Trust Me, I’m a Personal Trainer

by Sam Derbyshire

  “I went to Thor this morning and he said I’d lost two and a half kilos. He said it was pretty impressive for my first week.”

  “It is,” replied Kelsey, “it’s brilliant, I’m proud of you. If you keep it up I’ll take you out. How much weight are you trying to lose? Have you got a goal?”

  If only you knew, thought Kyle, but he couldn’t believe she was actually offering to take him out.

  “Seventy kilos, that’s about the weight I was when I played for St Johnston, that’s the target I set with Thor. I’ve got a long way to go yet.”

  “OK,” replied Kelsey, smiling at him, “You get to seventy kilos and it’s a date.”

  Kyle couldn’t believe his luck.

  “A kebab at the dog track?” he replied, laughing.

  “Is there still a dog track round here?” she said, looking at him quizzically. “Actually, I’m not sure I’d like a dog track, poor wee doggies running around after a robot rabbit. I think it’s a bit cruel.”

  “Well just a kebab then,” said Kyle. He couldn’t care less what it was; the promise of spending any time at all with her was incentive enough.

  “I’ll start saving,” she replied, smiling at him, “I’m sure I can stretch to a kebab.”

  And as they both returned to the safety of their computer screens, a frisson of unexpected excitement disseminated gently across the office.

  CHAPTER 37

  Parking the car as close to the barn as possible, Maggie made Myles wait in the car while she embarked on a quick reconnaissance of the yard. She would need to let the dogs out as, realising that someone was in the yard, they would continue to bark until they knew what they were barking at. Once they’d had a quick sniff around they’d be fine. Maggie unlocked the back door and the dogs, eager to please, followed her obediently back to the car. As she opened the passenger door, they wagged their tails enthusiastically as Myles disembarked.

  “Nice dogs,” he said, making a fuss of them both. “I’d love a dog, but it’s no good where I live. A Chelsea penthouse isn’t the ideal place for a dog. It wouldn’t be fair.”

  “Well that’s just as well, because if you don’t like my dogs there’s no hope for us, is there, my darlings?” Anyway, just ignore them and they’ll leave us alone. I’ll put them back inside in a minute.”

  “I don’t remember this bit when I was here last time,” said Myles, looking around. “Although I’m surprised I remember anything. I was a bit pissed, I think.”

  “Just a little,” replied Maggie. “It was Callum’s fortieth, wasn’t it? To be honest, I don’t remember speaking to you much, but I do remember Wife Number Two throwing a glass of red wine over you. She was very pretty, although she looked about sixteen.”

  “She was nineteen,” replied Myles.

  “Good god, Myles, nineteen? What was her name again?”

  “Cressida,” said Myles, putting his sunglasses on in a subconscious attempt at erasing the memory. “Good old Cressida. God, she was difficult.”

  Maggie looked at him. She vaguely remembered Cressida, she was very young and obviously out of her depth with someone like Myles.

  “I don’t think old is the appropriate term in this case, and it might have been legal but she was still basically a child. Teenagers are difficult, darling.”

  “Well I wouldn’t know,” replied Myles. “And yeah, OK, it wasn’t my finest move.”

  “What possessed you to marry her?”

  “Vanity, probably,” replied Myles. “I’d been divorced by Samantha and she’d shacked up with some smarmy bloody Italian with a yacht, so I shacked up with a nineteen year old. She’d fallen out with her mother and wanted to piss her off, it just happened.”

  “For all the wrong reasons,” replied Maggie. “Poor girl, you were old enough to be her father and I can’t imagine you were the easiest person to live with; your infidelity was legendary, Myles.”

  “Poor girl? Trust me, she knew what she was doing and she got her revenge – along with a very nice flat in Pimlico.”

  Maggie took the blanket out of the car and locked the door.

  “I actually found you quite attractive at the party,” she said, smiling at him. “I remember saying to Callum that I thought you were very nice and he said you were an arrogant bastard.”

  “He’s always liked me.” He laughed; he loved the way she said it as it was. A spade was a spade as far as Maggie was concerned and it was refreshing. He was fed up with playing games. Taking her hand he pulled her to him and, pinning her against the car, he kissed her.

  “I’m surprised you’re interested then,” he whispered as he kissed her again and started to unbutton her shirt, “or are you attracted to bastards?”

  “Obviously,” she replied as she allowed him to kiss her, but then noticing the dogs staring at them, she suddenly remembered where she was. Pulling away, she kissed him briefly on the cheek and removed his hand from her breast.

  “I’ll put the dogs away,” she whispered. “Go and wait in the barn, it’s too exposed here. I’ll be two minutes; here, take the rug. Climb up the ladder to the top, there’s a bottle of fizz in a cool box if you fancy opening it.”

  Myles took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair, his eyes following her knickerless arse as she strode purposefully across the yard. As he watched her disappear inside, he wondered how the hell this had happened and how on earth he had ended up with Maggie Dunbar. Callum would murder him when he found out.

  CHAPTER 38

  Having climbed the ladder to the top of the barn, Myles was impressed to find not only a cool box with chilled champagne, but a very nice lunch. He loved Game Pie, especially when it was homemade and the salad looked incredible. A bit of iceberg and sliced tomato obviously didn’t cut it with Maggie. Hats off to her, she never did anything by half. Unfolding the blanket, he lay it down on top of the straw bales then, removing his jacket, he folded it to make a pillow. He opened the bottle of champagne. As expected, it was a good one and he hoped that it was one from Callum’s very well-stocked wine cellar; that would really piss him off. Myles poured the champagne into the glasses and, taking a sip, sat down on the blanket, propping himself up against one of the bales. It was warm and peaceful and he felt incredibly relaxed, despite the fact that he was about to get laid by the mistress of the house. Briefly he closed his eyes but, as he started to drift off, he heard Maggie’s footsteps. The ladder rattled as she began to climb and he tried to rearrange himself seductively on the rug, surprised at himself for feeling a little nervous. Sitting up, he picked up the glass and as Maggie stepped off the ladder and smiled at him, he offered her the champagne. She looked nervous too but he liked it. She was a tough cookie, but he knew that under that cool and unbelievably efficient exterior, she was, like him, harbouring some very deep insecurities.

  “Champagne?” asked Myles as she sat down beside him.

  “Of course,” replied Maggie, taking the glass. “Cheers.”

  Myles clinked his glass against hers and looked into her eyes.

  “It’s hot up here,” he said, seductively. “I might have to take some clothing off. Are you feeling the heat too?”

  Maggie took a gulp of champagne, she still couldn’t believe she was doing this.

  “Just a little,” she whispered as Myles stood and removed his shirt. She loved his body; he’d looked after it, unlike Callum. Myles knelt down and begun to unbutton her shirt. As it fell open, he gently stroked her breasts. Maggie shivered, he knew how to seduce a woman.

  “Lie down,” he whispered.

  Maggie lay down and, as she tried to relax, Myles began to unbutton her jodhpurs.

  “Well these aren’t easy, are they?” he said as he tried to loosen the zip. “Are they as difficult to get on as they are to get off?

  Maggie giggled, she had guessed that seduction might be difficult in jodhpurs; they weren’t the easiest of items to remove. She still had her boots on too and they wouldn’t be easy to get off gracefully either
.

  “Shall I help?” she asked, taking control of the zip and lowering it. It wasn’t like this in movies. In movies, clothing was always easy to manage. Myles watched and, as the zip reached its limits, tried to move his hand inside.

  “Shit, these are tight. I think they’ll need to come off, Mrs Dunbar. Well, if I can get them off – you might have to help me again.”

  Maggie sat up, resting on her elbows.

  “I think you’ll have to take my boots off first, just give them a pull, they don’t come off that easily either. Maybe I should just have worn a frock and gone for Lady Chatterley rather than Jilly Cooper.”

  “A frock?” laughed Myles as he clutched one of the boots and started to pull. “Christ, Mags, no one says frock these days but a frock would definitely have been a lot easier.”

  “It’s your fault,” replied Maggie. “You wanted to play out your fantasies; just give a big tug.”

  After a lot more tugging, Myles managed to remove both boots. Maggie lay on her back and started to remove the jodhpurs.

  “This isn’t very seductive, is it?” she laughed as she pushed the jodhpurs down to her knees. “I don’t think there’s any attractive way to do this, I think you’re going to have to pull again.”

  Myles grinned as he took hold of both legs, “Oh I don’t know, you look pretty good from this angle.”

  “I feel like I’m about to give birth,” she replied. “We really didn’t think this through properly.”

  Finally, Myles removed the offending items. As Maggie lay back, he ran his hand up her thigh. “I think you should put the boots back on,” he whispered huskily as he lay down on top of her. “I’d like to see you naked in riding boots.”

  “But I’ve just got them off,” replied Maggie.

  “Please,” said Myles, “you’ll look so bloody hot.”

  “I’ll be bloody roasting by the time I’ve got those boots back on,” she replied as, self-consciously, she stood up. Her shirt was undone, but luckily her bra was still in place. She didn’t fancy bending over to put boots on without a bra; gravity wasn’t always a woman’s best friend. It was bad enough not having any knickers on. Picking up the boots, she sat down on a bale and shrieked as a straw found its way into the crevice of her nether regions. Myles couldn’t help but laugh as she stood up and checked herself for the offending item.

  “I don’t know what you’re laughing at!” She glared at him. “Why don’t you get your kit off and plant your arse on a straw bale? Bugger, that was sharp.”

  Myles stood up and pulled her towards him. “Come here,” he said gently, “forget about the boots, you look lovely just as you are. Lie down and I’ll check for damage.”

  Maggie lay down and sighed as Myles gently prised her legs apart and brushed his hand lightly over her fanny. Maggie stiffened, she wasn’t sure her shaving had been very thorough; she really could do without a close inspection. Taking his hand, she kissed him as he once again lay himself on top of her.

  “Lay on the rug,” she whispered, “it’s my turn to be on top.”

  “Oh I like that idea,” Myles whispered as he rolled off and lay down on his back. Maggie undid his jeans and manoeuvred them down his legs. He groaned as she sat astride him and slowly manoeuvred herself onto his now very alert erection.

  “It’s called the cow girl position,” said Maggie huskily as she started to move herself up and down. “It’s a great workout, apparently, if we can keep it up for thirty minutes.”

  “No pressure then,” said Myles with a groan, “although you’d better slow down a bit if you want me to last that long. Oh that’s good.”

  Maggie looked at him; he certainly seemed to be enjoying himself and she loved the way he was holding on to her, his urgency encouraging her to increase the tempo.

  “No, no, slow down,” Myles groaned, “this is too good. I don’t want to come yet.”

  As Myles had his eyes closed, Maggie slyly looked at her watch. It had only been a couple of minutes, there was no way she was going to last thirty; her thighs were already on fire. Trying to maintain the squat, she attempted to slow the pace, but as Myles thrust back she began to forget about her calorie burn as he began to increase his tempo.

  “Oh my God,” she sighed, “that’s so good, Myles, please don’t stop, Oh God, oh God, yes, yes, come on—”

  “Mrs Dunbar?” came a voice suddenly from the floor below.

  Maggie and Myles froze. “Oh shit,” Maggie hissed, allowing herself to fall onto Myles. “It’s Davie, the postman, he must have heard me, he knows I’m up here.”

  “Ignore him, he’ll go away,” whispered Myles.

  “Mrs Dunbar, it’s Davie. I’ve got a letter that needs signing for, are you in here?”

  “Don’t move!” hissed Myles.

  “He knows I’m in here,’ she whispered back. “He’ll climb up if I don’t stop him.”

  Panicking, Maggie frantically buttoned up her shirt. Then, running her fingers through her hair, she sat up and leaned over the edge.

  “Oh hi, Davie! What’s the problem?”

  “I just need a signature, Mrs Dunbar. Do you want me to come up, save you coming down if you’re busy?” Maggie couldn’t believe this; she never had letters that needed signing for. It was probably for Callum; the timing was unbelievable. She looked at Davie. His face was deadpan; he didn’t look as though he suspected what she was up to.

  “No, Davie, thanks but I’m fine,” replied Maggie, trying to stay calm. “Please don’t come up, the ladder’s a bit dodgy and I’m trying to bait rats. I’ve just seen a huge one at the back of the barn and I’ve got a lot of chemicals up here. I don’t want to get sued for you falling off a ladder or getting bubonic plague from a rat bite, do I?”

  Davie hesitated. He didn’t like the sound of the rat bite or the plague, but falling off a ladder might be worth the risk for a bit of compensation.

  “Are you sure you should be doing that by yourself? That’s not a nice job for a lady. I wouldn’t like to see you get hurt.”

  “I’m fine, Davie, I’m a rat-catching expert. I used to be in the army.”

  “Well I never knew that, Mrs Dunbar, what regiment was that then?”

  Maggie pinched Myles as he began to shake with laughter.

  “The Eton Rifles,” she replied, now slightly flustered.

  “There was a song about them, wasn’t there?” asked Davie innocently.

  “Look, Davie, it doesn’t matter what regiment I was in, I’m really very busy right now with this rat. Please can you just leave the post.”

  “I can’t leave the special delivery letter without a signature, Mrs Dunbar; it’s the rules. No signature, no letter.”

  “Oh come on, Davie, it’s not as if you don’t know me, just scrawl my initials in that Etch A Sketch contraption of yours. You can’t put a proper signature in it anyway, no one will know the difference.”

  Davie was defiant.

  “Sorry, I can’t, it’s more than my job’s worth, Mrs Dunbar. I can’t go round forging people’s signatures.”

  “But what if I had two arms in plaster? What would you do then?”

  “That’s different, and you haven’t, so I have to stick to the rules.”

  Maggie was exasperated.

  “Well if you can’t be bothered to put my initials in that machine, I might not bother with your usual bottle of single malt this Christmas. I’m not coming down, Davie, I’m in the middle of something. Just take it back then and come back tomorrow.”

  After quickly considering Christmas without a bottle of Maggie’s finest single malt whisky, Davie reluctantly scrawled Maggie’s initials in his machine.

  “Now don’t go telling anyone I just did that or I’ll be in big trouble,” he said seriously.

  “Thank you, Davie, your secret’s safe with me.” Maggie smiled. “You can leave the post there, I’ll make sure you’re rewarded handsomely this Christmas.”

  “I’ll look forward to it,” said Davie.
As he left the barn, Maggie and Myles collapsed in stifled, hysterical laughter.

  “That was bloody brilliant,” said Myles as he held her close to him. “You are seriously funny. I used to be in the army. What regiment, Mrs Dunbar? Eton Rifles. Just priceless.” Myles couldn’t stop laughing.

  Maggie couldn’t speak. She amazed herself sometimes, but the reality of the situation was actually terrifying. If Davie had guessed what she was really up to it would be all round the village before they’d finished having sex. If they did actually manage to have sex in the first place.

  “Here, have a drink. You look like you need it,” said Myles, passing her the champagne. Maggie looked pale. Her theatrical performance had obviously shaken her and she looked a little shell-shocked.

  “Do you think he believed me?” she said as she took a mouthful of champagne.

  “I think he was more concerned about his Christmas tip, you’re very generous with a bottle of single malt,” replied Myles as he stroked her cheek. “Anyway, don’t worry about it, I’m sure he didn’t realise you were naked from the waist down.”

  Maggie groaned, she didn’t want to think about it.

  “You’re lovely, Mags, and I do love you, you know,” said Myles suddenly. Maggie looked at him; he did actually look as though he meant it.

  “And I love you too, Myles, I really do. I just don’t know how we’re going to work things out. It all seems a bit of a mess at the moment.”

  And as Maggie allowed herself to sink into the safety of his arms, she vowed to make a serious plan. She couldn’t go on like this for much longer. Life was too short. She’d finally found someone she wanted to share her life with and the sooner she got it sorted out, the better.

  CHAPTER 39

  At six o’clock, Thor took the stairs from his office down to Reception and tried desperately not to laugh as he introduced himself to Rex and Callum. Rex looked like he’d borrowed his kid brother’s clothes and was very self-conscious. Callum, more suitably dressed for a round of golf in Malaga, held out his hand.