I cry on the drive to the gym. But once I get there, I wipe my eyes and tell myself to be strong. To keep it together. I’m not going to cry at my brand new job and look like some emotional wreck that should be fired. I don’t feel very strong right now, but I tell myself I am.
Maybe I’ll just fake like I am. Hopefully that will work.
13
Noah
I have got to get out of my house. Being here alone with only my dogs for company isn’t helping. I love my dogs, and they’ll listen to me talk, but they provide no advice. And their happy smiles and wagging tails only do so much for the misery I’m in over these stupid emails.
I’ve replied a few more times to this mysterious person, each time trying to figure out if maybe it’s Tasha. But the person on the other end of the emails gives me no real concrete clues about their identity. I’m still slightly worried that maybe this is a prank. Some friend of mine trying to trick me into thinking I have a secret admirer when really I don’t.
I glance over and look at myself in the reflection of the large glass doors that lead out onto my back patio. I’m not a bad looking guy. I know that. I work out and keep up my appearance. Every time we post a group photo to the Roca Springs Fitness Instagram account, people comment on how attractive all of us are. So I know I’m not some ogre.
But why does the idea of someone liking me make me feel like it’s a joke?
I’ve been single so long. I’ve been dedicated to this job for so long. I just never gave time to dating, and for a while it felt like it didn’t matter. Building this business was all that mattered because it was the key to my future success. I refuse to be living paycheck to paycheck, constantly risking foreclosure or having my cars repossessed like my parents. They’ve spent their entire lives in debt, and miserable. That won’t be me.
I studied hard in college, working my way through it with various internships and part time jobs, not wanting to take out any student loans that weren’t necessary. There just wasn’t time for girls back then.
When I started Roca Springs Fitness with Brent and Kris, there also wasn’t time to worry about dating. This gym had to be perfect, down to every last detail. The paperwork and permits and style and design. The vendors we chose, the marketing plan, the finances. It all mattered. It couldn’t be done half-heartedly. I took charge and made sure everything was done perfectly right.
That’s why I’m the boss. Not the chill one, and not the cool one. I’m just the boss. And I’ve sacrificed my happiness in the process.
But now the gym is up and running, and it’s doing very well. I can breathe a little bit now. We have employees and a bookkeeper to handle the payroll. I have time off now. I can date.
I want to date.
Tasha’s beautiful smile flashes in my mind, the way she’ll meet my gaze across the gym and brighten up, giving me a little wave. I think she’s just being friendly. Or maybe sucking up to the boss. Why wouldn’t she smile at me, after all? I’m the one who hired her.
But I wish she was smiling because she liked me. I wish she was the person behind these emails. But I don’t think she is.
My phone beeps and just like that, I’m all worked up again. It’s a new email from the anonymous admirer.
From: SecretCrush88
But what if you don’t like me back?
The last email I had sent her was asking yet again why she won’t tell me her identity.
I chew on the inside of my lip and then decide on a reply.
From: Noah Hunter
How about this. Next time I see someone that I’m interested in, I’ll say a code word. If it’s you, you say a code word back to me. And we’ll know we like each other.
From: SecretCrush88
Okay. You say the codeword top hat. I’ll reply with Monocle.
I laugh out loud, picturing that cartoon Mr. Peanut character or something when I think of the words top hat and monocle. I reply and tell her she has a deal. Would Tasha come up with that phrase as a code word? Is this mysterious person her?
For what must be the millionth time since I got this person’s first email, I think over my life and all the people in it. I try to think of any woman I know that might have a crush on me. I’m friendly with everyone, but no particular woman stands out. I can’t stop thinking about Tasha, and how badly I want her to be the girl behind the emails. It starts driving me really stir crazy while I sit here in my house. It’s Saturday. I should get out and do something.
In an attempt to clear my head, I drive across town to a local park that has great walking trails. I put my headphones in my ears and blast some music and run. I’m going to run until my body can’t run anymore. Maybe that will help put an end to this constant stream of thinking about Tasha.
Everything is going well for the first mile and a half. I’m sprinting through the trails as they weave around tall pine trees and playgrounds. There aren’t many people here, so I don’t have to maneuver around them. I can just run freely, breathing in deeply and trying to clear my mind.
Then I see her.
Tasha.
I’m ashamed to admit I recognize the backside of her first. It’s not that I’m a creeper who has memorized her butt, but once you see it in those workout pants of hers, you can’t unsee it. She’s wearing the black leggings with the red stripe down the side, and a matching red sports bra. She’s jogging at a slower speed than I am, and I’ll catch up to her any second. I can tell she’s wearing wireless headphones so she probably can’t hear me approaching. I slow down, debating what I should do. Maybe turn around and ignore her. But I don’t want to do that.
I slowly catch up to her, then match her speed. She looks over.
I smile.
She smiles.
It’s that smile again. The one she gives me every time we see each other at work. Maybe I’m imagining it, but I swear she doesn’t smile like this to anyone else.
She reaches up and pulls out one of her headphones. “Hey, boss.”
My heart sinks a little. I don’t want her to think of me as her boss. I want her to think of me as something more. “What’s up?” I say, not letting my voice show my true feelings at the moment. Nope, I’m looking like the perfectly nice boss that I am.
“Just trying to jog off some stress,” she says, slowing down to a walk. I walk next to her.
“Same here.”
“Stress is the worst.”
I nod. She has no idea that my stress is because of her. Not in a bad way… but in a very good way. It’s the best kind of stress I’ve ever felt.
“I hope the job isn’t what’s contributing to your stress,” I say.
She shakes her head. “No, I love working at the gym.”
That’s good to hear. I don’t want her quitting any time soon.
A little girl holding the leash of a dog twice her size comes walking toward us, her mom trailing behind them, staring at her phone. One squirrel could appear in one of these trees and that dog would be off leash in a heartbeat, chasing after it. I hate when parents don’t watch their kids or their pets.
Tasha and I step to the side to let them pass. When we step back onto the sidewalk, I can’t help but look over at her, and my whole body feels warm and tingly. She’s just that beautiful. I can’t help it.
Then, I remember the emails. A burst of adrenaline shoots right through me. Could this be it? Am I about to find out that she likes me as much as I like her?
“You know what I want?” I say, trying and failing to find a way to work this naturally into the conversation.
“What?” she asks.
“A top hat.”
She lifts an eyebrow. All my hopes come crashing down as all my fears rise to the surface. “Okay…” she says with a little laugh. “You don’t see top hats very often. Do they still make them?”
I can barely focus on what she says, because all my brain is picking up on is the fact that she didn’t reply with the word monocle. She’s not my email admirer. I was almost con
vinced that she was, and now she’s not.
For all I know now, Tasha doesn’t see me as anything other than her boss.
I clear my throat and smile and try to shrug it off. This is the biggest disappointment and here I am acting like it’s nothing. “I just think top hats are cool,” I say with a little laugh. “So anyway, how’s your stress level doing? Want me to leave you alone so you can jog some more?”
I don’t want to leave her alone, but it feels like the right thing to do. If she doesn’t like me, I need to get out of her way. Putting myself in her life like this, outside of a professional setting, is just begging to get my heart broken.
She shrugs. “No, it’s not helping my stress at all. Running is supposed to release endorphins or whatever but…” She tosses up her hands in defeat. “I don’t think it works on me.”
In just a few seconds, her entire demeanor has changed. She’s dropped into a sadness that I’ve never seen before.
“What’s wrong?” I’m not entirely sure it’s my place to ask it, but I do anyway. I can’t help myself. I want to know about her. All of her—the good, the bad, the stuff she tries to keep hidden.
She’s silent for a few moments, the only sounds the smacking of our shoes against the pavement. Then she takes a ragged breath. “I lost my grandmother’s necklace.”
“Here?” I say, immediately scanning the ground. “Let’s look for it.”
She shakes her head. “No, not here.”
Her voice is all warbly and I realize she’s about to cry. “I…I had to pawn it to get my car back…I was supposed to have two weeks to buy it back but—they sold it.”
She’s in full on tears now, her hand covering her mouth and her shoulders shaking from sobbing. I stop and turn to face her.
“Tasha,” I say softly, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s sit down.”
I guide her to a nearby bench where she collapses onto it as if she has no strength left. The tears just keep on coming. She looks up at me through bloodshot eyes.
“It was beautiful. It was hers. I—I should have never pawned it. I was so stupid, but I needed the money. I can’t believe they sold it. I was supposed to have two weeks! I went back after one week and it was gone.”
“Okay, that’s not cool.” I shake my head, feeling anger flood through my muscles. “Which pawn shop was it? I’d be calling a lawyer or something. They can’t get away with this.”
She only sobs harder. I realize this might be one of those times where someone just wants me to listen and not try to fix it.
“I can’t afford a lawyer,” she says into her hands. She’s crouched over, her shoulders jolting with each sob.
I reach out and put an arm around her, trying to make her feel better even though I know it’s useless. “I’m so sorry,” I say.
“Everything is just so freaking hard.” She looks up, her gaze directed at the trees in front of us. “Janie and her school work and her behavior issues. And the bills. And my stupid car wreck because I’m an idiot. I thought things were looking up when I got this job but they didn’t. They just got worse.”
I squeeze her close to me, letting her talk it all out. I don’t say anything because I don’t think she wants me to. I think she just needs a friend right now.
“And then that jerk Jason,” she mutters before sinking her face into her hands again. “I hate him. I hate him.”
I stiffen. Jason. That’s the older coworker that made her cringe when she talked about him at work.
“What did he do?” I ask, my voice hard.
“He’s a jerk,” she says between sobs. “He only pretended to be helping me when really he wanted—” She draws in a ragged breath. “Ugh. You know how men are.”
White hot rage flows through me. That guy took advantage of her. I don’t know how, but I can tell it’s really upset her. I grit my teeth. If I ever see him again…
“If you need help with anything, you just let me know.”
She looks up and wipes the tears from her eyes. When they meet mine, she recoils. “Oh God. Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I just cried like an idiot to my boss!”
“It’s fine,” I say, giving her a soft smile to show that I’m serious. “I’m here.”
She shakes her head. “No, it’s not fine. I’m really sorry. I swear, I’m not a drama queen. I’m totally professional.”
“Tasha,” I say, touching her arm. “Your job is not in danger. I promise.”
Her lips press together like she’s holding back more tears. “Thanks, Noah.”
“I mean, I know I’m your boss, but we’re also friends. We can be both.”
Her eyes flood with tears again, and she reaches up and throws her arms around my neck. “Thank you,” she murmurs against me as she squeezes me tightly.
I squeeze her back. And then my heart falls straight to my stomach as I realize what I just said. We’re friends.
I said we’re friends.
It’s the truth, of course.
But I just wish we were more than that.
14
Tasha
By Monday, I’m even more embarrassed than I was at the park that day. All weekend, my humiliation and shame just seeped into my pores and expanded, making me cringe every time I relive what happened with Noah at the park. I can’t believe I cried in front of my boss.
Not only that, I poured out all my problems like some kind of pathetic drama queen.
To my boss.
My friggen boss.
Ugh.
I shudder and try to take a deep breath. The school day is over, but I have to stay for thirty more minutes until all my kids have left for their bus. The busses run in three increments, every ten minutes, and when it’s raining outside like it is now, the kids stay in the classroom until their bus arrives.
Five of the students have asked if I’m okay today. I guess they can see the sadness and shame and just general awfulness written all over my face. Not only am I horrified at how I acted in front of Noah, I’m still hurting from losing my grandmother’s necklace. I did some searching online, and I don’t think it would be worth it to try to sue the pawn shop. Yeah, they broke the rules of selling my necklace before the official date, but hiring a lawyer would cost so much more than the necklace was even worth. And I doubt the pawn shop would even care. They’ll just keep operating their stupid shady business with no regards for people who are in a tight spot and want to get their items back.
My heart aches for this lost piece of jewelry. It’s not even about the value. It was my grandmother’s and she was the sweetest, most amazing person I’ve ever known. I feel like she’d be so disappointed in me right now. And I can’t stand this feeling. It’s worse than being miserable about money. It’s worse than feeling like I’ve failed Janie. Knowing I’ve failed my grandmother is a disappointment like no other.
The last round of busses finally arrive and I tell the kids bye, waving at them as they climb onto the bus. Then I walk back to my temporary classroom and pack up my things, my heart still heavy with regret and shame.
“Knock, knock.”
My skin goes cold when I hear his voice. It’s been over a week since I kicked him out of my apartment and we haven’t spoken since. But there he is now, standing in the doorway.
“What?” I say, my voice cold and unforgiving.
“Just figured you had time to cool off from your little drama fest the other day,” Jason says, walking into the classroom. He fixes his slimy grin right on me.
Drama fest? Is that what he calls it? He’s the one being a total creep. Me telling him to leave was necessary, not dramatic.
“I haven’t cooled off,” I say, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave.
Instead he takes a step closer to my desk.
I stand up, grab my bag and start walking. It’s time to go home anyway, so there’s no reason for me to stay here listening to him be a creep. The sound of his footsteps follow me down the hallway, and I suppress a cringe.
/> I guess I should have expected him to follow me. He starts talking all kinds of stupid crap about how I’m just young and I don’t know what I want. I try to tune him out, but it’s impossible. Jason’s voice is just as loud as it is condescending.
Me phone is in my hand and it vibrates with a new group text from the gym. Brent just asked if everyone likes tamales because he’s bringing a bunch for dinner.
Noah writes back: duhhhhh
And I get an idea.
I pull up a text to Noah and type: please call me and say it’s an emergency and that I need to be at work now.
“You women and your phones,” Jason says with a scoff as he continues to walk right next to me down the hallway. “Always obsessing over social media.”
I don’t say anything. Instead, I say some silent prayers that another teacher will walk out and interrupt us. Or that maybe Jason will trip and fall and break his nose or something. It’s not that I want to wish harm on anyone but… a broken nose would be well-deserved in my opinion.
“You should let me take you out on a real date,” Jason says as we reach the end of the hall and turn down another longer hall. Why, oh why did I have to sub in a class so far away from the parking lot today?
“The idiot boys your age don’t know how to take a woman on a real date,” he says. Ugh, is he still talking?
My phone rings. I’ve never been happier to see Noah’s name on my phone in my life. Normally when one of my three bosses call me, I get scared that they’re calling to say I’m fired or something.
“This is my boss,” I say, interrupting whatever nonsense Jason is talking about right now. “I have to take this.”
“You know you wouldn’t need a second job if you were with me,” he says. “I would take care of you. The boys your age can’t make that same promise. They don’t make nearly as much money.”
Flirting with the Boss: A love at the Gym Novel Page 7
