by M. E. Carter
“Did you order that?” I gesture to his drink.
He picks up his straw and begins removing the paper. “No.”
“And somehow Tabitha just knew you wanted it.”
“It’s my usual.”
Turning to face front, I put my own straw in my mouth and mutter, “Mmm hmmm,” while sucking. “Mascot,” I whisper.
After taking his own long drink, Frank turns his head to me. “Can I at least be a really virile mascot, like a lion or a wolf? Something sexy.”
His comment makes me choke on my drink in laughter. Tabitha comes from out of nowhere, handing me napkins to cover my mouth so I don’t spray liquid everywhere.
“What happened?”
Through my coughing, while Frank continues to pat my back, I laugh out, “Frank wants to be sexy like a wolf.”
Tabitha cocks her head, and I expect her to ask what the hell we’re even talking about. Instead she thinks for a second and says, “A wolf? How about a jaguar? I could see you as a jaguar.”
Frank’s eyes light up even more. “Oooh! A jaguar! Yes. If I’m the gym mascot, that’s what I’ll be.”
Having sorted that out, Tabitha taps her hand on the counter once and heads to the cash register. I shake my head at the ridiculousness of it all, getting the last of the liquid out of my airway. I also note that the pineapple/mango smoothie doesn’t taste nearly as good coming back up as it does going down.
Frank leans in to speak quietly to me. “So, now that you know I’m here every day, including Sundays, you must realize that means I know you don’t come on Sundays. Which begs the question, why the change in routine?”
I can’t tell him the truth—because Carlos is invading my thoughts and I had some restless energy I needed to get out. As great as Frank is, I haven’t even figured my own self out this time. I don’t want the complication of trying to explain it to someone else, too.
“I guess what they say is true. Those endorphins are addicting.”
“Hmm.” I can’t look at him. I don’t think he bought that explanation and looking at him will confirm it. “You sure it doesn’t have anything to do with a certain dinner mate you got cozy with the other night?”
My head whips over so fast to look at him, it’s a wonder I don’t break my neck. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t get cozy with anyone except Jose Jose and his amazing enchiladas, thank you very much. Besides, how would you even know? You were too busy making googly eyes at Tabitha to notice anyone around you.”
Deflection. Works every time.
He waves me off with a noncommittal noise and crosses his arms. “That was nothing. Tabitha and I flirt like that all the time. It keeps my skills fresh for my girlfriend.”
“Wait.” My brows furrow. I wasn’t expecting that. “You have a girlfriend?”
“For the last seven years.”
“Then why didn’t you bring her with you to dinner?”
He shrugs like the answer is a no-brainer. “She has her life, and I have mine.”
“But… she’s your girlfriend.”
“Right.”
“Don’t you enjoy spending time with her?”
“Of course, I do. That doesn’t mean I don’t have time for other things, too. Honey, I’m retired. I can spend my morning at the gym, have dinner with you, and still have six hours in the middle there with her. She gets more of my time than anyone else. You just don’t see it.”
Huh. I never thought of it that way. Suddenly, I’m looking forward to retiring if it means living life like Frank does.
“It also means I have more time than most to hone my powers of observation. So, tell me, has a certain muscled man caught your attention? Is that why you’re here?”
Dammit. I was hoping Frank’s mind was slipping a little with age. But, of course, he’s sharp as a tack. Probably because he only drinks the good booze keeping his brain fully lubricated. That also means I’m doomed from all my poor people drinks. Never underestimate how excited a poor college student gets when Boone’s Farm is on sale.
I sigh deeply, not wanting to open up to Frank, but not feeling like I can leave him hanging either.
“I think… I feel like maybe I misjudged him a bit. Like maybe first impressions aren’t always accurate, and I need to rectify some things.”
He nods in understanding, arms crossed over his surprisingly broad chest. Seriously. Is there magic in that tequila?
“Those are some very astute observations.”
I shrug. Not because I disagree but because there’s more to it than that. Much more to it. I’m just not willing to admit it to anyone yet. Not even to myself.
Frank sits silently while I get lost in my thoughts. I don’t want to be attracted to a man like Carlos. That’s just setting myself up for the inevitable pain of rejection. It’s not a new thing for someone like me because it always follows the same pattern.
Boy accidentally meets girl he’s never noticed before.
Boy is shocked to discover he likes girl more than he expected.
Boy and girl spend time together.
Girl gets her hopes up that boy might be different than the others.
Boy suddenly realizes girl likes him in a romantic way and tells girl, “I like you like a friend but not that way.”
Boy starts dating skinny/pretty girl who he falls madly in love with.
Girl gets invitation to boy’s wedding after he completely drops her friendship because he’s busy with the skinny/pretty girl.
I have no interest in going through that again. It was bad enough when it happened in college. And a few years post college. And a shorter version in my early 30s. And before all that, a variation in high school that didn’t end in a wedding invitation, but did end in my going to prom by myself. In hindsight, I was a way better date than he would have been anyway. Especially after he had too many shots in the limo on the way to the dance, only to be falling down drunk by the time they got to the hotel ballroom where he barfed all over his date’s sparkly shoes.
He should have stuck to that top-shelf tequila instead of on-sale Boone’s Farm.
“Somehow, I think there’s more to your thoughts than you’re admitting,” Frank says, reminding me he’s sitting there. Watching me. I hope I wasn’t making some weird facial expression as I ran like a track star down memory lane. There’s no strolling when that rabbit hole of past rejection begins.
“I’m just… processing.” It’s the truth, but only as much as I can give right now. I need to get myself together and compartmentalize my emotions. Put them in nice, neat little boxes that I can lock and store away until I need them. Which will be never.
As I wrap my brain around it all and come up with an emotional game plan, Carlos strolls up to the other side of the bar. He looks… good. Even in an unremarkable sleeveless t-shirt and black gym shorts, he just stands out as a mecca of male beauty.
This is my chance at rectification. My chance to stop my preconceived notions in their tracks and give Carlos a chance to prove there’s more to him than meets the eye.
Decision made, I place a smile on my face in greeting just as Carlos looks up at me—
And looks away.
No smile.
No reaction.
Not even recognition that he’s ever spoken to me before.
It turns out, my pre-conceived notions were, in fact, correct.
I am invisible to Carlos unless there is no one else around.
Now, I just need to prepare myself for his pending engagement which is sure to come soon. If history repeats itself, that’ll be in about six months.
Swiveling on my stool, I brace myself to climb down. I don’t have any desire to sit here, waiting for Carlos to suddenly realize we’ve had a conversation. Before I can make the eighteen-inch jump, a hand gently rests on my forearm.
Frank.
“You need to know Carlos doesn’t come here on Sundays either.”
Looking in Frank’s eyes, all I see is compassion and concern. Two thin
gs I’m not used to getting from a man. Not even my own father who isn’t emotionally distant, per se, but doesn’t understand “lady emotions”. His words, not mine.
Twisting my lips into a weird half-smile, I nod once and pat Frank’s hand. I appreciate his gesture, but the unsettled energy in my body is back. It’s different this time, though. It’s not a hum as much as a buzz of disappointment and anger.
If my workout mirrors how I’m feeling right now, I might end up having to take an easy day tomorrow after all.
Chapter Fourteen
CARLOS
Sitting down on the row machine, I adjust the settings for my height, my strength level, my workout type. Once everything is set, I pull.
And pull.
And pull.
But even racing against myself and my personal best doesn’t seem to calm down my mind, or my body for that matter.
Normally, working out helps my brain compartmentalize itself. The stressors of work are pushed aside as I feel the burn of my muscles. So, it would make sense that the stressors of women would also be locked away, right?
In theory. But I’ve never really had any stress related to dating. Sure, there was the failure that was my weird crush on Olivia from the office. But it was short-lived and despite what other people in the office thought, didn’t faze me as much as they assumed. I could have corrected them on that, but we were in the middle of rapidly hiring a bunch of people and moving half our offices to the Fairmont building. I had better things to do than tell a bunch of co-workers my interest lied strictly in the physical.
However, it was part of the catalyst to me bettering myself in a physical sense and that has only opened up more options, so I can’t really complain about it.
Unfortunately, though, my brain can’t seem to sort out this issue with Rian. And by issue, I mean, that she keeps ending up in the forefront of my thoughts. It’s been that way since dinner a couple weeks ago and it’s irritating me. Ever since that night, she keeps popping up in my thoughts when reading, watching TV, eating, suddenly I find myself wondering what her opinion would be about it.
I’m starting to think there was more in that meal than baked chicken and steamed broccoli. I have no other explanation to why she intrigues me so much. But she does. The entire time we sat around that table at Jose Jose I had two thoughts:
One… I need a copy of Rian’s resume. I never know when I’ll need to fill a position quickly. The more Rian talked about her job, the more of a match she seemed to be. I need someone who knows the ins and outs of what Cipher Security Systems can offer but can also anticipate a client’s priorities before they even get that far. Rian is personable and quick-witted. And now that Janie is leaving, turns out I was right to have this thought process. Assuming Rian can pass the extensive background checks, I have no doubt Janie could have her up and running in a matter of weeks.
Second, and this is the big one… Rian intrigues me on a personal level. I don’t know what to do with that. She’s smart and funny. She’s a strange mix of saying exactly what she thinks and being reserved in her opinions. Like she has a strong personality but isn’t completely confident in her own voice. She’s not a surface-level person and strikes me as the kind of woman who won’t settle for anything less than deep when it comes to her relationships.
All of that has been rolling around in my head for over a week, which is how I ended up here on a Sunday, trying to exhaust my muscles enough for my brain to finally shut off.
That’s also how I accidentally ended up looking right through her at the smoothie bar. It wasn’t intentional. I just didn’t expect her to be there and suddenly, I moved into my default mode—look, but don’t really see anyone. I immediately recognized my mistake, but what could I do? Draw attention to myself and her and make a scene?
She hurried away and I almost went after her, but then I saw Frank. The smirk on his face stopped me from making a move. It’s as if he could read me, read my attraction to her. But he’s wrong. I couldn’t be attracted to her. She’s not my type. Not physically. Not emotionally. Not mentally. None of it.
So why do I feel so guilty?
Maybe because after she left, Frank approached me, shoved a finger in my face and growled, “You don’t deserve a woman like Rian.”
I was a little taken aback at the comment but tried to brush it off. It didn’t work. Probably because he’s right. A better man would have chased after her and apologized.
Grunting, I pull through my last ten seconds before relishing the sweet relief I feel as I place the “oar” back on the machine. I’m covered in sweat and breathing heavily, which feels good. My mind, however, is still a swirling mess of conflicting emotions and ideas.
I look around, trying to decide where my next attempt at emotional numbness should come from. Rowing is technically cardio, but I think I maxed out my upper body muscles today with the heavy weight I purposely added to the oars. Maybe I should jump on the treadmill and run a mile or two. Or maybe not. It’s looking awfully steamy on that side of the gym, like someone left the wet sauna door open again. I hate trying to run in humidity, so I at least need to wait for it to clear out.
Stepping off my machine, I make quick work of wiping it down with sanitizing wipes and take a swig of my water. Hands on my hips, the steam seems to get worse. Something’s not right.
I don’t even have time to investigate before a shrieking sound fills the gym and lights begin flashing. Other faces look as confused as I feel. Is this for real? Is there really a fire in the gym?
Suddenly, one of the people at the front desk comes racing to the back. “Everyone out! Do not go back to the locker room for your stuff. We need to get out now!”
Panic begins to take over the room and people swarm to the exits. Most of us head to the back, but I have a sudden thought and take off toward the front of the building, past the smoothie bar where Tabitha is grabbing her purse, past the front desk where someone is already on the phone with I presume the fire department, and through the double doors of the on-site daycare.
“Dinah!” I call out to the woman in charge. I don’t see her often because I have no need to come in this part, but when you’ve been an active member as long as I have, you tend to know everyone. “Dinah, do you need help?”
“Grab those bottles off the counter!” she yells back, pushing a crib that has at least three babies in it through the emergency exit.
Following her instructions, I grab as many of the cups and bottles as I can carry and follow her out the exit door. Part of me wishes I had my phone to take a picture. I’m not terribly sentimental, but even I have to admit watching the daycare kids walk out is pretty cute. One of the providers, an older woman with bright red hair has one toddler holding each of her hands, with a third holding his friend’s hand. Another provider is carrying a baby and holding the hand of yet another toddler. And Dinah is towing the line with the crib of babies. In a weird way, it resembles a line of ducklings all following the mama duck.
I follow along as they calmly and gently guide the kids to the opposite side of the parking lot. It all runs smoothly until the fire truck pulls up with lights and sirens. The babies start wailing while the toddlers get all excited. I prepare myself to throw the liquid gold into the crib should it become necessary to take off after a rogue toddler determined to get a ride on said truck.
Fortunately, they all seem to have forgotten that they have the ability to let go of each other.
Situating everyone on the curb in an orderly fashion, the red-headed provider takes the cups off my hands and passes them out. Now the excitement really begins for the kids. It’s like they have a front seat to dinner and a show! Or maybe I’m just having my post-workout sugar crash and really wishing I had my wallet so I could go grab a bite.
“Well, that was some exciting stuff, huh?” Dinah has a huge smile on her face, despite just helping half a dozen small people run out of a burning building. Or a possibly burning building. The fire department hasn’t had
a lot of time to find the source of the problem yet.
“You guys are quick, Dinah. I hadn’t even gotten to your room before you guys were gone.”
She laughs heartily. “That’s why they pay me the big bucks. I’m not taking any chances when that fire alarm goes off.”
We watch as more people filter out of the front doors, the only people heading inside are dressed in heavy coats and fireproof hats. I find myself looking around for people I know, making sure everyone is okay.
Tabitha has her purse slung over her shoulder and is letting someone borrow her phone. Frank is standing in a group of people, no doubt regaling stories of when he was a first responder or something. The lady who was on the elliptical is looking around frantically for something. Very quickly, I realize what she’s looking for.
I begin waving my hands and yell, “Hey!” When I know she’s seen me, I start pointing to the row of children. Relief crosses her face and she runs toward us. As she makes it to our side, Dinah hands her one of the babies, making her cry.
“I’m so glad you guys are okay.” Her voice sounds muffled against her child’s head. “I knew you had gotten everyone out but there was still that moment of panic, ya know?”
Dinah rubs the mother’s back and talks quietly to her until more parents come to collect their children as they find us. I keep looking through the crowd making mental notes of all the people I saw when I got here, and who I see now.
It suddenly hits me that there’s one person I haven’t seen yet.
Rian.
Chapter Fifteen
RIAN
Standing under the spray of the hot water, I notice that for the first time, my muscles feel really good. Relaxed in a way they haven’t felt before. And my lungs feel… I don’t know even how to describe it. It’s like they’ve been stretched in all the right ways. Is this what people mean when they talk about feeling the post-workout high? My entire body feels both rejuvenated and relaxed at the same time, and my thoughts are more centered.
