They didn’t hold Spencer’s attention for long, though, because it was snagged by the woman at the front of the room. Wow. “Why don’t you guys grab a few mats out of that closet back there and have a seat here in front of me.” She pointed toward the storage area in the back.
Before Spencer could move, a voice said quietly behind her, “That’s not the chick on the website.”
Spencer turned to meet the soft blue eyes of a woman much shorter and plumper than she was.
“Hi. I’m Lucy.” The woman held out her hand.
“Spencer. Nice to meet you.” They shook, and by unspoken agreement, walked to the storage area to grab mats.
“I don’t know about you, but that woman on the website totally freaked me out.” Lucy handed Spencer a rolled-up mat, then grabbed one for herself.
“Oh, God, me too!” Spencer said in hushed tones. “I had a nightmare.”
Lucy’s laugh was big and brash and Spencer liked it immediately, but they had no more time for discussion as they sat, because the woman stood in front of them and commanded their attention without saying a thing.
She was stunning. It was an assessment Spencer came to instantly. She wasn’t tall—maybe five-five—but she seemed it. And she wasn’t a walking muscle like the Fitness Nazi had seemed to be. She was just…fit. Lean and strong-looking, but still feminine and soft. She wore form-fitting black workout pants and black-and-purple Nikes. Her T-shirt also clung to her body, but not in a look-how-tight-my-shirt-is kind of way. More like a this-shirt-was-made-for-this-body kind of way, and Spencer appreciated it. The woman’s hair was dark and barely skimmed her shoulders, and she kept both sides tucked behind her ears. And her eyes…God, when Spencer saw the blue of them, the way they stood out, she couldn’t look away. She was mesmerized, and her brain suddenly threw her images of the very naughty things she’d like to do with this woman. Spencer felt herself blush, felt the instant rush of heat to her face, wondered if anybody else noticed. She hoped not. She was in a brides class, for God’s sake.
“Okay,” their gorgeous instructor said, as she stood before them. “Welcome to the Be Your Best Bride class. As you can see, I am not Kara Laughlin. Unfortunately, she’s ill and I’ll be running the class. I hope that isn’t a problem for anybody.” She paused, gave them time to protest before continuing. “I’ll tell you a little about myself, and then you’ll introduce yourselves. We’re going to be together three times a week for the next twelve weeks, so we should get to know each other a bit.” She smiled and Spencer felt a little flutter in her belly. Oh, yeah. Serious crush vibes happening here. “My name is Rebecca McCall and I’ve been a fitness instructor for almost ten years now. I’ve been at BodyFit for about five.” She took a few steps one way, then turned and did the same in the other direction. Slowly, meandering, as if the words she was saying were scrawled on the floor and she was finding them as she went. “I don’t believe in whipping you into shape.” Rebecca stopped then and made eye contact with each of the five women. She held Spencer’s as she said, “I believe in controlled, planned workouts that shape the entire body, that make your heart strong and your body strong.”
The woman from the locker room, the one in the orange top, shot her hand into the air and asked, “What if I want to focus on a certain body part? Like, I want my hips to be smaller before my wedding day.”
Spencer watched as Rebecca McCall seemed to stare for a beat before responding. “Okay, so there’s no such thing as spot-toning. You can’t work on one thing without working on others. What we do will tone all of you.”
“But we’ll lose weight, right?” Yellow Shirt asked, jumping in, obviously not satisfied with Rebecca’s response.
“You might. You might not.” Rebecca held up a hand as Orange Shirt opened her mouth. “Muscle weighs more than fat. So, while you will be in better shape at the end of our twelve weeks, you may not weigh any less. You won’t mind, though. I promise you. Weight is only a number. I want you to throw your scales away. Or at least stay off them. Fitness is about how you feel.” Orange Shirt looked skeptical, but that seemed to pacify her, at least for the time being, and Rebecca went on. “How about we go around, introduce ourselves, and tell a little bit about why we’re here and what we hope to achieve?”
Orange Shirt, of course, shot her hand up and started speaking, her dark ponytail bouncing as she turned her head from side to side to look at each of them. “Hi, I’m Brittany Hughes. I’m getting married on November thirteenth to my awesome fiancé, Brian.”
Brian and Brittany. Well, that’s ridiculously cute.
“My best friend, Ally, took this class, but with the other teacher, and she said it kicked her ass until she was able to fit into a dress two sizes smaller than she originally thought.”
Yellow Shirt gave a happy little gasp as the third woman in a blue shirt clapped with her fingers only.
“So, as I already said, I’d like to slim down these ballooning hips and leave Brian speechless when I walk down the aisle.”
“Oh, my God,” Yellow Shirt scoffed. “Your hips are so not ballooning.” She waved a dismissive hand at Brittany. “Hi. I’m Bella Templeton. I am also getting married in November to my wonderful fiancé, Dylan. We’ve been together for five years now, so it’s about time we had a wedding.” Spencer watched as Bella rolled her eyes good-naturedly, then toyed with a chunk of her blond bob. “I’ve been feeling pretty out of shape lately, so, like Brittany here…” She laid a hand on Brittany’s shoulder as if they were old friends. “I’d like to fit into my dress without having to fast for three days first, and I’d like to make Dylan’s eyes bug out of his head.” Bella then dissolved into a fit of girlish giggles.
Spencer was pretty sure she noticed Rebecca trying not to roll her eyes.
On Spencer’s left, Lucy spoke next. “I’m Lucy Schubert-soon-to-be-Schwartz. From one German name to another.” She laughed that big sound again and Spencer smiled next to her. “I’ve always been a little chubby, and while I don’t really expect that to change, I’d like to make an effort to get myself a little healthier. For my wedding, yes, but for life, too.” A sheepish expression suddenly settled on her face and she glanced down at her folded hands in her lap.
“I guess I’m next,” Spencer said. “My name is Spencer Thompson. We don’t have an exact date because it’s just going to be a courthouse thing. But we’ve talked about January, so a bit later than you guys.” She tossed a glance toward Brittany and Bella. “My fiancée signed me up for a gym membership and this class and surprised me. I guess she thinks I need to get into better shape before we get married, so…here I am.” Any other words she might have had evaporated in her head when she looked up at Rebecca and saw a flash of—what was it? Disbelief? Disappointment? Sympathy?—cross her features.
“I’m Willow Becker,” said the last woman in the room, and Spencer was grateful to escape the focus. Willow was a brunette, her long hair in a braid down her back. “I’m getting married in early December, and my fiancé has no idea I’m here.” She gave Spencer a friendly bump with her shoulder. “Just wanted to do something good for myself.”
Rebecca seemed very pleased with Willow’s words, and for a quick few seconds, Spencer found herself to be inexplicably jealous.
“Thank you, and I’m really glad you’re all here.” Rebecca started up the slow pacing again. “Here’s the plan. We’re going to use a combination of cardio, weights, and other exercises to give you an entire body workout. You’ll be here three days a week for the next twelve weeks, so that gives us plenty of time. Now.” She held up a finger. “You may not all be doing the same things. We’ll start out together, but as we progress, I’ll be watching each of you and deciding what works best for your individual needs. For example, some of you may need more core work while others may need to build muscle. You’ll all gain strength, though, regardless. And you’ll all be making your heart stronger, which is the most important aspect of exercise.” Rebecca tapped her own chest with a finger. �
��Keeping that ticker in good shape so you have a long life with the person you’re about to marry.” A half grin tugged at one corner of her mouth and then she clapped once. “Okay. Let’s see what you’ve got. Follow me.”
Not quite two hours later, Spencer stood in her own shower at home, letting the scalding water pound on her shoulders. She was exhausted and already a little bit sore. Her muscles were likely to be screaming tomorrow. Rebecca McCall had put them through the wringer, testing each of her five clients to see where their strengths and weaknesses lay. After an hour with the Be Your Best Bride class, Spencer was pretty sure she had zero strengths. Not a single one. Only weaknesses.
She had just finished drying herself off when her phone rang and the screen said it was a call from Jennifer Kowalski, Spencer’s coworker and friend for the past few years. Pretty sure she was still sweating, Spencer fell backward onto her bed naked and spread her arms and legs out in an attempt to cool off. She hit the answer button on her phone.
“Hey.”
“And?” Jennifer asked, getting right to it. “How’d it go?”
Spencer groaned.
“That good, huh?”
“I think I might be dead.”
“You’re not. How was the Fitness Nazi? Everything you hoped for and more?”
“No, it wasn’t even her. She got sick or something, so this other woman took over the class. Super hot, but also super tough.”
“Yeah? That’s good, though, right?”
Spencer told Jennifer about the other people in the class, the speech Rebecca had given. “Then she wanted to see what kind of shape we were all in.”
“Fun times.”
“Yeah, not at all. She put me on this thing that’s not quite a treadmill, but not really an elliptical, and it took every ounce of concentration I had to keep myself pushing the pedal thingies forward instead of backward. I felt like an idiot. I mean, seriously, how hard is it to go forward?”
Jennifer’s laughter came through the phone. “Did you fall off?”
“Shockingly, no.”
“Then you did good. Bet you burned some calories.”
“I guess. I wasn’t on it for that long because then we had to lift some weights and do push-ups and a plank, which almost killed me, and the hour I was there felt like seven. And I think the instructor hates me.”
“She does not. She’s supposed to be hard on you. It’s her job. And here’s the good news: that was the hardest it will be. From here on out, you’ll only get stronger.”
Spencer scoffed. “Of course you say that. You’ve been working out since you were, like, six.”
“Who else is in the class?”
“There are five of us, total. Me, a couple of girls that seem nice, and a couple who seem like mean girls.”
“You always manage to find the mean girls, Spence.”
Spencer could hear the humor in Jennifer’s tone. “They find me.”
“You go back on Wednesday?”
“If I decide to, yes.”
Jennifer paused for a second or two, then said, “You know what I think?”
“No, but I bet you’re going to tell me.”
“Damn right I am. I think you should go back. I think you should go to every one of those classes. For you. Not for Marti. For you.” When they’d spoken over the weekend, Jennifer had made it clear what she thought of Marti signing Spencer up for the class without asking her first. Her opinion had included several swear words, and most of them began with F. “It never hurts to be fit, Spence. To be strong.”
“I know.” Spencer blew out a breath. “The reality is, I may not be able to move by Wednesday.”
Jennifer chuckled. “At least think about it. I think it’d be good for you.”
“I promise I will think about it.”
They spoke about a few more mundane topics, then hung up, knowing they’d see each other at work the next day and could pick things up then. Spencer dropped the phone and returned to what she’d been doing before she answered: nothing. As she lay sprawled on the bed and finally started to feel cooler, she flashed back to Rebecca McCall. To her face, her eyes, her hands. Spencer had watched her a lot, had felt utterly drawn to her. Just a crush, she’d told herself the entire time. Just a little crush. Besides, once they’d introduced themselves, Rebecca had barely looked at her. Well, not in her eyes, anyway. She’d focused on Spencer’s legs, her arms, her torso. Whatever she’d been testing and evaluating. Apparently, Spencer’s face didn’t make the cut.
“Fine with me,” she mumbled into her empty bedroom. “It’ll be less embarrassing every time I can’t do something if I don’t have to look her in the eye.”
At least she didn’t have to worry about it for two days.
* * *
“Good work, Ty,” Rebecca said to her client, who’d just finished up his final reps of the day. “I see a lot of improvement.”
Ty nodded, and his face broke into a grin of satisfaction. “Thanks. Feels good. Thursday?”
Rebecca nodded. “See you then.” Ty headed for the locker room as Rebecca put away the equipment they’d used for his session. It was seven o’clock on Tuesday evening, and the yoga class had just finished up, judging by the number of yoga-clothes-clad women filing down the hall toward the stairs as Rebecca waited for an opening in the flow of people.
“Hey.” Sherry was the last one, a white towel draped over her shoulders.
“Hi.” Rebecca walked next to her, both on their way to their offices. “Good class?”
“Full.”
“Not unusual.”
Their desks butted up to each other and Sherry flopped down into her chair. “Long day for me. You?”
Rebecca tilted her head back and forth. “Not too bad. I had a cancellation, so ended up with a free hour.”
Sherry sat forward suddenly, forearms on the desk as Rebecca drank from her water bottle. “Hey, how did the bride class go? I haven’t seen you since. Any bridezillas?”
“Not really.” Rebecca thought back to the previous night’s class. “A couple with that make-me-skinny attitude, but the other three seemed fine. Although there was one…” Rebecca sighed and shook her head. “Her fiancée signed her up for the class.”
Sherry furrowed her brow. “After they’d talked about it?”
“I don’t think so. She said she surprised her.”
“She? Her fiancée’s a she?”
“Yes! Which makes it worse, if you ask me.”
“Oh, women body-shaming other women. My favorite.”
“Right? Who does that to somebody they love?”
“Does she need it?” Sherry’s grimace and slight hesitation told Rebecca it wasn’t a question she’d ask just any staff member at the gym.
Rebecca called Spencer’s face up in her mind’s eye, her body. She was beautiful. She really was. Rebecca couldn’t deny that. There was something…magnetic about her. “No, not really. I mean, she could use a bit of toning. She’s not terribly strong and her stamina could use some work, but she’s not unhealthy. She just doesn’t move enough.”
“Like eighty percent of the rest of the country.”
“Exactly.”
“So, she plays on your team. She cute?” Sherry raised one eyebrow in a lame attempt to look mischievous.
“I am not answering that,” Rebecca said, with a laugh. She is. Very.
Sherry tossed her a wink and a wave. “See you tomorrow.”
Rebecca watched her go, then turned her gaze to the windows by her desk. BodyFit was fairly populated but would start to clear out in the next hour, folks who made their after-work or after-dinner stops finishing up their workouts. As she watched the bustle of activity below her, Rebecca reflected on Sherry’s question.
Spencer Thompson was cute, though that wasn’t really the word Rebecca would use. She was more…pretty. Femininely attractive. Her blond hair had some curl to it, even in a ponytail, and her blue eyes were big, softly expressive. Physically, she’d caught Reb
ecca’s eye immediately. Unfortunately, she came across as a bit passive, a characteristic that tended to drive Rebecca a little nuts, considering her family history, and that lost Spencer points. Big ones. She also had a bit of a self-deprecating sense of humor that Rebecca had gotten a tiny glimpse of, and an odd sense of protection had come along with it. Rebecca didn’t like Spencer mocking herself. She wasn’t sure what to do with that and tried to shake it away, move her thoughts to other things.
Later, at home, Spencer was still taking up a small amount of space in the back of Rebecca’s mind. Unsure why—and needing it to stop—Rebecca decided to combat it by checking the two dating sites she’d signed up on, thanks to prodding by both Sherry and Nick—and Nick’s wife, Michelle, who was gentler than Nick in her approach, but still.
Rebecca hadn’t signed on in a few days, and as she sat down and opened her laptop, Veruca Salt hopped up into her lap for some attention and scratches on her white kitty head.
“Ready, Ruke?” Rebecca asked. “You know how much we love being subjected to entirely new levels of ego-bruising. Yay for dating sites!”
Veruca yawned widely, then began kneading Rebecca’s thighs—a painful process given the thin workout pants she still wore.
“Okay, what have we got?” The first site had three matches and a message waiting for her. “Look at that, Ruke, three matches and three profiles with no pictures. Delete, delete, delete.” Rebecca and Michelle had had endless debates about this, Michelle being of the you-could-be-deleting-your-soul-mate-just-because-you-can’t-see-her argument. Rebecca was of the I-need-there-to-be-at-least-some-kind-of-physical-attraction-first argument.
The message was riddled with misspellings and grammatical errors, and that was all Rebecca needed to delete that as well.
“Am I too harsh, Veruca? Too judgmental?” Rebecca pressed her lips together in a thin line as she signed out of one site, signed in to the other, and had much the same luck. There was one woman, though, who’d messaged her a couple days ago. Her profile photo was pleasing—light brown hair, big brown eyes, a nice smile. Her profile said she was a first-grade teacher and was looking for somebody to hang with, maybe more.
The Shape of You Page 3
