Weight Expectations: Cipher Office Book #1

by M. E. Carter

  It is the oddest feeling. I think… I think I could get used to feeling like this a few times a week. I might even be able to start pushing myself more. Of course, I’ll never tell Abel that. He would be so disappointed if he had no one to verbally spar with.

  Besides, I don’t have that many endorphins running through me. Let’s not get crazy.

  Turning around, I lift my head up to get my hair wet and shampooed. The room is foggier than normal, but I suppose I have the water up hotter than normal. And someone is in the stall next to me. I guess we all had some emotional weight to work off today.

  I can’t believe I suddenly see the appeal of coming here. It’s not the actual exercise people like. It’s what comes after. It’s a sense of calm I don’t know I’ve ever had before.

  Rinsing my hair, I squeeze some conditioner into my hand and work it through my locks. Oddly, I feel like I should get a facial or pedicure, too. It’s kind of wigging me out that I have this sudden desire to put more effort into my self-care. I may need to eat some French fries to balance myself out.

  The room is getting foggier, which is so odd. How much hot water are we using? And why is it thicker toward the ceiling?

  Wait.

  Something’s not right.

  “Ummm…..” I say just as the woman in the stall next to me asks, “Is that steam? Or is it smoke?”

  I don’t get a chance to answer before the high-pitched screech of the fire alarms begin blaring.

  Oh, shit.

  “What do we do?” I ask no one in particular, although likely my shower mate is the only one listening. “Do we have time to finish up?”

  “I don’t know.” I can hear the panic in her voice, just like I heard it in mind. “But we need to hurry.”

  I begin rinsing frantically, not even sure what part of me I’m washing in the rising panic I feel. A smart person would just jump out of the shower. But what if I do that and it turns out this is a false alarm? Then I’ll be running around naked and will end up reshowering. Plus, what if someone steals my stuff while it’s unattended? Then I’ll be naked while going home.

  And why does this happen to me while I’m in the shower here?!?! I have half a mind to go flash my boobs in the gym, so people won’t interrupt my showers because obviously this is a conspiracy to see me naked! Wait… maybe I shouldn’t think like that. If this is a real emergency, I’m likely to actually flash my boobs, and I wasn’t really serious about that being an option.

  Oh, boy.

  This is the mishmash of thoughts running through my brain in times of emergency. I should never work in emergency services. I obviously don’t think clearly enough in times of stress.

  I lean back to rinse my hair out again, but before it does any good someone runs in yelling.

  “Everyone out now!!! Don’t finish up! Just grab your towels and run!”

  I guess there’s my answer. Doing as I’m told, I shut off the water, reach my hand out for a towel, and fling the curtain open.

  As I wrap it around me, I slip on my shower shoes and follow everyone else.

  Gosh darnit! I think as I keep struggling with my towel. Of course, they don’t have giant fluffy towels that can cover someone up totally. Oh, no. This thing is practically the size of a washcloth and I’m … not. If I wasn’t watching the smoke above us turning black, I might be more worried about it. But clearly, I am running for my life. As in, really and truly running without a sports bra on so I don’t die in a fire.

  Turning the corner to get out of the room, I catch a glimpse as a few ceiling tiles cave in and someone screams. I don’t think it’s me, but I can’t be sure in the chaos I’m feeling.

  Holy. Shit. This is really happening. The gym is really on fire while I’m in it.

  This, THIS is why no one should work out. See how hazardous it is to my health?

  Okay, focus, Rian. Just follow everyone to the exit. The only flames were back there. We have time to get outside. Calm down.

  It really only takes a matter of seconds for us to get out the front door and to the parking lot, even if it feels like much longer. Or maybe it just feels surreal. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would be involved in a building fire. And certainly not at the gym. And certainly not while I’m in the shower.

  And it hits me in the middle of all the chaos and confusion…

  I’m standing in the parking lot with nothing but practically a hand towel wrapped around me. No one is really paying attention, which is good news. And my shower mate is also naked as a jaybird, but of course she’s skinny and perky. Her hair is up in a messy bun and she has that freshly showered glow.

  I still have conditioner in my hair.

  Yes, I’m alive and don’t have a mark on me. For that, I’m grateful. But I’m also suddenly hyper-aware that not only do I look like a drowned rat, my towel won’t close all the way, so I’m flashing everyone a glimpse of my hip, my thigh, my muffin top. There is probably some side boob on display, too. So yeah, I’m feeling both humiliated and grateful to be alive, as I watch flames…

  Wait… are those real flames shooting out of the top of the building?

  My brain is spinning with the reality of what’s happening and honestly, it can’t quite keep up. It feels like I’m stuck in a movie or bad sitcom. Actually, a bad comedic drama is probably the most accurate, and I’m stuck as the side character everyone is laughing “with” because of the unfortunate set of circumstances.

  Side note: I’m not laughing.

  But I am trying to figure what happened without drawing too much attention to myself. That means eavesdropping on all the chatter around me. So far, no one really knows for sure, but the speculation is it must have been an electrical fire and started in the wall.

  I’m no fireman, but it makes sense considering how long we watched the smoke roll in before the alarms went off.

  Adjusting my towel again, I situate myself a little more sideways to hide the exposed parts of me. If we can’t get back in the building for a while, I’m not sure what I’m going to do. Surely the emergency crews have supplies for a situation like this, don’t they? I can’t be the only naked person who has ever run for her life. In order to find out, however, I would have to push through this crowd of people and walk to the other side of the parking lot. Not a stroll I’m willing to make at this point. I’d rather stand here until the crowd clears out and I’m alone.

  Looking up, I see Carlos walking toward me. Oh, no. Of all the people to finally notice me, it has to be him? I look down, not wanting to see when the judgement crosses his face. Because I’m sure he doesn’t have nice things to say about this situation. I’m not perky and cute and glowy. I’m obese and my hair is still full of conditioner. Flashbacks of the high school locker room after PE bombard me and it takes everything in me not to allow tears to well up in my eyes.

  In a few quick steps, Carlos is standing in front of me. Instead of saying something mean, though, he shocks the shit out of me when he pulls his shirt off and pulls it over top of my head.

  I squeak, not expecting that at all. “What are you doing?”

  “Covering you up.” Cover me up, he did. Even with as big as I am, he’s so tall and broad that his shirt comes almost down to my knees. I leave the towel wrapped around me so there is a double layer of fabric which makes me feel so much less exposed. Oddly though, I’m also a bit offended now.

  A humorless laugh makes it way out of me. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want people to see the fat girl in all her glory either.”

  He looks taken aback. “That’s not why I gave you my shirt.”

  “Are you sure? That girl over there is also in a towel, but I don’t see you offering a shirt to her.” I point over to my shower mate whose towel is neatly tucked in leaving her hands free to talk animatedly about our escape from death and hug her friends. I wonder what it’s like to feel that comfortable in your own skin.

  “I only had one,” Carlos defends.

  “So?” That’s it. That’s the
only comeback I’ve got. So now I’m naked and awkward. Awesome.

  A strange look crosses Carlos’s face. Like he’s just putting together that he impulsively dressed me and didn’t realize it until now. Like the entire exchange happened on autopilot. His face begins to turn a slight crimson shade. “Do you want me to take it back? I didn’t mean… I wasn’t…” He reaches for the hem of the shirt, but I pull away.

  “No!” I blurt out, slightly distracted and unable to look away from the very nice six pack of abs that are covered by a sheen of sweat and the pecs that have a light dusting of hair over them. Whoever said forty is over the hill has never seen Carlos Davies shirtless and glistening in the sun. His strong thighs are flexed as he stands with his hands on his tone hips…

  Focus, Rian! This is not the time to be drooling over Carlos’s body. There is time for that after you are not standing naked in public.

  Oh, yeah. I’m naked in public.

  Aaaaand my reprieve from embarrassment is over. Although I must admit I feel better knowing I’m not mooning the people behind me. Suddenly, I feel ashamed of the way I’m reacting to Carlos’s kindness. “I’m sorry,” I blurt out while I have the nerve. “I didn’t mean to react that way. I’m just a little shaken up from running for my life, I guess.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think any of us saw that coming. You’re okay though, right, Rian?” His face goes back to its normal shade and the look on his face is so sincere, I’m not sure what to think.

  “I didn’t know you knew my name.”

  He looks at me quizzically. “Of course, I know your name. I had a lot of fun at dinner that night.”

  Okay, now I’m really confused. “You did?”

  “Yeah. You’re really funny.”

  I notice he doesn’t say beautiful, but I suppose there are worse things than being recognized for your humor by the opposite sex. Plus, this whole drowned rat thing isn’t my best look.

  “You said you work in sales, right?”

  Weird topic of conversation to have when I’m naked outside a burning building, but I suppose it’s not the strangest part of my day. And it’s a welcome distraction from the last thirty minutes of my life, so I’m more than happy to go with it. “Yeah. I’m called a customer care rep officially, but basically my day is spent selling the various packages.”

  “So potential clients call in and you give them the rundown, figure out what their needs are, and sell them the right option.”

  “You make it sound pretty basic, but yeah. That’s pretty much it in a nutshell.”

  “Do you like where you work?”

  I shrug. “It’s okay. I’ve been there long enough that I get all the perks. It sucks that I’ve hit the salary cap for my position, but I’m sure a supervisor job will open up. Again. Eventually.” And I’ll probably be passed up for the job by some other person who has a penis since upper management seems to think the ability for one head to function is reliant on the addition of the second one.

  “You don’t sound so sure.”

  Another shrug. “I’ve been passed up a couple of times with no reasonable explanation, except nepotism and maybe a hint of sexism in there.”

  “That bad?”

  “Just disappointing. But I don’t let it get me down. It is what it is.” That’s what I tell myself anyway. Deep down, though, I’m probably settling. But really, what do I have to complain about? I work for a solid company and get a steady paycheck that’s ample enough to provide for me in one of the most expensive cities in the country. That’s more than most people can say. “Anyway, why the sudden interest in my job? Just shooting the shit since all our stuff is inside and we have nowhere to go?”

  “Actually, I have a sales position open at my company I thought you might be interested in.”

  I open my mouth to respond, but close it when nothing comes out. In the last thirty seconds, the man who looked right past me an hour ago at the smoothie bar, is now helping me out and giving me a job opportunity while said smoothie bar is burning to the ground.

  No, really. Am I being Punk’d? There’s no other reasonable explanation for what’s happening today.

  “Umm…” I croak out. “Okay. I mean, the timing is really weird with this—” I gesture to the building, “—and all, but I guess we don’t have anything else to do. What kind of job are we talking?”

  He smiles softly but immediately his demeanor changes into a more business professional mode. I’m impressed. It’s hard to be professional when you’re shirtless and sweaty and standing in front of a woman who is dressed only in your shirt and a towel...

  I wonder what would happen if this towel just accidentally fell off…

  NO! Stop it, Rian. That sounds like the premise of my mother’s romance novels. Who knew this stuff happened in real life?

  “It’s an account manager position. Our current account manager is stepping down to stay home with her new baby that’s going to be born, hopefully sooner rather than later.” He shakes his head and runs his hand down his face at that last statement. I suspect there’s more to that story, but I don’t ask. “Anyway, I’m needing to replace her and after talking to you at dinner, I looked you up a bit. You have an extensive background in account management.”

  My eyes widen a bit at his compliment. He really Googled me? “I… um… I guess.” Feeling flustered, I stumble over my words. He doesn’t seem to notice.

  “Anyway, I’m trying to get this position filled soon so—”

  “Back up! We need everyone to back up!” We’re briefly interrupted by a couple of fire and police officials pushing the crowd backward toward the street. More sirens are blaring, and we watch as a third and fourth fire truck pull into the parking lot and more people dressed in fireproof gear hop out.

  That’s not good. That’s not good at all. Especially when we hear what sounds like an explosion, and we watch as part of the roof collapses.

  “Holy shit,” Carlos says, mirroring the sentiments of basically everyone around us. I’ve seen house fires on TV or in the movies. But to see it in person is a whole different thing. I have a much bigger appreciation for what it’s really like. It’s fascinating and yet completely upending a couple hundred people’s lives.

  I realize at that moment, that this situation goes beyond me racing out here in a towel. Or Carlos giving me his shirt. Or all of us waiting to get our keys to go home. People like Abel? He could be out of a job. Same with Tabitha and all the other employees. And I assume everyone got out, but what if someone is still inside and we don’t know?

  Suddenly, I’m feeling hyper-aware of how much more goes on in the world beyond my self-imposed bubble. Because if I’m telling myself the truth, that’s what it really is. Carlos basically just said it… Sandeke Telecom is fine to work for but will never be better than just fine. So why am I settling? Why am I holding back? I don’t want my life to catch on fire and I have nothing to show for it.

  Okay, that was the worst analogy ever but inside, I’m feeling kind of keyed up. Like it’s time to take my life by the horns and go for the best it has to offer.

  I think I must have inhaled too much smoke to be thinking like this. But it doesn’t stop me from turning to Carlos.

  “Where do I send that resume?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  CARLOS

  Dear Members,

  As many of you know, the south location of Weight Expectations suffered a fire on Sunday. The fire inspector has done a complete investigation and determined it was caused by faulty electrical wiring in the wall.

  We’re happy to report there were no injuries despite almost two hundred people being in the building. I credit our amazing staff for following our emergency protocol quickly and efficiently, and I’m proud to work with them.

  Unfortunately, there’s not only good news. Weight Expectations will be closed until further notice as we determine the best course of action for the building and its members.

  However, I’m happy to tell you that as a m
ember of our wonderful gym, our corporate office is giving our south members the option to utilize any of the other facilities in this time of transition…

  Sighing, I hate to admit it, but I’m disappointed. I shouldn’t be. I ran out of that building like everyone else. I watched the roof collapse. And really, the corporate office isn’t required to let us use the other locations. Per our membership, we can’t use them all. We just use the one we pay for. Or at least that’s the plan I pay for since it was the closest facility and really, why would I need to go anywhere else? It had everything I needed.

  It turns out, I tend to be a relatively simple man. If I find a business I like, I visit frequently, and my gym is a place I like. I have friends there. I have a routine there. Rian is there.

  “Knock, knock.” Teresa pokes her head in. “Mr. Davies, your appointment is here.”

  Speaking of Rian. The day after the fire, she emailed me her resume as promised. When I read through it, I became more and more impressed. She has downplayed her abilities significantly. Not only has she won a ton of awards for up sales, she’s managed an impressive number of accounts, has a satisfaction rate of damn near one hundred percent, and included recommendations from bosses and co-workers alike. I need to pick her brain more because telecom is vastly different from securities. But if my gut feeling is right, and it usually is, she’ll pick up the ins and outs quickly. Her raw abilities can’t be taught. She’s the kind of person who can be successful in any industry.

  On a personal level, I hate that she’s been stuck in a low-end position with no growth and no one to mentor her. Although, knowing what I do about the Sandekes, it doesn’t surprise me all that much. But I’m also not going to crap on my own good luck finding her. She’s the kind of person employers dream about hiring.

  Rising from my chair, I take a moment to center myself and make sure I’m in boss mode, not guy-who-is-oddly-attracted-to-the-woman-outside-the-door mode.