by Linda Verji
Olivia didn’t know whether to thank her or to apologize for being who she was, so she kept quiet.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Nikki let the conversation drift into silence. Olivia was just starting to relax when Nikki asked, “Have you talked to him since I let you know?”
Immediately images of Tay doubled over in pain crowded into Olivia’s thoughts. But she doubted that was what Nikki meant. Or maybe she meant last night’s messages? She thought of telling Nikki about them but a sudden thought struck her, what if the woman’s blasé attitude was a cover, and she was really hurting inside? Olivia didn’t want to cause her any more hurt, so she lied, “No, I haven’t.”
“Don’t lie to me.” Nikki’s green-eyed gaze was piercing as she announced, “I checked his car’s GPS and saw that it’s parked at your building.”
“That’s only because I broke all his windows,” Olivia confessed even though her mind was tottering with the knowledge that Nikki knew where she lived. She offered, “I’ve still got his keys at my place. I can bring them for you.”
Nikki’s eyes widened. “You broke all his windows?”
Olivia shrugged then remembering that the two were married and thus shared expenses, her expression turned sheepish. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“No, don’t apologize.” Nikki mumbled, “I wonder how he’ll explain that to me.”
This conversation was about an eleven out of ten on the awkward scale. Olivia wanted to offer some stupid excuse, apologize again then run screaming for the hills. But something kept her glued to the spot.
“What about the messages he sent you last night?” asked Nikki.
She knew about the messages? Talk about sniper surveillance. This woman would make Lex so proud. Olivia said, “I didn’t reply any of them.”
Nikki stared at Olivia as if trying to read duplicity in her expression then she gave her a half-smile. “Thank you for being honest with me.” Her glance switched to the clock above the glass wall. She gasped, “Oh, look at the time.” She bent to pick her water-bottle. “I have a meeting with my daughter’s teacher in an hour.”
Wait! What?
“Bye, Liv.” Nikki rushed out leaving Olivia reeling from her latest revelations.
Not one child. Two children.
CHAPTER 10
As if dealing with Nikki wasn’t enough torture for one day, Olivia was prepping for her seven p.m. session when Marcel strode into the studio.
Noooo, she mentally groaned as she watched him strut to the window and set his water-bottle and towel on the sill. Why is he here? Judging by the black t-shirt, flint gray gym shorts and sneakers, it was obvious by that he was here to workout. But why? Marcel turned to survey the studio, his glance cruising over the other clients as if searching for something.
He’s searching for me. Her eyes narrowing, she leaned against the wall and waited for him to find her. He finally did and their eyes locked. Immediate voltaic tension zapped through the distance separating them.
Olivia lifted her brow. What are you doing here?
His answer was a tilt of his lips. What did that crooked smile mean?
Like I care. Olivia kissed her teeth as she straightened from the wall. She turned her back to his smile and picked up the tablet that connected to the speakers surrounding the studio. Swiping her fingers over the tablet’s screen, she browsed through the various files to find a playlist upbeat enough for today’s session.
As she clicked her way to her favorite playlist, it occurred to her that now that he was in her class he was under her control. She had the power to wipe that smug smile off his face and exact some revenge. An evil grin bloomed on her face. Oh, Marcel, Marcel, Marcel. By the time she was done with him, he’d limp out of her gym and never, ever come back again.
It was hard not to rub her palms in wicked anticipation as she pressed play on the tablet then turned to her class.
“All right everybody. Looking good, looking good.” She jogged to the front of the class. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah!” The class yelled, whooped and started jogging too. “Woooo.”
“You know what day it is,” Olivia shouted. “Forty five minutes of pure fun. Are we good, everybody?”
Their excited screams of, “Yeah,” were her red-light to begin the torture.
Barely seventeen minutes later, Olivia had turned those excited whoops into tortured whimpers, panting and groans.
“Oh, Jesus,” Chang, one of her best students, gasped as he sprinted on the spot. “My quads are burning.”
“Doesn’t matter. You can still push. Push, push, faster, faster,” Olivia shrieked by his ear. “Two, one. Get down, get down for your push ups. Eight, seven…” She moved over to Angela, crouched low and pushed on the sweat-drenched lady’s back. “Six, five. Don’t lock up those elbows, Angie, three, two, one. Good.”
She stood up to survey the rest of the class. “Everybody get up, get up, for your sprints. Ten seconds. Nine, eight…”
It was no surprise to find her newer clients sneaking in some rests and pretending to need water in between their press-ups. What was a surprise was seeing Marcel keeping up with her pros. He should’ve been on his back right now, gasping for breath, lungs burning and every muscle aching for relief. Instead, he was toe to toe with Nigel, the personal trainer, working his body up and down like a well-tuned machine and taking his punishment like a soldier.
Please, Olivia snorted internally. We’re only seventeen minutes in. By thirty he’ll be crawling on his knees.
Thirty minutes later Marcel was still on his feet, doing ski downs and looking as strong as someone who’d entered the class a minute ago.
“Take a break if you need to. Remember we’re not trying to die. We’re trying to get fitter,” Olivia encouraged the class. But she was really talking to Marcel. Please take a break so I can celebrate how much of a wuss you are.
She smiled when Marcel stopped mid-exercise. But his pause was only so he could fling off his t-shirt then he was back to ski-downs. Gah! The man was so irritating. Why couldn’t he be a weakling?
“One-legged squats, eight, seven, six…” she drilled as she patrolled the class. She stopped by every participant, encouraging them. Well, every participant but Marcel. She was not going anywhere near him. Oh, no!
Not that that kept her from throwing furtive glances his way once in a while. There was no denying that the man looked good with his shirt on and off. His well-built chest gleamed with perspiration, beads of moisture trickling over his torso’s defined tendons. His arms, thighs and chest rippled with each machine-like movement in rhythm to the swaying of the dog-tag dangling from his strong neck. He was mesmerizing.
Olivia dabbed at the moisture between her boobs and licked her upper lip as she watched him. And immediately caught herself. Hell no! This was Marcel. She was not hot for him. Any heat soaring through her body was courtesy of exercise and the animated gym atmosphere. It had nothing to do with Marcel. Nothing at all. And she was licking her upper lip because she was thirsty - for water. Not Marcel.
After class, Olivia stayed behind to welcome the new clients and chat with her regulars. Gym protocol demanded that she stop by Marcel too. But in her opinion they’d interacted enough for nine lifetimes so she ignored him. Marcel’s gaze seared into her back as she deflected another one of Nigel’s less than smooth come-ons.
“We’re not allowed to date clients,” Olivia said.
“Ah! But I’m not a client. I’m a colleague.” Nigel gestured towards his well-sculpted body draped in a tight tank-top and leggings. “Don’t you want to get with all this?”
Olivia gave his body a quick once-over evading the bulging ‘parts’ then shook her head. “You look very nice, Nigel, but I’m sorry. August defines a client as anyone who pays our membership fee. If we start dating, he’ll fire me. I’m sure you understand.”
Actually August didn’t give a rat’s ass who she dated as long as she appear
ed at her classes on time. But blaming him was easier than telling Nigel that there was no way in hell she’d date a man who as into himself as he was. For Pete’s sake the man arched his eyebrows, and she’d caught him preening for the mirror wall a couple of times. No. Just no.
“If he fires you, I’d hire you,” Nigel said just as Marcel headed their way. “Have you ever thought of…”
Olivia stopped listening to Nigel the moment Marcel edged closer. Though she kept her eyes determinedly on Nigel’s moving lips, all her awareness was tuned to Marcel. He passed close enough to her that his arm brushed hers. Immediate tingles started at the point where their skin touched and skidded into the rest of her body. Her breath caught in her throat, her body stiffened and all her senses flared to life.
She expected him to stop, to say something. Instead he passed, without even looking at her. It was only once he was out of the studio that Olivia breathed again. But with the relief came immediate irritation. Really? He couldn’t even greet her? That man was so rude.
When the studio was finally empty of all the last minute stragglers, Olivia made her way to the reception eager to pick her purse.
“Liv, could you close up for me?” Morning asked as soon as she sighted her.
“Nooo,” Olivia groaned. “I’ve been here since five a.m. I want my bed.”
“Please,” the raven-haired woman pleaded. “Diesel’s babysitter had to rush out, and I don’t have anyone to watch him.”
You’d think that someone saddled with a name like Morning would know better than to name her kid Diesel. However, despite her weird naming preferences, Morning had helped Olivia out of a couple of tough spots. Releasing a heavy sigh, Olivia gave in. “Fine. But give me a couple of minutes to shower.”
“I love you, Liv,” Morning yelled after Olivia.
Olivia’s response was a tired wave. Now that her sessions for the day were over, her body seemed to have given up on her. None of her limbs were carrying their weight. Her arms protested as she pulled her gym bag from her locker, set it on the teak bench then undressed. They whimpered when she took a few minutes to unknot her hair then spray some of her cleaning concoction on her scalp and the coiled strands. Her legs groaned as she dragged herself to one of the shower stalls.
Thick steam filled the station as she cut the shower on. She closed her eyes, letting the water’s heat soak into her body and ease its aches. Her hands smoothed over her limbs, soaping them, massaging cramped muscles and rinsing them. By the time she was done with her shower she was refreshed enough to hold down the fort.
Despite everyone knowing that nine was closing time, there were still a few last minute dawdlers lifting in the weights room. Olivia gave them a few minutes to finish their sets before she locked up.
Cool night air welcomed her as she stepped out of the building. The parking lot was deserted except for her Nismo and a black SUV. Hiking her gym bag higher up her shoulder, Olivia paced towards her car. She was a few feet from it when the door to the SUV opened and Marcel emerged.
She sighed heavily. Not you again.
She didn’t realize she’d said the words aloud until he answered coolly, “Yes, me again.”
“Whatever!” She dismissed him with a wave as she edged closer to her own car. She pressed her key, automatically opening the doors as she made for the driver side.
“Aren’t you curious about why I’m here?” Marcel asked as he crossed his car and followed her through the space separating their cars.
“No.” She opened the back door to set her gym bag on the seat.
Undaunted by her sharp tone, he leaned against her trunk. “Really?”
She raised her head at the huskiness in his tone to find him staring at her. Her response died on her lips and her mouth dried up.
The problem wasn’t that he was staring but rather how he was staring. The way his eyes trailed over her red volleyball jersey, beige short shorts and brown strappy heels was unsettling. His gaze was like invisible fingers trailing over her naked skin below, awakening her body, making her pulse jump and heating her. He touched his index finger to his lips as his eyes lingered on her breasts. Immediately an image of him setting his lips there invaded her mind.
“Stop,” she ordered her brain.
“Stop what?” Marcel’s brow furrowed in confusion.
She scrambled for a quick excuse and ended up with, “Stop messing my car up with your ugliness. Get off my trunk.”
Nice save, Livy! She gave herself a mental back pat.
Marcel was less impressed. He gave her an eyebrow raise. “I wanted to talk to you about your check.”
Her stomach tightened immediately and her heart began to hammer. “Please tell me you didn’t deposit it.”
He nodded slowly.
“No, no.” Her palms flew to her face, and she sagged against his car. “No.”
“Livy.” His deep voice wrapped around her name like a hand caressing her. “Did you give me a bad check?”
Yes. Of course, she had. With her penchant for shoes and clothes, leaving five thousand dollars in her checking account was like saying, waste me. But after the way he’d taunted her with his ‘bill’, she’d been too pissed to tell him she couldn’t come up with the money right away.
Jeez. Would the bank penalize her for writing a bad check? She was trying to save up for her own gym and couldn’t afford to have them messing with her credit score. Or maybe that wasn’t even the worst consequence. She’d heard somewhere that they could even arrest you. She couldn’t get arrested. She was too pretty to end up in there.
“Livy, Livy, Livy, you really are a bad girl,” taunted Marcel. There was something about the lack of anger in his voice that had Olivia peeling her hands from her face to look at him. He was still leaning against her trunk, hands in his pocket and a gloating smile on his face.
She narrowed her eyes and her voice was wintery as she asked, “You didn’t deposit the check, did you?”
When his grin only widened, she kissed her teeth and slammed her car’s back door. She yanked open the driver’s door so hard had it been an arm, she would’ve pulled it out of its socket. As soon as she entered the car and closed her door, Marcel moved away from her trunk.
Smart man! If he’d stayed there, she would’ve run over him without a second’s hesitation. Still steaming with anger, Olivia pressed her key into the ignition.
The car didn’t start. Instead of the expected vroom, there was a weird clicking sound.
“No, no, no. Stop playing with me.” She turned the key again. Only the odd clicking sounded met her. Of all the times for her car to start throwing a temper tantrum, it had to do it with Marcel in the area? Olivia could see him in her side mirror watching her.
“Come on, baby, that idiot’s out there. Start for mama,” she pleaded, turning the key again.
Nothing. Nada. Zilch. The stupid car was determined to embarrass her and mess up her magnificent exit. Closing her eyes and gripping her steering wheel hard, she prayed for strength. Of course Marcel chose that particular moment to tap on her window.
Tap. Tap. Tap. She opened her eyes and swiveled her head to find him giving her one of his patented eyebrow raises. She offered him a forced smile then turned her attention to her dashboard. A quick search later she found her battery tester and a flashlight.
Her door missed him by a slight inch as she exited the car. If it wasn’t for his swift movement backward, she would’ve hit him. To his credit he didn’t even sound breathless when he asked, “Do you need help?”
Ignoring him, she circled the car to its already popped hood. Her awareness of Marcel spiked when he sidled next to her, taunting her with his clean, aquatic, masculine scent.
Pretend he’s not even there, she ordered her senses. Keeping her eyes away from him, she switched on the flashlight, stuck its thin pen-like end between her teeth and turned it to the engine. She almost dropped the flashlight when Marcel angled his body closer to hers as if to check the engine. A delic
ious shiver cascaded through her when his arm brushed against hers.
It took everything to keep the flashlight steady and keep from shouting at him to move away. She refused to reveal how he affected her. As for her traitorous senses, as soon as she got home they would have a talk.
There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with her engine. But looks could be deceiving. She untangled the cables around her battery tester.
“Figures!” Marcel muttered under his breath.
Olivia shot him a silent look.
Correctly interpreting the question in her eyes, he mocked, “Figures that your tester would be blinged out like drunk stripper.”
If looks could kill, the one she sent him would’ve stripped the flesh from his bones and left him out for the vultures to feast on. In quick jerky movements she connected the tests to the battery’s terminals. Yes, her tester was hot pink and encrusted with fake diamonds. For all the work it did, it deserved some nice clothes. If he didn’t like it he could get in his car and drive away…
Or not.
The voltmeter glibly informed her that her battery was dead. She needed to jumpstart it, and the only way to do that was using another car’s battery. The only car around was Marcel’s. Marcel’s.
Wow! The hits just keep coming, don’t they? She offered the starry sky a frustrated look before plucking the flashlight from her teeth. Pasting a smile on her face, she turned to him.
Humor sparkling in his dark eyes, he drawled, “Problem, Livy?”
“Marcel.” Her voice dripped sugar, honey and everything sweet. “Could you help me jumpstart my car?”
By the wicked twitch of his smile, she thought he’d jump into his car and drive off leaving her to fend for herself. Instead he said, “You just had to ask.”
She was surprised enough that her jaw dropped.
“Close your mouth, Livy.” He chucked her chin with his finger as he chuckled. “I’m not as bad as you think.”
Still shell-shocked she watched him walk to the driver’s side of the SUV and pop both the hood and trunk. He crossed over to the trunk only to cuss. “I don’t have cables.”
