Personal Trainer

by Mia Carson

  “Nothing,” she whispered on a gasp. “He found nothing!”

  She crumpled up the letter and threw it aside with a yell, watching the wind pick it up and carry it down the street along with her hopes and dreams of finally finding her family. Of finally getting answers about why she’d been abandoned. When the tears subsided a while later, she wiped her face on her shirtsleeve and pushed to her feet. If Patty wanted her out, then Belle would go, and this time, wherever they placed her, she’d put her head down, get through school, and find a way to be on her own. She was finished trying to find her family. Finished with the lot of them.

  Anger burned like a raging hurricane inside her as she stormed into the house and gathered her few meager things into her duffel bag. She stalked back outside to wait on the porch and explain to her social worker why she was being kicked out of another foster home. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except finding a way out of this crappy hellhole. She never wanted a family, never wanted anyone to care about her or pretend to. They all just went away in the end. She would be alone for the rest of her life and be happy.

  It was all she could do…

  Belle shot awake in bed, one hand automatically flying to her pregnant belly while the other went to her forehead. She glanced around, swearing she’d still be sitting on Patty’s front porch, but the snoring beside her assured her that she was safe in Greyson’s bed and that she was no longer sixteen years old, waiting on a car ride to take her away… far, far away. Her heart pounding in her chest, she pulled her feet from the sheet and slipped quietly from the bed, hunger pains overriding her worries for a second. She grabbed her silk robe and left the bedroom and the snoring Greyson as she walked through the dark house. The clock in the kitchen read a little past three in the morning, and she groaned. Nearly the same time she’d woken up every night this week.

  “I should just set an alarm and be done with it,” she muttered, wondering how much Greyson would freak if she got up at three to start her workday.

  The thought of his furrowed brow and furiously tilted lips made her giggle as she dug through the freezer for a pint of peanut butter ice cream. Since Greyson was asleep, she reached into the fridge for a jar of pickles, too, then went to the kitchen table to eat them together. He said it didn’t bother him, but whenever she ate these together, he grimaced and swallowed hard, leaving the room to let her eat what she wanted. Belle smirked as she ate a petite pickle and followed it with a spoonful of ice cream. It could be a lot worse, but he didn’t believe her.

  As she sat alone in the dark, her dream floated back to her again and what Greyson had told her earlier about a man named Brent. She thought hard, closing her eyes and digging back as far into her memories as she could, but the name didn’t sound familiar. If he was her older brother, it raised more questions than it answered, and Belle knew exactly why Greyson waited so long to tell her. She hadn’t stopped worrying about it since. What was he like? Did he really want to find her? Where had he been all these years, and, worst of all, did he know what happened to their parents? Belle’s hand fumbled with the spoon, and it clattered to the kitchen table. She cringed and waited to see Greyson barreling down the hall to find her, but he stayed asleep.

  The promise she’d made to herself all those years ago rushed back—about not wanting a family, telling herself she didn’t need one… Man, was she wrong.

  Her hands fell to cradle her belly, and she smiled. “Don’t worry, bear junior, your mommy’s going to find out who she is after all.”

  She loved Greyson, loved being a part of his life and knowing Sally and the twins. She wanted their child to know them all too and be loved, but she knew if she never met Brent, if she never found out who he was for sure, she’d regret it forever.

  Leaving her ice cream and pickles, Belle ran back to the bedroom and hopped into bed, shaking Greyson’s shoulders. “Hey, wake up,” she said quietly. He rolled over, staring at her through squinty eyes.

  “Belle?” His eyes widened he sat up quickly. “The baby? Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, calm down,” she said, catching his hands as they felt her body. “I want to meet him.”

  “Who?” he asked, his hands still doing a thorough search of her belly as if worried the baby would magically vanish.

  “Brent. I want to meet him. Soon.”

  Greyson rubbed his eyes and nodded. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I am. I want to meet him. I can’t just let this go, or I’ll risk never knowing,” she said and sank to her knees on the bed. “I have to know something about my past, and if he can give me even a little bit, then I’ll have something about my family to tell the baby when it’s born.”

  Greyson wrapped his arms around her and drew her against his warmth. “Then you can meet him—on one condition. And before you start, I’m not going to argue with you on this point.”

  She grinned. “And what is your one condition?”

  “I meet him first, alone. If he’s not who he says, if he’s just some fraud or looking for money, he’s not getting anywhere near you.”

  The urge to argue with him was there, but her reason overruled her mouth for once and she remained silent. He had a point, and her heart sighed to know how deeply he loved her to want to protect her from Brent in case he was lying.

  “Deal. But you have to do it soon, like this weekend.”

  “He’s in California,” he reminded her.

  “But it’s perfect. Your mom’s going to kidnap me, anyway, for the day, so there won’t be a chance of me sneaking along,” she insisted. “Please? See if you can fly him out here?”

  His brow furrowed, and she reached up to smooth out the lines. “I’ll call him in the morning and see if he’s available,” he agreed and kissed her. “Promise me you won’t try anything, though, until I give the okay?”

  She wrapped her pinky around his. “I promise. Oh, crap!” She slipped from his arms.

  “What are you doing?” he asked with his deep laugh as she ducked out the door.

  “Pickles and ice cream,” she called over her shoulder, and he groaned in disgust behind her. Not that she cared. She was going to meet her brother soon—or whom she hoped was her brother. If this turned out to be the same as the last time, Belle worried her hope of finding out where she came from would be dashed forever.

  Greyson sipped his coffee and waited at the local café by the airport for Brent Hall to arrive. His flight landed on time two hours ago, and Greyson had scheduled their meeting for noon. Belle had been nervous all morning, flitting around the house until Sally, the twins, and Carrie came by to kidnap her for the day at ten. They told everyone else what was going on, and Sally swore she would keep an eye on Belle and not let her sneak off or call Greyson repeatedly.

  So far, so good, he thought as he sipped his coffee and scanned the café. It was busy this time of day, but still no sign of Brent.

  He tried to remember what the man had said about himself. No surprise he was artistic, just like Belle, but he was a painter, not a designer. He said he worked in a gallery and the museum out in Sacramento, just trying to get by. He had a girlfriend, but that was about it. Didn’t finish college, and from the background check Greyson had run, he hadn’t been in trouble with the law. His eyes were the same ice-blue shade as Belle’s, and his hair was a dead ringer for hers, too, along with the curve of his jaw and cheekbones. If he only saw the picture, he would’ve thought they looked alike. It gave him hope that this man told the truth, but a nagging voice in the back of his mind said not to get too comfortable, not yet.

  The bell above the door rang again, and Brent strolled in, glancing around the café, a cell phone in hand. Greyson took a deep breath to keep his temper in check and waved an arm over his head. Brent saw him, waved back, and motioned he was going to grab a coffee.

  “Course you are,” he muttered under his breath, slouching back in his seat. “Not like you’re about to meet the man who could lead you to your sister.” He
watched Brent closely as he ordered his coffee until he finally reached the table.

  Greyson stood, forcing a smile on his face as he held out a hand. “Brent Hall,” Brent said, shaking Greyson’s hand heartily. “You must be Greyson Taylor. Great to meet you, man, really.”

  “Likewise,” Greyson said, Belle’s voice whispering in his mind to be nice. She’d warned him several times what would happen if he hauled off and decked Brent for no reason. They sat down, and Greyson noticed Brent’s fingers wrap tightly around his mug before his fingers tapped the rim. He grinned.

  “Something I said?” Brent asked, his lips curling to the side, just as Belle’s did.

  “Habits you and your sister have in common,” he admitted grudgingly, nodding to Brent’s still tapping fingers. “She does it when she’s nervous—or pissed.”

  Brent glanced down at his fingers, and a gentler smile softened his face. “It's nice to know we have a few things in common, though I have a feeling by the way you’re staring at me, you don’t like me too much.”

  “I love your sister very much,” Greyson admitted, “and I know what she’s been through. I won’t see her hurt because someone comes forward and claims he’s her brother.”

  “And if I had proof?” Brent asked without glancing up.

  “Then I’d like to see it,” Greyson acknowledged. “Look, I want you to be reunited with her, I do, but… I have to protect her, too. Surely you understand that.”

  Brent nodded and stared into his coffee. “You know, a few years ago, I was in a really dark place,” he said quietly. “Drank a lot, was broke again, and the whole time, all I did was pray to God that my little sister was in a better state than I was. That she wasn’t as lost as I was… and I held onto the hope that maybe I’d find her again.” He raised his blue eyes to Greyson who’d sat back in his seat, taken aback by his stunning resemblance to the same fiery woman he spent every day with. “I’m glad to hear she has someone like you looking out for her.”

  “I wasn’t always around,” Greyson said, “but I wish I had been.”

  “How did you two meet?”

  Greyson smirked. “Actually, she started at my company as an intern, and after a few showdowns of her putting me in my place, I realized Belle was no ordinary woman.”

  “So you’re dating your intern?” Brent asked with a grin.

  “Well,” Greyson said with a laugh, suddenly nervous about what this man might think of him. “We’re getting married, and she’s… uh, she’s pregnant with our baby.”

  Brent’s smile fell away, and his hands slipped to the table, palms flat, as he absorbed the new information. Greyson had thought of telling him everything before he landed, but if this man was a fraud, he wasn’t giving him all the details of he and Belle’s life together. He couldn’t read Brent as easily as Belle, but he knew he was thinking hard on what Greyson had told him. The question, now, was how much like his sister was he when it came to tempers. A flash of annoyance crossed his face before it vanished, and Brent broke out into excited laughter and shook Greyson’s hand again.

  “Well then, double congratulations are in order,” he said with a sigh. “I’m going to be an uncle…Wow… This is… this is incredible.”

  “Yeah, it’s been a journey,” Greyson said quietly, smiling as he remembered those first few days with Belle. “Your sister’s one-of-a-kind, and I still can’t believe she found me.”

  “You’re lucky,” Brent told him. “And I’m thankful as hell, otherwise I never would’ve found her.” He shook his head, glancing around the café, his eyes alight with excitement. “The proof I talked about—I have a birth certificate and papers with me—and Belle’s name is on them—from our social worker after we were found at the church.”

  Greyson nodded, and a twinge of sadness made his chest tighten. “And there was no note left with either of you?”

  Brent shook his head. “Nothing. Just a very vague memory of what our mom looked like,” he whispered. His eyes stared at the far wall, but Greyson knew he saw something completely different. “We were left close to dawn, and a nun found us, sitting outside the doors. It wasn’t cold out, at least, but I was hungry and crying, and Belle… she wouldn’t stop crying either. I remember that. I told the nun our names, and the next thing I know, Belle was taken away from me and I was thrown into a foster home.”

  “How old were you?” Greyson asked quietly.

  “Belle had just turned one, and I was four. Our mom… She smelled like cinnamon,” he said and smiled bitterly. “I remember that… I remember her dark hair and her blue eyes filled with tears as she told me to stay put. After that, everything blurs together.”

  Greyson didn’t know what to say, so he remained silent, hating himself for thinking he’d had it rough all these years with a dad who simply didn’t understand him. At least his parents hadn’t abandoned him outside a damn church with no note, nothing to even give them just a sliver of closure.

  “Greyson, it’s been twenty-one years since I’ve seen my baby sister,” Brent said firmly. “I know you want to keep her safe, and I respect that, but I am her older brother and I would very much like to meet her. See her all grown up. I don’t expect to stay in her life if she doesn’t want me,” he added, his voice strained with worry, “but I want to at least give her a chance to know me.”

  “Show me your papers,” Greyson said, “and I’ll tell Belle you want to meet her as soon as she’s up for it.”

  Brent smiled and leaned closer over the table. “Can you tell me about her?”

  Greyson smirked. “Oh, I can tell you about her. I can tell you how much of a pain-in-the-ass she is and how much I love her.”

  “What did I tell you?” Sally muttered and reached over Belle’s shoulder, snatching her cell away.

  “Oh, come on, I was just going to text him and check in,” she whined, but Sally laughed and tucked her cell phone away. “This is killing me, you know that, right? Physically killing me.”

  Sally ignored her whining and patted her on the head like an insolent child as the twins laughed nearby. Carrie held up a diaper bag with flames on it and nodded. “This one, I’m getting you this one, it’s perfect!”

  “I thought we already picked one out?” Belle asked, glancing at the shopping bags in Mel’s hands.

  “Who said you can’t have two?” Molly asked, looking through baby clothes on a nearby table. “You are going to tell us all what sex it is, right? You’re not going to keep it a secret until it pops its head out and says hello?”

  Sally whacked her on the arm as Belle stared at her, open-mouthed. “Thanks for that image,” she said and laughed. “And yes, we’ll find out. I don’t think I could stand not knowing what is in there.”

  “Better hope it’s not a boy like Greyson,” Mel told her. “Then he’ll have another one to drive you up a wall.”

  Belle paused, picturing Greyson and a little boy tearing through the house as they played, yelling and hollering while they played computer games and she watched. A smile crept across her face, and she rested her hands on her bump. “I think a little boy would suit him just fine.”

  They meandered through the baby boutique. Belle had no idea so many existed within driving range of Phoenix, and when they’d finally decided to stop for a late lunch, she’d tapped her fingers nervously on the table while they waited for their food. She was starving even though she’d been nibbling on crackers all morning in the hope they would calm her nerves and stomach. The latter was fine aside from begging for good food, but the others were raging. She had to know what was happening, needed to call Greyson, but one glance at Sally said she wasn’t going to get her cell back, not yet.

  “Do you think he’s actually your brother?” Carrie, sitting beside her at the table, asked gently.

  Belle shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t remember a brother, but I was found when I was one so I wouldn’t remember.”

  “I hope it’s him, for your sake, dear,” Sally said and patted her han
d on the table. “I’m sure everything is going just swimmingly and Greyson hopefully hasn’t gone off the deep end with his grilling.”

  “I warned him to be nice before he left,” Belle said. “I just need to know if I actually have a family out there somewhere.”

  Mel leaned against her other shoulder and grinned. “We’re your family, no matter what. Just remember that. And remember that I will always be your favorite auntie, isn’t that right?” she muttered, rubbing Belle’s belly.

  “Mel, what did I say about talking to bear junior?” Belle said with a laugh, and Mel straightened with a pout.

  “You have to let me have some fun you know. This is the first baby.”

  Belle sighed and leaned back in her chair. Mel cheered and rested her hand on the baby bump again, talking quietly to it in baby talk. “You’re worse than your brother.”

  “He talks to it?” Molly asked, amusement crinkling the corners of her eyes.

  “All the time. Not like this, thank God, but yeah, he talks to it. Kisses it. Tells it goodnight,” she said and laughed quietly. “Last night, he even sang it a lullaby—horribly by the way, but he did it.” Her smile faded as she glanced at Sally. “He’s worried about being a dad.”

  “More than you are about being a mom?” Sally asked.

  Belle sighed as Mel sat up, all of them looking at her. “Is it that obvious?”

  Sally exchanged a glance with the girls, and they laughed as the waiter returned with their sandwiches and salads. Belle was hungry before, but now, her stomach twisted with nerves again. She fiddled with her lettuce, digging her fork through it, picturing a little baby wrapped in a bundle and left alone on a church step. Left by a mom who didn’t want her or a dad who didn’t care. She excused herself abruptly as tears sprang to her eyes and hurried to the ladies’ room. It was empty, thankfully, and she ducked into the closest stall as the tears poured down her cheeks.