by Elle Casey
“So my jewels are safe?”
“For now,” she said, turning to go back to her machine.
“I was serious about showing you that exercise. I think you’d really like it.”
She kept walking, intending to blow him off, but his next comment got to her.
“It’ll help lengthen your muscles more, develop all of your quad instead of the more dominant parts.”
She hated when someone got into her head like that and figured out how to push her buttons. He’d just pushed a good one. She was a sucker for a complete workout that challenged all her muscle groups together and each muscle individually. And she knew that the leg lift machine sucked for that.
She turned around with a sigh. “Fine. Show me your exercise.” She walked with him back to the free-weights, catching Aimee’s and Elizabeth’s gazes from across the room. Both of them were smiling like loons and giving her a thumbs up behind their towels. She rolled her eyes and ignored them. Idiots. I feel like I’m in high school again. Aimee’s earlier similar comments echoed in her head. I guess it’s my turn to go back in time.
Ten minutes later her legs were burning with effort and Brent was urging her on. “That’s it, babe, you can do it. One more, one mooorrre … excellent!” He smiled at her, nodding his head. “I’m impressed. You’re strong. Even stronger than you look.”
“You’re no wimp yourself,” she said, wiping her face off with her towel, breathing heavily. “Well, thanks for sharing, Brent. I need to get back to my friends. See you around.”
She started to walk away, praying her legs weren’t visibly shaking. She was wiped out.
“Hey, Kiki? Are you busy later? Say around seven?”
“Yes.” She turned to look at him, even though she didn’t want to.
“You’re lying.”
Kiki looked at him in mock outrage. “Says who?”
“Says me. You’re no good at it. Listen, it’s not a big deal. It’s just that I have a client who has an opening tonight at a gallery, and I could use a plus one. I hate going to these things alone. They’re dreadfully dull sometimes.”
“So, you’re asking me to go out on a dreadfully dull date with you?”
“Uh, yeah. I guess I am.” He smiled, flashing the straightest, whitest teeth she’d ever seen not in a Crest commercial.
“No thanks. As tempting as it sounds.” She couldn’t help but smile back at him. His face was glowing from not only the sweat but merriment.
“Why not? Are you seeing someone?”
“No.”
“Afraid then,” he deadpanned.
“No, I’m not afraid,” she said, trying not to let her hackles rise up at that, since it was exactly what he wanted.
“Yes, you are. Afraid you’re going to have a good time. Which you probably would, since I’m a fun date. Or so I’ve been told.”
“I’m not afraid. I’m just not interested.”
“What if I said I have more workouts I could share with you? Free of charge.”
“Tempting. But not enough. I’m busy tonight.”
She turned to leave again but was stopped by his sincere voice.
“How about begging? Would begging make any difference? Because I’m willing to go there, if I have to. Although I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t make me.”
“I think you already are,” she laughed.
“Yeah, I guess I am. Come on, Kiki. Say yes. I promise not to offend you again. And if the thing is too boring, I’ll take you out dancing instead.”
Her eyes narrowed at him, but she could detect no underlying joke. He really didn’t seem to remember where he’d seen her. It was dawning on her that she could, for the first time in so many years she couldn’t remember, go out on a date with a guy who didn’t look at her like a stripper. At least, until he put two and two together and remembered who she was. She decided not to over-think it and just go with her gut.
“Fine. What time and where?”
“I can pick you up.”
“No. I’ll meet you there.”
“You’re feisty. I like that.” He seemed confused by his confession.
“You don’t seem the type.”
“I know. I’m usually not.” He reached into a small bag next to a nearby weight bench and pulled out a card and a pen, writing something on the back before handing it to her. “Here’s my card with the address and gallery name on the back. See you around seven?”
“Or so,” she said, turning to go join her friends. “See ya.”
She didn’t wait for his reply, instead focusing on her friends’ faces and chanting in her head as she walked away. Legs, don’t fail me now … Legs don’t fail me now…
Chapter 27
ELIZABETH STARTED FANNING HER FACE before Kiki walked up, trying really hard not to smile. As Kiki got within earshot, she started talking to Aimee in an overly casual tone. Aimee picked up on it right away.
“Wow, Aimee, is it hot in here or what?”
“Oh, yeah. Hot? Is it ever. Phew!” She started fanning her face too.
“I swear, I feel like I’m just going to combust!” said Elizabeth. “What about you, Kiki? Are you all hot now too?”
“Hot and bothered?” asked Aimee, her voice and expression pure innocence.
Kiki shook her head as the other two collapsed into giggles. “Geez, you two … do you have any idea how dorky you are?” She tried to act annoyed but couldn’t keep a straight face. “Come on, I’ve had enough. Let’s go.”
“What? Too hot for ya in here?” asked Aimee, going off into snorts, she was so pleased with herself.
Kiki just rolled her eyes. “Are you finished yet? The grown-ups have things to do today.”
Elizabeth took Kiki’s hand, forcing herself to stop laughing. “Okay. I’m going to control myself. For now. I want to hear all about your … hot … workout date over a fresh juice.” She coughed a little to stop her laugh from getting out of hand again. “Come on. My treat. Let’s go have a smoothie or something.”
“I guess I can have a wheatgrass,” said Kiki.
Aimee screwed up her face, looking like she’d smelled something bad. “Wheatgrass? I didn’t know people actually drank that stuff.”
They walked over to the juice bar. “We all are. It’s a requirement after a workout. Helps get the toxins out,” said Kiki.
“Maybe I like my toxins right where they are,” suggested Aimee.
“Nope. Your toxins are going bye-bye,” insisted Kiki. “Toxins can make your butt get lumpy if you’re not careful.”
Aimee got a scared look on her face and twisted around, trying to get a view of her rear end. “Seriously?”
“I’ve always been curious about what it tastes like,” said Elizabeth. “I’m willing to try anything once.”
“I’m so glad to hear you say that, Lizzie,” said Kiki, sounding a little evil.
Elizabeth looked at her suspiciously. “You’re making me nervous right now, Kiki. And don’t call me that.”
They ordered their shots of wheatgrass juice and then looked at Kiki for an explanation.
“Elizabeth and I have been invited to a gallery opening tonight. It starts at seven. I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty so we can be fashionably late. It’s downtown. Wear a short cocktail dress, preferably black, and heels.”
Elizabeth frowned at her. “That guy asked you and me out on a date?”
“Yeah,” said Kiki innocently.
“Waaait a minute,” said Aimee, suspicion written all over her face. “He did not. You’re just dragging Elizabeth along so you don’t have to be alone with him, aren’t you?”
“No.”
“Kiki!” admonished Aimee. “After all that rah, rah baloney you gave me today? You have a lot of nerve being such a wimp. Shame on you.” She put her hands on her hips for emphasis.
Elizabeth tried not to laugh at the comical scene it made. Aimee couldn’t look mean if she tried. “I’m with Aimee on this one,” she said. “You need to face
up to your fears and deal with them head-on. You can do it. You’re Wonder Woman.” She reached over and shook Kiki’s shoulder a little.
“First of all, I’m not Wonder Woman. And second of all, it’s a public place with art. You like art, right? Maybe we can find a starving young artist to help us decorate our cafe. I only agreed to go there for that reason. It’s business.”
“Yeah, right,” said Aimee.
“I do like art. But I’m not interested in being a third wheel on your date.”
Kiki closed her eyes as if searching for strength. Then she opened them and her expression changed to one of desperation. “Pleeease? I really don’t want to be alone with this guy.”
“Then don’t go, silly,” said Elizabeth, not really understanding what Kiki was getting at. That she was nervous about something was clear. But what it was?… Elizabeth had no clue.
“Why don’t you want to be alone with him?” asked Aimee. “Worried he’ll make a move on ya?”
“No. I’m worried he’ll …” She looked at the wheatgrass shots that had just been put on the counter and grabbed one, slamming it down in one quick gulp. She wiped off her mouth with the back of her hand and said, “Never mind. Forget I mentioned it.”
Elizabeth put her hand on Kiki’s arm. “Tell me. Something’s bothering you, and I want to hear what it is.”
“It’s no big deal, really.”
Kiki was acting overly casual about it, which made Elizabeth’s suspicio-meter needle go up to level nine. “Tell me or bad things will happen.”
“Bad things?” she laughed. “Is that a threat?”
“Yes. A big one.”
“Okay, miss threatening person, what bad things? What are you going to do to me if I don’t tell you my deep, dark secrets?”
“It’s not me who’s going to do it. It’s Aimee.”
Aimee stood with her glass in her hand, staring down into the dark green liquid. She looked up suddenly, hearing Elizabeth’s claim. “Me? … Oh, yeah. Me.” She narrowed her eyes and frowned. “Bad things, Kiki. Bad, bad things will happen. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Oh yeah, Mighty Mouse? Like what?”
“Like … I’ll take your shoe boxes and recycle them!”
“No!” gasped Kiki.
“Yes! And! I’ll … not bake you any more cookies!”
“Blasphemy!” said Kiki, trying to look seriously distraught.
“It’s true. I’d go that far. I already know which boxes I’m going to crush and put into the blue bin first. I’ll start with that pink Jimmy Shoe one.”
“It’s Jimmy Choo, dork.”
“Whatever. It’s going. In the bin. Today.”
“Fine. You want to know what’s bothering me so bad that you’d take it out on my innocent shoe boxes? I’ll tell you … it’s that he doesn’t remember where he saw me before. He’s asking me out because I’m an athletic-looking woman. Not because I’m a stripper.”
“And that’s a problem because…,” said Elizabeth.
“Because everyone I’ve dated since I was twenty-two or so has been fully aware of my career, if that’s what you want to call it. He isn’t. And he’s a corporate lawyer who doesn’t go into strip bars.”
“Well, sure he does. That’s where he met you the first time,” said Aimee.
“He only did that for work. It’s not his normal hangout.”
“And it’s not yours either. Not then and not now. Don’t let thoughts of what his impressions might be allow you to judge yourself harshly, sweetie. That’s not who you are,” said Elizabeth, finally figuring out what Kiki’s problem was. As tough and brave as Kiki was, she was not as sure about her life choices as she appeared to be. Even though they’d made her financially stable and allowed her to have a really comfortable life, she wasn’t proud of herself. That made Elizabeth sad. Kiki had everything to be proud of and nothing to be ashamed about.
Aimee must have picked up on it too. “Kiki. Honey child. You are the most with-it, intelligent, gorgeous girl I know, present company excluded of course - you and Elizabeth are tied in awesomeness - and there is no man alive who is good enough for you. But maybe this guy could come close. Why don’t you give him a chance? Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?” She turned her attention to Elizabeth. “Why don’t you go too? You stay home and at work too much. You need to get out. I say tonight, we all go out and then meet up tomorrow to do some business planning and boy gossiping. What do you say? Are you in?”
Elizabeth and Kiki exchanged glances.
“If you’re sure I won’t be a third wheel, I’ll go to the gallery opening. But that’s it! I’m not going anywhere else with you guys,” she warned. “I’m serious.”
“That’s it, I promise. And you don’t have to stay the entire time if the art sucks. You can come in, do a quick look around, and go if that’s what you want. Or you could stay. Whatever …”
Kiki looked so unsure of herself but hopeful, now that she knew Elizabeth was coming, that Elizabeth just had to hug her. “It’ll be fun,” she said as she squeezed Kiki once before letting her go. “I need to shop though. I don’t have a little black dress.”
“Whaaaat? Girl, what have you been doing with yourself that you didn’t need a little black dress at some point?”
“Seriously. Even I have one of those,” said Aimee.
Elizabeth shrugged. “I don’t get out much. I had a bad break up a couple years back, and it kind of made me shy away from the whole dating thing.”
“Yeah, but what about for work? Wouldn’t you need one for cocktail parties with clients?”
“If I went to them. I avoided those, too.” Saying it now made her feel like a shut-in or something. Why have I chosen to close myself off from the world so much? When did that happen?
“Well, I’m up for shopping if anyone else is,” suggested Aimee. “I could use a new pair of shoes.”
“Drink your wheatgrass and we’ll make a plan,” said Kiki, eyeing Aimee especially.
Aimee held her glass, the funny look still on her face as she stared down at the green juice inside. “Doan wanna,” she said, like a petulant child.
“Drink it. Or no shopping.”
Aimee stuck out her tongue before taking a sip of the drink. The expression on her face was classic. “Ewww! It tastes like … grass!”
Kiki and Elizabeth laughed.
“Well, duh,” Kiki said. “What did you expect? Bananas?”
“Something other than just grass,” she mumbled. “Do I have to?” Her eyes were pleading for mercy.
“I guess you don’t,” said Kiki, gathering up her gym bag from the floor, “if you don’t care about lumpy ass syndrome.”
Elizabeth turned away, but not before seeing Aimee swig the last of her wheatgrass down in one gulp.
Chapter 28
AIMEE WAS MORE NERVOUS FOR this date than she ever remembered being in her entire life. Her fingers were shaking as she tried to rub her moisturizer in.
“Aimee, can I come in? I need you to zipper me.”
“Yes, come in. I’m in the bathroom, trying not to throw up.”
Kiki entered, turning so Aimee could fix her dress for her.
“Nervous?”
“Oh my god, like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Did you douche?”
“Kiki!” Aimee yelled, half laughing and half choking as she pulled Kiki’s zipper up. “God, where do you come up with this stuff?” Then she thought about it for a second, immediately worried. “Should I have?”
Kiki smiled. “Not if you don’t want to.”
Aimee shook her worry off. “I don’t need to do that. It’s not like anything’s going to happen.” She kept telling herself that over and over, trying to convince herself that it’s what she wanted.
“You never know. Best to be prepared in my book.”
“But douching? I mean, is that normal? To do that before a date? God, it’s been so long since I’ve gone out with anyone but Jack …”
Kiki shrugged. “I guess it depends. Some people do it a lot. Some not at all. I was just messing with you. But seriously. Let’s talk about make-up.”
“Do mine!” said Aimee without hesitating. “You do it better than me, and I want to make a good impression.”
“Step into my salon,” said Kiki, motioning for Aimee to join her in her own bathroom.
Twenty minutes later Aimee gazed at a beautiful woman staring back at her from the mirror. “Wow. You are an artist. There’s no other way to describe what you do. I really need to learn this skill.” She leaned in to get a better look.
“It’s easy. Remind me next time, and I’ll give you a blow-by-blow lesson. But it’s fun for me to do, so as long as you’re my roomie, I’ll keep doing it for you.”
“Now I just need my shoes and I’ll be ready.” Aimee went to her room and put on the new heels she’d just bought on sale at the mall, returning to Kiki’s room to get her feedback. “How do I look?”
“Gorjamuss. Totally gorjamuss. You’re going to blow his mind. And maybe some other parts of him if he’s really lucky.”
“Kiki!” Aimee squeaked. “Holy crap. Now I’m going to be thinking about that all night, thanks to you.”
“That’ll make two of you, then,” said Kiki, smiling devilishly.
“Do you really think so? Do guys really think about that a lot?”
“Pretty much every time they look at your mouth.”
“No sir! Oh, shit. I think I need less lipstick. Or more lipstick. What should I do? I’m so confused!”
Kiki laughed. “Just relax. There’s nothing you can do but be yourself. If he likes who you are when you’re being Aimee, you’re golden. If you have to pretend to be someone else to make him like you, he isn’t worth it. Faking it gets exhausting.”
“Wise words,” said Aimee, nodding her head. “You should listen to them too.”
“I will. And I have my crutch Elizabeth there to watch over me and smack me if I get out of line.”
“I’m going to text her right now and remind her of that duty,” mumbled Aimee as she tapped away at her keypad.
The doorbell rang as she typed the last letter of her message. “Oh no! He’s here!” she stage-whispered.
