a certain extent we’re in competition with each other as well. Or they are, if their end goal is to get on the show full time.
Me, I want to build a name for myself back home and bring new clients to the gym. Gigi, the first trainer I meet, seems only to be worried about getting as much airtime as possible. She lives in LA and exudes celebrity trainer from her pores, if she has pores. Does Botox erase them?
While we wait for the next guest trainer to land, she alternates between hitting on me to trying to prove her balls are bigger than mine. I didn’t have a strategy of how I would be on camera before now. Considering the fact she won’t shut up, it’s safe to say I’m going for the strong, silent type image.
She flips when we’re introduced to the last guest trainer, Hector. He smirks. Turns out, they used to date. This should be awkward. She refuses to sit next to him in the car so a producer ends up giving up her seat so Gigi can sit in the front passenger seat.
Doesn’t stop her from turning around to insult Hector the entire ride to the ranch. When she tries hitting on me again, this time in front of him, he ignores it, rolling his eyes, and looks out the window instead.
It’s clear why they were cast, drama. That’s not my thing. Glancing at my watch, I’m already wishing time away. That impulse is useless, a wasted emotion. Time is fixed; no amount of hope sent in its direction will make it move faster.
The rest of the drive to the ranch is in silence. Both Hector and Gigi busy themselves with their phones; Hector going the extra mile by putting earbuds in as well. Leaning my head back against the door, I doze until the SUV stops.
There are multiple buildings on the ranch, the gym, the residence for the contestants, and a residence for the crew, and one for the trainers. The full time trainers all have places off the ranch as well. This building is only a crash pad for them if shooting runs late. For us guest trainers, for the next month, it’s our home.
Sheer luck is on my side when we pick rooms and I manage to get a corner room. Hector snags the one across the hall and Gigi is left with the one next to mine. We’re given enough time to drop off our bags before we’re needed in the main living area. Here we’re told which full time trainer we’re going to be partnered up with for the next month.
There are three possible choices. The first is Jarrett, former Navy Seal ironman who moonlights as a Hollywood stunt double. Next is Frankie, the veteran trainer to the stars since season one; one of his first famous clients is now his husband, causing a huge scandal at the time as there weren’t that many public same sex relationships ten years ago. Lastly, Vivica is a former wrestling vixen who was the guest trainer last year.
The only trainer I’m leery about being paired up with is Jarrett. Our training styles are as different as night and day. Intimidating my clients isn’t how I do things. The cameras are rolling by the time we’re back downstairs. Justine Davis, the host, is here to surprise us with what they’re calling a random selection.
Hector, Gigi, and I are lined up behind a curtain. We’re blindfolded and given noise-canceling headphones. Before we put the headphones on, we’re told by a producer that once the camera is on we will find out which trainer we’re paired with when they tap on our shoulder. That is when we’re supposed to take off the headphones, blindfold, and turnaround.
I’m the first to go. Being in an unfamiliar place, blindfolded and unable to hear anything sucks. I have no indication of how long I will be like this and since cameras are rolling, it isn’t as if I can ask. The only thing keeping me from being completely uncomfortable is I don’t have to move around.
Standing still without being able to see or hear is disorienting enough. It’s strange, not being able to hear. I find myself straining in an attempt to. I was so focused I nearly jumped when I felt a firm tap on my shoulder. Pulling my headphones and blindfold off as I turn, I’m relieved to see Frankie standing behind me.
“Hey, man.” I reach out my hand to shake his. “It’s nice to meet you.”
He pulls me into a hug, thumping me on the back. “Looking forward to working with you.”
He hands me a black t-shirt, which I change into, on camera. Then we stand side by side and wave to the camera while the host, Justine, comes over to ask how we each feel about the pairing.
“I’ve been a fan of Frankie’s since season one,” I confess. “He’s a great trainer and I hope to learn a lot from him.”
“Hopefully, you can teach this old dog some new tricks, too,” Frankie adds.
After another couple of questions, our part of the filming is done. We have to wait while the director and his assistant review what was filmed, in case any of it needs to be filmed again because of lighting or to get a different camera angle. After we’re told they don’t need another take, we are sent to wait on the back deck for the group shot.
Part of me knew this was coming, the cameras, the crew, but nothing prepared me for what it was in real life.
“You didn’t want to see the take?” Frankie asks, once we’re alone.
“Was I supposed to?” I glance back toward the door we came out.
“Most of the other guest trainers I’ve been paired up with wanted to make sure they looked good in each shot,” he explains.
I shrug. “Not sure how I’d fix it if I did look bad.”
He laughs. “You haven’t taken any acting lessons?”
Shaking my head, I raise a brow. “Was I supposed to?”
His eyes rest on mine for a beat before ignoring my question. Then he asks, “What’s your goal for coming onto to the show?”
“Build my client base back home. Learn what I can while I’m at it.”
He nods. “Where’s home?”
“Raleigh, North Carolina.”
His jaw drops.
It takes a moment for him to recover. “I was expecting you to say Los Angeles.”
“Why would you think that?”
“I don’t watch much TV unless it’s college basketball,” I admit.
“Tell me more about your background.” He motions me toward a table with two chairs. “What did you do before personal training?”
“During college, I waited tables and did yard work till I got my degree. After that, once I got a job at a local gym, I stopped landscaping but kept waiting tables while I built up my client base. I’m also a nutritionist.”
“Is that what you went to school for?”
I nod. “Yes, sir. My mom’s still ticked I didn’t stay pre-med.”
He laughs. “So you aren’t here trying to get famous?”
My expression seems to be answer enough for him.
He punches me in the shoulder. “Stick close to me kid. I’ll keep the vultures away.”
Our conversation dies once Gigi and Jarrett join us on the deck. So, it seems Hector and Vivica will be the final pair up.
I can’t help but laugh after we hear Gigi ask Jarrett if she looked all right during their take. Glancing at Frankie is a bad idea. His eyes are wide as his expression says, ‘told you.’
It’s not long before we’re all on the back deck, and then moved to a grassy part of the yard in front of the gym for a group shot with our host. Jarrett and Hector seem to be in a staring contest, which is funny considering how hard Gigi is trying to get Jarrett’s attention. Once the group shot is done, we’re taken to meet our teams.
Since we’re joining halfway into the season, the contestants are down from twenty-two to eleven. Vivica’s team and Frankie’s team each have four members left and Jarrett’s has three. It’s embarrassing, but after meeting so many new people today, I struggle to remember the names of the contestants in my group.
There are three women, two brunettes and one with gray hair, and a bald man. Prior to the show, they had never met, but you can tell just by their body language how close they have become. They stand close together, no one talks over or interrupts the other, and they make eye contact while they speak.
Yesterday's Half Truths Page 14
