Desperate Measures

by Elle Casey

  Bill sighed heavily, indicating he was already worn out from Elizabeth’s questioning about schedules, peak usage hours, age of equipment, and about twenty other things Aimee would never have thought to ask. “Follow me,” he said, not nearly as enthusiastic as he’d been twenty minutes earlier.

  The closer they got, the more nervous Kiki acted. Aimee kept a close eye on her. When they were halfway there, she noticed a guy that Kiki was deliberately avoiding looking at. A scrumptious one.

  “Holy hotness. Do my eyes deceive me or is there a god in our midst?” Aimee said, looking directly at Kiki.

  “Who? That guy over there?” asked Kiki pointing to someone only half as cute as the one she was pretending not to see.

  “Please, Kiki. You’re not fooling anyone. Who is that amazing hunka burnin’ love over there? Fess up or I’ll go ask him myself.”

  Kiki whipped around and grabbed her arm. “Don’t!”

  “Sheesh, okay. I won’t. But you have to tell me who he is now. We’re workout partners and roommates. I’m pretty sure there’s a rule that says we have to talk about guys together.”

  “I want in on this,” said Elizabeth, “especially if you’re talking about tall, dark, and mouthwatering over there in the gray shirt and black shorts that I wish were just a tad tighter.” She licked her lips for emphasis.

  Kiki sighed loudly. “Yes, that’s him. I’ll tell you later. Until then, be cool. And stop staring at him … Aimee!”

  “Oh. Sorry. I’m trying, but he’s really, really cute. I can’t help myself.” And now he was only about ten paces away. Aimee had to force herself to look at Bill instead. The poor guy was ready to bail; he kept looking at his watch and the door. Aimee figured it was probably a slow month or something that kept him hanging on at all.

  “So, this is the free-weights area,” he said in a bored tone. “Any questions?”

  Aimee giggled. Bill wasn’t even going to bother telling them about it. She raised her hand. “I have a question,” she said, a mischievous tone in her voice.

  “No, she doesn’t,” said Kiki, pushing her arm down and trying to steer her away from the area.

  “No, I really do!” said Aimee, twisting away from Kiki so she could stay in front of Bill. “I’m wondering if … um … ” She wanted to stay there longer but couldn’t think of any legit questions to ask. She was saved by Elizabeth’s OCD-driven ingenuity.

  “I’d like to know how many hand barbells you have of each weight level. I want to be sure during peak hours there will be enough to go around.”

  Bill rolled his eyes, but began reciting his equipment list to her as she stood there nodding, while looking over several times at the hot guy.

  Aimee had plenty of time to pretend she was looking at the floor and ceiling while she checked him out from every possible angle. Luckily, he was standing in front of some mirrors while he did bicep curls.

  Kiki started tapping her foot. “I’m ready to sign, Bill. But if you don’t put a contract in front of me in about two minutes, I’m outta here.”

  Bill perked up and said, “Be right back!” before disappearing like a jackrabbit into one of the offices ringing the outside of the workout area.

  “Nice move, Kiki,” said Aimee.

  “Somebody had to stop the madness.”

  “I was just giving Aimee enough time to do her inspection. I’ve seen enough to join,” said Elizabeth.

  Just then the hot guy put down his weights and grabbed a towel to wipe his face. Aimee knew the exact moment he caught Kiki’s reflection in the mirror. The towel stilled in his hand and slowly dropped down to his side, as his eyes locked on hers. His head tilted to the side as if he were trying to place her. Then recognition seemed to dawn as his eyes widened. He threw down his towel and made a move to walk toward her.

  Aimee nudged Elizabeth so they could both watch the sparks start to fly across the room. No one said anything. Kiki’s face got a light pink color near her cheeks, giving her a beautiful glow.

  “Time to go,” she said, spinning on her heal.

  The guy stopped in his tracks when he saw her walking away in a hurry. He blinked a couple times, shrugged, and then returned to the bench where his cell phone was sitting. He picked it up and started pressing buttons, no longer looking in Kiki’s direction.

  “Dammit. We almost had a connection there,” said Aimee.

  “You’re playing matchmaker?” said Elizabeth.

  “Yes. I think. Isn’t he cute?”

  “More like drop-dead gorgeous.”

  “And so is Kiki.” Aimee sighed. “They’d make beautiful babies,” she said dreamily.

  Elizabeth snorted. “Could you see Kiki with a bunch of rug rats running around her feet?”

  “Yes, actually, I could see that.”

  Elizabeth didn’t respond right away. Then she said, “Yeah, me too, I guess. She has that whole momma bear thing going on.”

  “Totally,” agreed Aimee.

  “Come on. She’s going to run out of here if we don’t go sign those contracts right now.”

  “Okay. But at least we know he goes to this gym. It shouldn’t be too hard to find him again.”

  “I’m putting that on your to-do list.”

  “What?”

  “Finding out who that guy is and why Kiki’s so afraid of him.”

  “Hmmm,” said Aimee, her most devious voice coloring her words, “a mission impossible … I accept.”

  Chapter 20

  KIKI WANTED TO GET THE heck out of there. This sales guy was getting the perfect setup for a slam-dunk of a deal. She needed to be gone before Lola’s board member lawyer decided to get brave and come talk to her.

  She’d recognized him from the club. The guy who’d had a front row seat for her final performance. Normally, she wouldn’t care who saw her after work; but for some reason, she did now - especially with this guy.

  “Okay, I’m all set. Here’s your application and my credit card info, Bill. Ready to go, Aimee?”

  “In a minute. I have to give him a check.” Aimee took her time filling out the slip, making sure her handwriting was perfect.

  Kiki sighed heavily. “You know the bank’s not going to care if your curly-cues aren’t on every letter.”

  Aimee ignored her, finishing her signature with a flourish. “There. All done. Now we can go, Miss Pushy Pants.” Aimee smiled at Bill, but he didn’t bother returning the nicety. The sale was over and now he just had work to do.

  Elizabeth had already finished and put away her copies of the paperwork. “Where are you girls off to now?”

  “We’re going back home to put stuff away and get going on the planning. What about you?”

  “Same. Going home to get started on the pro formas.”

  They walked out the front door together. “How about we make a plan to meet here tomorrow for our first workout, and then we can sit at the juice bar after and discuss our progress?” suggested Aimee.

  Kiki couldn’t very well insist that she didn’t want to come here, now that she’d just signed the forms and promised Aimee she’d be her workout partner - even though that’s exactly what she wanted to do. “Okay. That’s fine with me. Except they’re closed on Sunday so it’ll have to be Monday.”

  “Excellent,” said Elizabeth. “Monday it is. What time?”

  “Ten in the morning?” Aimee looked at the others, obviously excited about the prospect of her first day.

  “Ten it is. See you girls Monday, then.” Elizabeth leaned in for hugs, which were happily given.

  “Bye! Call us if you have questions!” said Kiki from across the parking lot.

  “Will do!”

  “Oh wait!” exclaimed Aimee. “I forgot to give Elizabeth her cookies!” She waited for Kiki to unlock her door and grabbed the plate off the seat, running over to Elizabeth’s car to deliver them.

  Kiki started the engine and put on her seatbelt, trying to act very busy with adjusting the mirror and radio to keep Aimee from asking
her questions. She should have known it would be useless.

  The first thing Aimee said when she got back to the car and climbed in was, “So who’s the guy?”

  “What guy?” It’s worth a shot.

  “Don’t play games with me. I am the master of no fun. There will be no games today. I’m talking about the level-ten hot guy in the free-weights section. The one who was coming over to talk to you before you ran away.”

  “I didn’t run.”

  “You ran. And frankly, I’m pretty disappointed. I thought you were fearless.”

  “I am. Except with that guy for some reason.”

  Aimee got a concerned look on her face. “Oh, no! Is he like … one of those pimps you told me about? Oh, shoot, I was thinking about setting you up with that jerk. Now I feel like a total idiot. I’m so sorry … ”

  “No, no, Aimee, you’re getting the wrong idea. He’s not a pimp. Not at all.” She sighed. She was in too deep now to not say anything about him. “He’s a member of the board for Lola’s … the place I used to work. I think he’s a lawyer.”

  Aimee frowned. “Might as well just call him a pimp, then.”

  Kiki laughed. “Not all lawyers are assholes.”

  “Yes, they are.”

  Kiki couldn’t keep the smile off her face. She couldn’t remember now why she was so reticent about telling Aimee the secret. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. “Well, maybe a lot of them are. But I don’t even really know this guy. He was there on the night of my last performance, sitting in the front row.”

  “Oh, wow. That’s kind of sexy, actually. Did he ask you out after?”

  “No. He didn’t tip me, so I refused to speak to him.”

  “He stiffed you? What a bum! See? I told you. They’re all pimps at heart … think the world owes ‘em.”

  “He wasn’t the type to go to that kind of club. I could see it all over his face.”

  “Well, why was he there, then? Trying to get a free look?”

  “The manager told me this board, which is made up of mostly attorneys, had gotten involved to class up the place. Try to get it more profitable. I don’t know … maybe the DeLuccas are going to sell it to someone or something. Franchise it. I have no idea.”

  “Huh. So this guy was at the club, a place he doesn’t normally go, watching you shake your tooshie, and then you blew him off?”

  “Yeah. That’s about right.”

  “So now he’s going to want you bad.”

  “Not necessarily. Life is not like Pretty Woman, Aimee. Most guys don’t want an exotic dancer for a girlfriend.”

  “You’re not an exotic dancer anymore, first of all, and second, any guy who doesn’t bother to get to know you first before he rejects you is a butthead anyway and not worth your time.”

  Kiki smiled. “I like the way your mind works, Aimee.”

  “It’s just common sense. You have a lot to offer the right guy, so you have to be selective.”

  “You could be talking about yourself, you know. Seems like that Joe guy might be a good candidate.”

  “Pffft. Right. I’m damaged goods, Kiki. I can’t afford to be picky like you. But that doesn’t mean I’ll go with just any guy. I’ve already been tied to one prick for long enough.”

  “What are you talking about? You’re not damaged goods, that’s ridiculous.” Kiki was angry that Aimee felt this way about herself. That guy Jack had really done a number on her self-confidence.

  Aimee’s voice lost its cheer and energy. “I didn’t really tell you this before; I thought you might have guessed it …” She sighed sadly before continuing, “I can’t have kids. I’m barren.”

  Kiki barked out a laugh. “Barren? Have you been reading too many historical romances, or what? Who says that anymore?”

  “I thought it sounded more dramatic.” A small smile began to show at the corner of her lips.

  “Oh, it does.” Kiki was still chuckling. “How do you know it’s you that’s the problem? Maybe it’s him.”

  “Well, he got Tiffany pregnant. And we tried for several years without success, so you do the math.”

  “Did you ever see a specialist?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Well, I asked my gynecologist to check me - which he did - and he didn’t see any reason why I couldn’t have kids. But Jack would never agree to pay for a fertilization specialist, so I guess the only proof I have is years of trying with nothing but failure … and now a pregnant paramour, of course.”

  “Again with the eighteen hundred’s language.”

  “It’s more …”

  “Yes. I know. It’s more dramatic. Anyway, it could still be him. Maybe he has slow swimmers or something. Why didn’t he allow you to go to a specialist?”

  “He didn’t want to spend the money.”

  Kiki rolled her eyes. “Please. That guy drives an Aston Martin, and your house is like five thousand square feet. Do you know how much those things cost?”

  “Yes. I took care of all of our accounting. He has his spending priorities, and I wasn’t at the top of that list. Ever.”

  “What a toad. How could you have ever married that guy? I mean, no offense, but I don’t see any redeeming qualities in him. He must have been awesome in bed. But even so, you could do so much better.”

  Aimee laughed. “Ha! That’s funny. Thank you for saying that. I wish I believed it. I have this little devil on my shoulder telling me I can’t do better. Isn’t that sad? And for the record, Jack stunk in bed. I think. He’s the only guy I’ve ever slept with. I don’t think I’ve ever had … well … you know.”

  “Had what?”

  Aimee sighed. “You know. One of those things … that everyone talks about.”

  “Are you talking about an orgasm?”

  “Yes.”

  “Trust me, Aimee … if you’d had one, you’d know it. You wouldn’t wonder. It’s too obvious to not know.” She looked over at her friend. “You poor thing. You’re what? Thirty-three? Thirty-four? And you’ve never had an orgasm?”

  “Thirty-three. And, well, maybe I have had one. But not with him.” Her face was turning pink.

  “That’s just plain sad and disturbing … that you’ve been with that man for over ten years, and he’s never given you an orgasm. And he’s somehow convinced you that it’s your fault. A-mazing.” She shook her head, feeling really bad for her friend. She reached over and patted Aimee on the arm. “I’m so glad you’re not with him anymore. He doesn’t deserve you. We need to get you some man-created orgasms stat. The self-initiated ones are okay, but they really don’t compare in my book.”

  Aimee laughed. “I’ll take your word on that.” She got sober again and said, “Jack wasn’t always bad. Or maybe he was in the beginning and he just hid it better than he does now. When we first met, I had just graduated high school and was going into community college. I did two years - almost finished my associates - and then Jack and I got married. I wanted to keep going for my four-year degree, but he convinced me to stop.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Well, at the time, he said he needed me to be home for him, to run our household and help him with his new law practice. But looking back, I think it was more to just control my every move. He never liked it when I spent time out of the house doing my own thing.”

  “God, that’s so sad. You’re such a smart girl. How come you put up with that for so long?”

  Aimee shrugged. “I’m not sure. In the beginning, I was flattered that he was so possessive. It made me feel desired and special.”

  Kiki started shaking her head. This was a story she’d seen played out over and over in the lives of women she knew.

  “I know. You don’t approve. Neither do I. It’s kind of embarrassing, actually. I can’t believe I acted so weak for so many years. I let him brainwash me. Ugh. I hate thinking about it now.” She turned and looked out the side window.

  “Don’t beat yourself up
. Lots of smart women fall for that shit.”

  Aimee turned back toward Kiki, and Kiki noticed her friend’s smile had returned.

  “The side benefit to being a shut-in is that I kind of threw myself into cooking. If I’d had friends and interests outside of the home, I wouldn’t be of any use to you in starting Desperate Measures.”

  “I think the name of this business is taking on more and more meaning for all of us,” said Kiki, nearly lost in thought. How do beautiful, loving, smart women get into these situations that she and her two new friends found themselves in?

  They arrived at the apartment after passing through the security gate with the clicker Kiki kept in her car, and immediately began unpacking the rest of Aimee’s things. In two hours, the kitchen was completely reorganized to Aimee’s liking and a fresh batch of cookies was in the oven.

  “Okay, so what’s next?” asked Aimee, a smudge of flour on her cheek.

  Kiki reached over and gently brushed it off. “Now we sit down and brainstorm … and make some phone calls. I want to get this business planning done A-S-A-P. I know we talked about six months to opening day, but I’m thinking more like three.”

  Aimee’s eyes went wide. “You think we can get it done that fast?”

  “We … can do anything we put our minds to.”

  Aimee nodded her head. “Yes. You are absolutely right. Let’s do this.”

  They sat at the table for the next three hours, pausing in their business planning only to take care of cookies. By the time they were finished, they had a draft of a menu and a list of equipment items that Aimee would need.

  “There. The list is done. Now we just have to figure out how much this equipment is going to cost,” said Kiki. She took her first bite of a cookie, her eyes going wide as the taste made its way to her palate. “Holy crap, Aimee! These things are amazing! I can’t believe you did this in my kitchen.” She examined the cookie more carefully. “I didn’t think my oven was capable of putting out something of this quality.”

  “I could do better with a professional oven,” said Aimee, obviously pleased with the compliment.