He smiles wider then shrugs. “I’m hoping that when you’re a gazillionaire from the videos you’ll remember me and toss a few dollars my way.”
I chuckle. “It’s a deal. A few dollars later and a coffee now.”
Once I’ve fetched him his coffee, I settle at the table with mine and the computer, but though I try hard I can’t get anywhere for the next half hour. Everything I say sounds stupid as I say it, and even more stupid when I watch what I’ve recorded. I hadn’t realized before how much the wine took the edge off my self-judgment and let me actually relax into making the videos, but I do now.
When the coffee is gone, so is the last of my nerve, and I go over and drop onto the couch next to Sam.
He pops out his earphones. “Done?”
“Oh, I’m done all right. Done like dinner. I can’t do it.” I shake my head. “Without wine, I suck.”
“Not a chance. Show me what you’ve done?”
“Can’t. Deleted it. Threw out the garbage.” I sigh. “Thanks for coming over, but I did waste your time. It’s just no good.”
He tips his head to one side. “It doesn’t exist any more, so we can’t know that.” He straightens up and tugs out his ponytail elastic. “Teach me.”
I blink.
“Come on. Teach me how to braid this mess.”
My disappointment and doubt battle with how sweet he’s being to still encourage me.
“Ashley. Look at this disaster.” He runs his hands through his hair, which is nearly as long as mine. “I need help. Make me look beautiful.”
I can’t hold back a giggle, and I give in. “Okay. Follow me.”
Step by step we work together, and when in the end we sport matching braids that make a heart shape on the back of our heads he says, “That was fantastic. Let’s do it again, with the camera on.”
I laugh, as I’ve been laughing throughout the process. “You want to be in the video?”
He laughs too. “You’ve got no chance of winning with my ugly mug in there. No, it should be--”
“You’re not ugly,” I say, then feel my cheeks get hot.
“Well, thanks,” he says, blushing too. “Neither are you.”
We sit blushing and smiling at each other for a moment then he says, “But you’re definitely prettier than I am, so it should be just you in the video. And you can teach me again and film yourself.”
When Will said I was pretty I felt like he was trying to get something from me, and it had turned out I was right. When Sam says it I feel like he truly means it and just wants me to know, and that feels amazing. Maybe he really is as good as he seems.
Either way, his plan is just crazy enough to work, and certainly nothing I tried worked, so I go back to my table and move one of the chairs to give him a spot to sit out of the camera’s view.
We both undo our braids, then he says, “Ready?”
I can’t speak, which probably means I’m not. I want to be ready, want to be hopeful, but that never works out for me and I don’t know if I can handle another failure.
Sam comes over and sinks down onto his good knee, keeping his bad ankle from having to hold his weight. “Do exactly what you just did. Have fun with it. I know it’s important, but have fun too. Okay?”
I clear my throat. “Okay.” Then I can’t resist reaching out and throwing my arms around his neck. “Thank you,” I mumble. “Thank you for being on my side.” Even with his injury, he’s still so worried about me.
He says, “Any time, Ashley. Any time,” as he pulls me closer, and I shut my eyes and rest my head on his strong shoulder and decide I’m going to trust him. It’s scary, but I am. I think he deserves it.
And if it turns out he doesn’t, I’ll bury him.
That thought makes me feel sad, and I push it away. We hold each other for a few more seconds, then I start to feel like we’ve been together too long even though it feels good so I pull back a bit.
He releases me at once, gives me a sweet smile, then goes back to his chair and arranges his hair over his shoulders. “Teach me, my guru.”
I laugh and start the camera, and promptly forget all about its presence because of the distraction of Sam’s. Once again I go through the process step by step, turning my back as needed to show Sam the details of the emerging braid but always turning back to see his smiling face. We burst into giggles twice, but back up a step and keep going, and once our braids are again complete I know it’ll be the best video I’ve ever done.
I shut off the camera then grin at him. “You are awesome. Thank you.”
“You’re so welcome.” He pats his nearly perfect braid. “Do I look pretty? I feel pretty.”
I giggle. “You’re a supermodel.”
“So now what?”
“Now I edit it, to get out the parts where you made me laugh--”
“You made me laugh.”
“The parts where there was laughing,” I say, smiling at him. “Then I upload it and hope for the best.”
My own words surprise me. I never hope for the best. But with Sam around, somehow I do. He makes me feel like I could succeed at anything I try.
That makes me think of Will and my so-far-unsuccessful search for him, and I say, “Hey, have you had any ideas of how to find that Will guy from the plane?”
“I have thought about it quite a bit,” he says slowly, “and there are some people search sites that might work. Want me to try them out while you edit?”
I do, so we sit at my table while I work away on my laptop editing the video and he works away on his phone hunting for Will.
I prove successful, but he does not. As I upload the finished video, after we watch it together and he pronounces it terrific, he says, “No luck, I’m afraid. But if I think of anything else I’ll let you know. Okay?”
“Thank you.” I reach out and give his muscled forearm a squeeze. “You’re the best.”
“No,” he says, pointing at the video on my screen. “That’s you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
I arrive at Billy’s other gym ten minutes before four on Friday, just like he asked me to do. Since I went in yesterday to do the paperwork I know what to expect in terms of where I’ll be working and what I’ll be doing, but I do not expect the handsome guy with the muscle-revealing tank top, sexy stubble, and the most intense blue eyes I’ve ever seen.
“Ashley!” Billy looks up from his conversation with the guy. “Welcome to your first day. This is Eric, one of our trainers.”
“Nice to meet you,” Eric says, his voice deep and full of what sounds like admiration. “It’ll be great working with you.”
We shake hands while I mumble something, and I try not to show the spark I feel when we touch. Being with Sam makes me feel warm and safe, but there’s something super-attractive about this guy. It’s hard to make myself let go of his hand.
I manage, though, and Billy says, “I’ll introduce you to everyone else, Ashley, and then I need to get out of here.”
I nod but Eric runs his hand over his close-cropped blond hair and says, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of her.”
God, I wish he would. In the months before “Stranded!” I was too busy getting ready to have any time for a boyfriend, and since then I haven’t exactly been in the mood. Will’s kisses are the only action I’ve had for nearly a year and I feel certain Eric’s would be far more amazing.
But his body is a perfect temple, and mine is more like a crumbling ruin at the moment, so I vow to get in better shape as soon as possible and smile at him and say, “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“Me too,” Billy says. “I gotta get home before the wife kills me.”
He takes off, and Eric smiles at me again and says, “So. Welcome to the madhouse.”
“Is it? A madhouse, I mean?”
He shrugs, still smiling. “I’ve seen worse. Way worse. It does get a bit crazy since Billy has the two locations, but I only work here. You?”
“Also just here,” I say, a
nd I’m glad I can when Eric’s smile widens and he says, “Then you can take care of me and I’ll take care of you. Deal?”
“I suppose.”
He laughs at the overdone pretend annoyance in my tone. “Well, it’s a deal from my side. Let’s go meet the others.”
He leads me off to where an impossibly fit woman in spandex is training an impossibly chunky one who shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near spandex, and once he’s introduced me to them both and we’re heading off to find more people he says, “Billy hired you really fast, didn’t he? I thought he only posted the job on Wednesday.”
I’ve been thinking since yesterday about whether I should tell people here about my connection with Sam, and I decided on my way over that I wouldn’t. Hugh obviously doesn’t like him, and if I get lumped in with Sam in his mind and the minds of whoever he’s friends with, I’ll get treated like dirt here just like I did at the factory. That might happen anyhow, but I don’t want to be the cause of it.
“I guess he liked my application.”
Eric smiles and shifts closer so he deliberately bumps his hip against mine as we walk. “I bet he did. What’s not to like about you?”
We reach the next people so I don’t have to answer, which is good because I can’t think of anything to say. I glance at his left hand, though, as I meet several more trainers and their clients, and am happy to see he’s got no ring and no telltale tan line or dent. He’s as friendly as Sam is, and he’s got some of the attitude and confidence I always admired in Brett, and I’ve seen movie stars who aren’t as sexy.
Will turned out to be not even close to what I needed to change my life. Maybe Eric is what I need.
I’m quite sure I’d enjoy finding out.
*****
My first day of work goes well, and so does my second, but on Sunday I’m doing my thing at the reception desk when Hugh walks in. He looks me over, in the same creepy way he did at the other gym, then says, “I know you, don’t I?”
I shake my head. No way I’m giving him the satisfaction of knowing I recognize him.
“I’ve seen you.” Again with the body scan. “I remember.”
“I was at Billy’s other location on Wednesday,” I say coolly, “doing a workout. Were you there? I don’t remember you.”
He smiles, not seeming bothered. “Well, I remember you. I’m Hugh. I’m a trainer here.”
“Here and there?” I don’t like this. I don’t want to see him after how he was to Sam. But then it hits me: I can get the revenge Sam should have gotten. I smile at Hugh, letting my eyes skim over him as if I’m now interested. “That’s good to know. I’m Ashley.”
We shake hands, which gives me not even a hint of the spark I got from touching Eric, and he says, “I’m mostly at the other gym but I need more hours than Billy can give me there so I’m often here on the weekends. I guess I’ll get to see you.”
“I guess you will,” I say, trying to sound like that delights me. It’s not hard to do. I know Sam didn’t try to get revenge, and I’m also pretty sure he wouldn’t want me to, but I hate what Hugh did to him and I can’t let it go. Seeing him here will let me get back at him for his unkindness to Sam.
Hugh gives my shoulder a squeeze then goes off to change into his exercise clothes, and I think through my receptionist duties and try to see where I can hurt him.
It doesn’t take long.
A twenty-something woman, gorgeous but a few pounds overweight, approaches the counter and says, “I’d like to get a personal trainer.”
This is the first time I’ve had to handle this request, but Billy taught me what to do. “Of course.” I smile at her then look down at the list of trainers. There’s a small sticky note beneath Hugh’s name, which I know means he’s supposed to get the next person who wants a trainer. Then I move the note down to the next person on the list, who happens to be Eric, and he will get the next request.
Well, not today.
Although I don’t really want Eric spending hours with this beautiful person, I want to screw Hugh over more, so there’s no doubt in my mind. I push the note down to the guy after Eric and say to the woman, “You’re in luck. Eric has space and he’s a great trainer.” I assume he is. He’s certainly done a great job with his own body.
I point him out and the woman looks pleased, which doesn’t surprise me. She goes off to arrange a session with Eric and I smile down at the list. I know that the trainers get a base salary but they get paid more for each training client they have. I’ll do my best to make sure Hugh never earns another dollar.
My smile fades fast, though. Have I done the wrong thing? Usually after getting a bit of revenge I feel good. I feel like the world has been righted, at least a little. This time, though, I just feel sick. Sam wouldn’t have wanted me to do that, so maybe--
“Ashley?”
I look around, startled, to see Billy standing behind me. He’s not smiling, for the first time since I’ve met him, and a shiver runs down my spine even as I raise my chin and prepare to bluff.
“Step outside with me a minute?”
He makes it sound like a request but I know it’s not. I nod, trying to look confused but cooperative, and follow him out to the empty front steps of the gym.
“Look,” he says, “I know you’re friends with Sam. And that’s fine, of course. But don’t do what you’re doing.”
“What I’m doing? What do you mean?”
He squares his huge shoulders. “Ashley. Give it up. We both know you know what I mean. I’ve got cameras everywhere. This is your one chance. If you again try to get back at Hugh or anyone else on Sam’s behalf, I’ll have to let you go. I don’t want to do that because so far you’ve been the best receptionist I’ve ever hired, but I will. Please don’t make me.”
“Hugh’s an ass to Sam,” I say, giving up on pretending innocence, “and it’s not fair.”
Billy raises his eyebrows. “Are you telling me you’re going to continue trying to sabotage Hugh?”
I want to say I will, but his ‘best receptionist’ comment is starting to sink in and I like it. I’ve been enjoying the job, up until today, and I don’t want to lose it. I shake my head, biting my lip.
“I need to hear you say it.”
I sigh. It hurts, but I make myself say, “I won’t try to get the revenge Sam so deserves on Hugh.”
Billy pulls his mouth to one side. “Somehow that doesn’t comfort me.”
“He does deserve it.” I shrug. “I won’t do anything else to him, because I like working for you, but he does deserve it and I’m not going to say he doesn’t. But I won’t do anything else.”
Billy’s eyes search my face, then he nods slowly. “I can accept that. Do you know why he and Sam have issues?”
“Because Sam’s ex the horrible cheater is Hugh’s sister?”
Another nod. “Pretty much, yeah. Okay, get back in there.”
I turn to go and he says, “But I mean it.”
I look back over my shoulder as he says, “I will fire you if it happens again.”
I nod and go back to my reception desk and spend the rest of the night behaving myself and thinking through the situation over and over. I have no doubt that he means it. But I meant what I said too. Sam deserves revenge on Hugh.
But if I can’t do anything to get him that revenge, and Sam won’t do anything, then what? Do I just let it go? How? How is it fair that someone gets away with their bad behavior?
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Thanks again.” I smile at Sam, and can’t resist linking my arm through his as we walk out of the restaurant after he bought me dinner.
“You’re so welcome,” he says, pulling me a little closer. “And congrats again.”
I laugh. “How many times are you going to say that?” I ask, thrilled that he keeps doing it and knowing he knows I don’t want him to stop.
“About another million or so. Maybe two. Until we don’t like hearing it any more.”
“That’s n
ot gonna happen. I still can’t believe it, though.”
“Believe it, baby,” he says in what’s clearly supposed to be an imitation of Aaron.
I giggle. “Okay, fine. I will. I’m Videvideoo’s newest columnist.”
He squeezes my arm. “Oh, really? I hadn’t heard. Congrats.”
We laugh and keep walking, while I say my newest job title to myself over and over and try to get my head around the best thing that’s happened to me in a while.
Last night Sam and I attended Greg’s birthday party for Lily, and while I did appreciate being invited and was surprised at how welcoming everyone was I hated watching Greg fawn over Lily and Aaron over Summer and Kent over MC. Sam and I are becoming great friends, but we’re just friends, and I can’t imagine him fawning over me.
Then MC asked how my videos were going and I had to admit I’d entered Videvideoo’s contest but hadn’t heard anything so had probably failed. She was sympathetic, but the whole thing still stung.
And to top the night off, MC had suggested again that I could braid her hair for the wedding, something similar to the simple braid she usually wore but fancier, and before I could even respond Summer had jumped in to say, “No, you should do something totally different from usual, like big curls or something, make yourself look crazy amazing,” and I’d felt so angry that Summer obviously thought my work sucked that even Sam’s mumbled, “Summer’s got the crazy part down,” hadn’t comforted me.
Then as Sam drove me home I checked my email and learned Videvideoo had chosen me. He was so excited for me he had to pull into a parking lot because he couldn’t drive, and he hugged me so hard I couldn’t breathe. I’d hugged him back the same way, but mine was from panic not pleasure. I’d needed to have Sam sitting in the living room to make that video. Would I ever do one as good again? What would I do if Videvideoo decided to get rid of me? Not if. When.
I hadn’t been calmed by the hour-long video conference I’d had with the Videvideoo guys earlier today, in which they told me how excited they were about me and how sure they were I’d become a star and asked all about my future plans while I scrambled to find answers that didn’t sound stupid. I’d posted the contest video because Sam had made it happen, and I didn’t have any real video plans. All I had was my determination to find Will and the plans Sam had invented for me. I told those plans to Videvideoo, and they seemed to like them, but I’m still terrified the whole thing will crumble around me and then I’ll have to figure out how to get enough revenge to move past it.
Bad Will Hunting Page 16
