by Mia Carson
He was a much more complex guy than I’d given him credit for. “You’re looking for a relationship?”
“Yeah, you can say that.”
“What does mo-cap mean?”
“Slang for motion capture. They dress you up in a suit with markers on it, then you act out whatever it is you’re supposed to do. Using a bunch of cameras, a computer tracks the markers, then they replace you with some CGI character. In Julie’s case, if she gets the gig, she’ll be one of the apes.”
“You’ve been on television or in movies?”
“No movies. I had a couple of parts on television. In one I was the pool guy in the background. In another, I played an Olympic athlete accused of raping a girl. Go figure.” He smirked at me. “That’s when I knew acting wasn’t for me.”
“Why?”
“Someone once wrote, ‘Neil Gibson has never acted on television before, and after his appearance on LA Crime Scene, he still hasn’t.’”
I grimaced in sympathetic, if teasing, pain. “That’s brutal!”
“Yeah, but it’s true. I decided to leave the acting to someone else and do what I know.”
We chatted about this and that until we rolled to a stop in front of a brightly lit space tucked into a strip mall, Neil Gibson Fitness Center displayed across the top in big, bold, letters. It appeared the space it occupied may have once been a grocery store or some other large retail outlet.
“You have three of these?”
“Yeah. I’m trying to franchise them.”
“Any luck?”
“Not yet, but I’m still working on it.”
He led me inside. The place was large, bright, and full of gleaming machines. Televisions were everywhere, and there were a couple of good looking instructors walking around, offering tips and wiping down machines. It appeared to be a well-oiled operation.
He spent thirty minutes or so walking around and saying hello to people, laughing and talking with the members while offering a word of encouragement here, a suggestion there. He had a way with people, that much was clear.
We returned to his car, and he dropped me off at my office.
“What’s the plan?” he asked through the passenger window as his car burbled beside me.
“I need to talk to the rest of your personal training clients.”
“Same time tomorrow, then? I have three appointments. That’ll leave you only one more.”
“Plus the one that dropped you.”
“Yeah, I’ll call her tonight and see if she is willing to talk to you.”
“Okay. Thanks, Neil.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
When I nodded, he zipped away, his Porsche howling like a banshee. I sighed and unlocked my door. I needed to transcribe my interviews and hated working at home. This was the third worst part of the job. Like Dad had told me once, ‘Investigations are like taking a shit…the job isn’t finished until the paperwork is done.’ With a sigh I sat down at my desk and set to work, listening to my interviews as my fingers danced over the keyboard.
Neil
As I left Clearview Investigations, I couldn’t decide if I liked that Tanya was crawling up my ass with a microscope or not. On the one hand, her actions proved she was thorough, and I had nothing to hide, but on the other hand, having someone digging into all my past relationships wasn’t a comfortable experience. Having her laying it out with Julie made me feel a bit like a cad.
I knew when I decided I had to take the bull by the horns this wasn’t going to be fun. I never intended to hurt anyone, and I tried to treat all the women I dated with respect, but my past was starting to come back and bite me in the ass.
With a sigh, I flipped through my contacts while I waited at a stop light. I selected the number I wanted, then tossed the phone aside as it rang through the car’s speakers.
“Amity.”
“Amity, Neil Gibson. Sorry to bother you. May I have two minutes of your time?”
“What do you want?”
I grimaced. She didn’t sound pleased to hear from me. “I’d like you to talk to someone for me.”
“Who?”
“Tanya Jacobs. She’s a private investigator I’ve hired to try to get to the bottom of these rumors floating around.”
“I don’t know, Neil. I like you, but I want to stay away from that.”
“I understand. If you could just talk to her on the phone? I’m sure it won’t take much time and it would really help me out.”
I heard her sigh. “Okay. I’ll give her ten minutes, on the phone. That’s the best I can do.”
“Thanks, Amity. I appreciate you helping me out. When would be a good time for her to call?”
“Tomorrow, between nine and ten. Ten minutes, Neil. That’s it.”
“That’s enough. Thanks! I owe you one.”
“You get this mess cleared up, you can give me a free session.”
I grinned. “You got it. Thanks again.”
I hung up and immediately called Tanya. “Clearview Investigations.”
“Tanya, Neil. I just spoke with Amity Dymunde. She’s agreed to give you ten minutes between nine and ten tomorrow.”
“The Amity Dymunde, CEO of Diamond Hotels International? That Amity Dymunde?”
“Yeah. So be polite. You’ll have to do your interview over the phone. That’s the best I can do.”
“That’s fine. Thanks for setting that up for me.”
“No problem. The call confirmed she cut me loose because of the rumors. That’s something, I guess.”
“Hopefully we can get this cleared up quickly.”
“Hopefully. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Nine a.m.,” she replied.
“Nine a.m.,” I repeated and hung up.
I let out a long slow breath. This shit was really starting to get to me, and having Tanya asking questions that made me examine the last five years of my life didn’t help. I was almost home when my phone rang. I glanced at the name on the screen and rolled my eyes. I almost didn’t answer, but I knew from experience if I didn’t, she would keep calling until I did. I accepted the call.
“Ms. Rumson, what can I do for you?”
“So formal, Neil. You used to call me April.”
“That was before. How can I help you?”
“I’m calling to see if you changed your mind about my private sessions.”
“Ms. Rumson, April, I told you, my schedule is full. I’m sorry.”
“You’re not fooling me, Neil. I happen to know you’ve had an opening become available in the last couple of weeks. Surely you can slot me in?” she asked, her voice dripping sex and promises.
April Rumson was the executive producer of the most lucrative series of young-adult films in history and the owner of the production company that made them. She was incredibly rich, successful, and used to be one of my regulars. She was in her mid-fifties, still attractive, and wasn’t used to people telling her no, but that’s exactly what I’d done.
I’d been working with her for about six months, and she was getting ever bolder in her desire to take me as a lover. Not only was she a client, she was also married, so that was a double no go for me. She claimed she was in an open marriage and was free to sleep with anyone she wanted, as was her husband, but that didn’t matter to me. I was not going to sleep with another man’s wife, open marriage or not.
I’d finally told her if her advances didn’t stop, I was dropping her as a client. That had, at first, pissed her off, then she’d changed tactics. She decided that if she wasn’t a client, I’d be free to take her to bed. When I still refused, she’d become even more forward. I’d become a personal challenge. I finally carried out my threat and dropped her as a client. At first, she was mad about it and I didn’t hear from her for almost a year, but in the last couple of months, she’d started calling me, trying to retain my services.
“No, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be so quick to say no,” she wheedled. “I can make
it worth your while.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“I wasn’t talking about money, though if that’s what you want, I can get you that too. I’ll double your rate.”
“Not interested.”
“Would it be so bad?”
“I told you, I don’t sleep with my clients.”
“But I’m not your client anymore.”
“No, but you’re married. That’s even more of a reason.”
She sighed. “Nothing I can do will change your mind?”
“No. I’m sorry. My schedule is full, and with these rumors flying around, I need to remain squeaky clean.”
“I’ve heard about them. Such a shame, having your name dragged down like that. If it keeps up, you may lose even more of your clients. Then what will you do? You might decide my offer isn’t so bad after all.”
A rush of heat washed over me. Tanya had asked if there was anyone holding a grudge, and I’d told her no. But after that comment, one person came to mind.
“The answer is still no. I’m sorry.”
April sighed dramatically. “Okay, but you can’t fault me for asking. I really need someone to motivate me into getting some exercise. You know, someone who can really give me a good workout. You were always good at that.”
“I’ll be happy to recommend someone.”
“No, that’s okay. I can wait. I hope you don’t mind if I call you back in a month or so to see if you’ve changed your mind.”
“I won’t change my mind.”
“Well, I think I’ll call anyway, just to be sure. Thanks, Neil. I’ll see you around.”
“When they’re selling ice cream in hell,” I snarled when I was sure the call had ended.
I started to call Tanya again to tell her about April, but I changed my mind. I’d tell her in the morning after I’d had a little time to digest what she’d said. She hadn’t said anything she hadn’t before, except the comment about the rumors.
Right now, I was prepared to blame her for everything. That snide little comment made me wonder if she would really try to wreck my career to drive me to her arms. Maybe she was doing it out of spite. I didn’t know, but whatever she was doing, if she was doing it, wouldn’t work. My personal training sessions were a tiny part of my income. I did it, mostly, as a way to keep my name relevant for my fitness centers and the website. ‘Personal Fitness Instructor to the stars’ had a nice ring to it, and it helped sell web subscriptions and fitness center memberships. The fitness centers were starting to make money, but the bulk of my income came from the website. I viewed the personal training as little more than advertising.
I rolled to a stop at my apartment complex and slapped my badge against the sensor to raise the gate for the garage. The more I thought about April, the madder I got. I was tempted to turn around, drive to her house, and give her what she wanted. She wanted me to fuck her? I’d fuck her, alright. I’d fuck her until she admitted she was behind all this shit, then I’d fuck her again in court when I sued her ass for everything she had.
I got out of my car and slammed the door before I stomped to the elevator that would take me to my apartment. I slapped my badge against the elevator door to open it, stepped in, and pushed the button for my floor. As the elevator rose, I worked to shove the anger down.
I tried to be a good guy and treat everyone the way I wanted to be treated. Having someone intentionally trying to screw me over pissed me off like few things could. Being angry didn’t help me, which I’d learned in my gymnastics training. Being upset about something caused you to lose focus, and you made more mistakes. By the time the doors opened on the tenth floor, I had regained control of myself.
Going to April and getting in her face, or making accusations I couldn’t prove, would accomplish nothing. Tomorrow, I’d tell Tanya what April said and let her go to work to prove or disprove it. That’s what I’d hired her for. She wanted a starting place? Now she had one.
If April was guilty of spreading the rumors, I needed proof, and confronting her would only serve to warn her I was coming for her. The flip side was, if she wasn’t guilty, I didn’t want to be that guy making wild, and ultimately false, accusations. That would be even more damaging to my career than the rumors. It would also make me no better than the person spreading false rumors about me.
I entered my apartment and tossed my keys into the bowl on the table by the door just for that purpose. My apartment wasn’t large, only about two-thousand square feet, but it was nicely turned out with polished wood floors and large windows that allowed me to see downtown LA. It wasn’t Beverly Hills or Bel Air, but it suited me.
I flopped into my spot on the couch, laid my head back, and closed my eyes. I loved what I was doing, but life was so much simpler in Denison. There, people looked out for each other, but here in Los Angeles, it was dog eat dog. People would smile at you as they drove a knife into your back if they thought it would get them something.
I sat up with a sigh. Nothing for it, and now that I wasn’t steaming anymore, I had to admit April hadn’t said anything that tied her to the rumors. I was just looking for someone to blame. I stood and looked out my windows. The sun was setting, and the city was beginning to light up. It wasn’t Iowa, with its natural beauty of rolling fields of black earth and green corn, but the city had a beauty all its own.
I moved to the kitchen to prepare dinner, content with my life, and I didn’t need anyone to complete me, but I missed Megan. Not because she was the love of my life, but because it was nice to have someone around to talk to, to hold, and be held by. To laugh and tease as we went about the simple tasks, like cooking, that people did. And yes, if I was honest with myself, it was nice to have someone to fuck.
Megan was an accountant. She might have been a whiz with numbers, but her idea of cooking was popping a store-bought frozen entrée into the oven. I couldn’t eat like that. I didn’t care who you were, you can’t outwork a bad diet, so I did most of the cooking. While I cooked, she would often prop against the counter with a glass of wine, and we’d talk about our day. Just having her standing in my kitchen telling me about her day, took all the drudgery out of preparing our meal.
I dug around in the fridge and began pulling out ingredients. I seared a piece of fish in olive oil as I prepared a side dish of cauliflower. While my hands worked, my mind wandered.
What I missed most, after Megan left, wasn’t the sex; I missed the companionship. Having someone to talk to about what was going on and knowing they were interested. Having someone other than myself to cook for. The laughs and smiles. The snuggling on the couch to watch a movie. The working out together. All the little things that change each day from existing to living.
That was what I was missing when I was out chasing anything that wore a skirt. Megan and I made love almost every night. Listening to her moan through an orgasm was more pleasing to my ear than the finest sonata.
I snorted as I flipped the fish over. What would Ms. Tanya Jacobs think of me, standing alone in my kitchen musing about the lack of female companionship? She probably wouldn’t believe it. I smiled to myself. She saw me as nothing but a walking erection. A player, she called me. I suppose I had been, in my own way, but I was telling her the truth when I said that life didn’t appeal to me as much anymore.
I transferred the fish and cauliflower to my plate, moved to the table, and began to eat. I’d taken a couple of lovers since Megan, but it was just physical need and had simply served to remind me of what I didn’t want. The irony wasn’t lost on me that the rumors of harassment had appeared after I’d started settling down.
I shook my head with an amused grunt. Karma. It was a real bitch.
Tanya
I stretched and groaned myself awake. Transcribing the three interviews I’d conducted yesterday had taken almost three hours, but other than creating a typed copy, nothing had come of it. Nothing in the interviews contradicted or called into question anything anyone said. I was very interested in talking w
ith the client who had fired Neil, but thus far, everyone seemed to think Neil was nothing but a great guy.
I ate a bowl of cold cereal, my standard breakfast, as I read over my transcripts from last night. After a night’s sleep, nothing jumped off the page at me that I’d missed yesterday. I put my bowl in the dish washer, took my shower, and dressed. Yesterday I’d worn dark blue, so today I selected a light gray suit with a black, scoop-neck blouse. Ninety minutes after my alarm went off, I was walking out my door.
Even though I arrived at my office ten minutes early, I saw Neil’s car waiting. I pulled into my traditional parking space before walking up beside his car and softly rapping the window with my knuckle. He was engrossed in something on his phone, and I smiled when he started.
“You’re early,” I said when his window whirred down.
“Yeah. I have something I need to tell you.”
“What?”
“Get in, I’ll tell you on the way.”
I hesitated but decided my laptop could ride around in his car as easily as it could sit in my office. I walked around the nose of the car as it growled to life, tucking my case behind my seat before dropping into the car. “What have you got?”
“Remember when you asked me if someone might be nursing a grudge, and I said no?” I nodded but said nothing. “I’ve changed my mind. Maybe there is someone.”
My right eyebrow crept up. “Who?”
“An ex-client of mine, April Rumson. I did some private lessons with her, like you saw me doing yesterday, but I quit about a year ago.”
“Why?”
“It wasn’t working out. She wanted more from me than I was willing to give.”
“She wanted to sleep with you?”
“Yeah.”
“But she was a client?”
“Yeah. Not only that, she’s married. The more I told her I wasn’t interested, the more it became a game for her. I finally decided I’d had enough.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this when you first came to see me?”
