by Lynn Donovan
He escorted her through etched glass doors that depicted a collage of weights, boxing gloves, barbells, and a slender model in a peaceful yoga stance. Inside and to the right was a solid door that only opened with an access card that Roger swiped. An elegant staircase began just inside the doors that looked like onyx, marble, and gold. Roger led her upstairs to an open common room. This looked like a luxurious hotel lobby with seating and TVs, reading lamps beside comfortable, relaxing chairs, and a long polished counter with mirrors and bottles like a private bar, except instead of alcohol, there were protein mixes, flavored waters, energy drinks, and other imported bottles for the sophisticated palate. A barista stood at the ready to mix and serve.
The ceiling was mostly clear glass and the star-kissed, aurora-painted sky was visible. She craned her neck to watch the streaks of many colors. How amazing this was, and what an excellent idea to not hide it from the inhabitants with solid wood, sheetrock, and a normal roof. From the common area were oversized double doors, and what looked like polished oak with fancy knobs in the center of the doors. Roger opened the set on the left and stood back. “This will be your apartment.”
She stared at him as she entered. Why did he not come in? Turning her head, she took in a luxuriously furnished apartment. The living room was larger than her one-bedroom apartment back in New York. Upon investigation it was a one bedroom, too, but holy cow, it was huge! There were curtains drawn back from ceiling to floor window panes. How odd that there was no cold air emanating from the glass. It must be super insulated multi-layered glass.
But the view! It was breathtaking. Even though she could only see through the encroaching haze of evening which was lit by the ground lights. The grounds were like an English garden. An English garden that was transitioning to autumn with clusters of orange and yellow mums, pink asters, marigolds, green leaves and red-berried holly bushes, ivy trellises, evergreen trees, and other things she couldn’t name.
The bathroom was a spa, with a soaker, jetted tub, a walk in shower that six people could stand in easily, with six water spouts that sprayed at three different levels: head, shoulders, and hips; a cedar lined steam room, and a marble vanity with mirrors and vanity lights to die for. There was a padded stool to sit on while putting her makeup on and doing her hair. A walk-in closet with built-in dressers and shoe shelves. A padded bench down the middle. Several items already hung on wooden hangers. She pulled them apart to find a uniform of sorts that looked like heavy denim scrubs with an embroidered logo: “Holliday Island Resorts,” a barbell with huge weights on each end and “Comet Island Health and Fitness Resort.”
The bed had four posts. Anya swung around the post and fell through the iridescent sheer material that was draped around the top frame and hung down each post. She flopped onto the soft bed and sighed. No expense was spared on the furnishings or the wall decor. There were paintings that looked like they were the original paintings, not prints. Anya swallowed. There were stylish homey arrangements on the walls like she’d seen on HGTV when a team came into a person’s home to organize their clutter and decorated their rooms into a pleasingly lovely space. Of course, Gordon Holliday or Billy C. Holliday, for that matter, would use an interior decorator to set up every functioning space, be it living quarters or gymnasium.
She sat on the couch. It was very comfortable, just like the bed. The fireplace drew her eyes to its sleek contrasting, modern, black marble design. It had a firebox bed of stones from which the flames rose at the touch of a button on the remote that lay on the coffee table at her knees. Very efficient and environmentally conscious, yet it put off a warm heat that she could feel almost immediately. Above the fireplace was a wide screen TV that worked from the same remote.
Roger tapped on the door. He stood at the threshold but didn’t enter. “Ah, I see you found the remote. There’s also a voice activated system that you can set up once you get moved in.”
“Like Alexa or Siri?”
Roger smiled. “Yes, but you can name it whatever you like.” He swallowed. “As of right now, its name is Roger.” A blush filled his cheeks.
“Seriously?”
“Oh, quite. I’ll demonstrate.” He cleared his throat. “Roger, turn on the living room light to 30%.”
The lights came on in a dimmed illumination. “Roger, close the west curtains.” The curtains slid closed. “Roger, put the TV on the resort channel.” The TV came to life with a video tour of the Comet Island Health and Fitness Resort. The overlaying voice sounded like Philip Heath, “The Gift.” She had watched him win the title Mr. Olympia seven times. Then Billy walked in on the video and thanked The Gift for showing folks around his fitness resort like they were best friends. And why not? Don’t famous people hang out with filthy rich ones? Especially those who own a string of fitness studios across the nation?
Anya reached down and turned the TV off with the remote. “Well. This is really impressive, but I’m ready to go.”
“Do you want to see the fitness studio and the café?”
“Café?” She stared at Roger. “Oh, that’s right. Billy C. Holliday is famous for his nutrition and fitness food line. Charlie told me he had a café at every facility.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Which celebrity chef works in the resort’s kitchen?”
“Eddie Huang is the reoccurring chef here. He has trained our chefs in his culinary ways and dictates our menus. I believe he’s here now, if you’d like to meet him.”
“Sure.” She tossed her hands up and let them flop down by her sides. “Why not?”

Roger smirked a smile and led her down to the café, through the back doors where staff only were allowed to enter.
Chef Huang was barking orders, but when he spotted Roger and Anya, he clasped his hands together and smiled. “Welcome!” He seemed so sincere, she believed he was truly happy to see them. “Is this our new gal from New York? I’m so happy to meet you. Soon as you settle in, I have some New York style treats just for you. You’re gonna feel like you are home, I promise!”
“Well.” Anya stammered. He was shorter than she imagined when she had seen him on TV. “I’m just looking around right now, I haven’t made any decisions.”
His jovial expression dropped into a frown like an egg flopped into a swirling broth. “Oh. I see.” He glanced at Roger. “Well, how about this?” He hurried to a pantry and pulled out a package, placing it in a stainless steel machine, then pressed a button and steam oozed from under the lid. He pulled the package out with tongs and gingerly opened the wrapping, then brushed it with butter and sprinkled it with large salt crystals. “Here.” He wrapped the New York style pretzel in a napkin. “A little taste of home.”
She stared at the golden, salty pretzel. “Wow. That smells good.”
“Taste it.”
She did. “Hmmm. It tastes great. Thank you.” She spoke around the bite.
“I hope that helps sway your decision.” He winked at her and returned to his staff, who had continued to work while he spoke to the visitors. He started barking orders and the staff moved even faster than before. Anya chuckled and took another bite of her pretzel. She had to admit, the food was going to be really good here.
She turned to Roger. “Okay, what else?”
He jerked a nod and took her through the different areas of the health and fitness center. The machines were state-of-the-art, as expected, from weights to boxing, then there were free weights and an Olympic size pool, several hot tubs with different temperatures and aroma oils added, depending on what the body needed relief from. There were yoga, aerobics, bicycling, stair steppers, treadmills, and other rooms each dedicated to one type of machine, with huge TVs and videos to simulate an actual trip through various terrains.
The public sound system was invisible and clear as a bell, plus, each station had an audio plug for individualized ear-bud listening. She had to admit here, too, there was nothing that had not been thought of or purchased for workouts, endurance, cardio, and stre
ngthening. She was impressed.
Once Roger completed the walk-through tour, he turned to her. “Would you like to have supper before you go, or… would you like to spend the night and return in the morning?”
She looked around. This place was a physical therapist’s dream, but she really wanted to go home and talk to Emily and Charlie, her mom, the hotdog vender on the corner, anybody who would listen. She needed to talk this through with people she trusted to give her an objective perspective on this bedazzled offer. Right now, she was overwhelmed, and her mind was fuzzy. She glanced at her phone. It was getting late. Maybe a quick supper wouldn’t hurt anything before she left. “Supper would be nice. But then I really want to go home.”
Roger nodded. “As you wish.”
He walked her to the dining area of the café and seated her at a two-top table overlooking a lighted meadow. A young, athletic waiter rushed to her table. His uniform was a black t-shirt and pressed pants. The spa logo at the left breast pocket looked just like the logo on the scrubs hanging in her closet… the closet upstairs. He looked as though he could be a model for the island. His arms bulged with well-defined muscles and his chest and abdomen had that sculpted look under his t-shirt. His olive skin and almond shaped eyes reminded her of the Filipinos from New York. He handed her a menu and filled her water glass. “Is there anything else I can bring you right now?”
“No, thank you.” She smiled at him, then turned to Roger to ask if he was going to eat with her, but he was gone. She shrugged and opened the menu. The selections were many, available in gluten free, low carb, energizing carb, low to no sugar, low to no salt, and so on. They had every dietary option available upon request and the dishes sounded so delicious yet nutritious. She perused the choices, wondering what the waiter would do if she asked for a good old-fashioned cheeseburger and fries. Chuckling to herself, she continued to look over the items. No Coke products. That made sense, but still, she’d sure like a Coke right now.
A throat cleared. She lowered the menu. “Oh. Billy! I didn’t realize you would be joining me.”
He flopped into the chair across from her. He was obviously wearing his exoskeleton. But his eyes looked tired and his skin was pale. She recognized fatigue when she saw it. He didn’t smile. “First of all, I prefer to be called William. Billy C. is more of a pen name for my fitness studios, second, I heard you had asked to see the living quarters. Shall I assume you have taken my dad’s offer?”
“No. That assumption would be premature. I haven’t accepted Gordon’s offer.”
He tossed his head back, thoughtful. “Oh, I see. And yet, you are here, looking at all there is to experience on the Comet island.”
“Well, an informed decision would include knowing what this place looks like and where I’ll be living while I’m here.”
“I suppose that’s true. Our clients get a brochure and a YouTube video tour before they travel all this way, why not a potential employee?”
“Yes.” She glared at him. Why was he being nice? On the yacht he was a jerk. “So, William, I have to admit this is an amazing place. There’s nothing overlooked or forgotten. It’s a physical therapist’s dream facility. Have you considered offering a special deal to those who are rehabilitating from injuries similar to yours? The atmosphere of the spa alone would be a benefit to a patient dealing with their losses.”
“No. I hadn’t thought about that.” Anger reddened his face. “I was more focused on keeping the clients I have. I need to present myself as an accomplished body builder, not a broken man.”
She pursed her lips. “Well, to be honest with you. I believe you are more of an inspiration to those who are thinking their injuries will make their lives awful. They can see that with the proper rehabilitation and dedication to continued strengthening, they can resume an active life. Maybe not what they had before, but certainly—”
“Yeah, yeah, I haven’t considered making my injuries the focus of my fitness fame.”
She stared at him. Although he had the exoskeleton to hide his limitations, he was still a wounded man dealing with his changed life. Just like all her patients. “You look tired.”
He shrugged.
“How long do you stay in that thing?”
Again he shrugged. “Eight or so hours.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s a long time. Is there no way you can leave the public areas and go relax in your living quarters? I’d recommend no more than two hours in that thing and that’s only after you have built yourself up to a point where your body can tolerate it. I’m sure it’s an exhausting workout just to be up and about in it.”
“Two hours?” He frowned. “I’m used to working out four to six hours a day. I can handle simply hanging out in a robotic suit.”
“I’m telling you, what you’re doing is causing more harm than good to your injuries.” Anger roiled in her gut. If this was what it was going to be like to serve as his dedicated physical therapist, she really doubted she wanted the job.
“Well.” He lowered his voice. “I suppose that’s why Dad wants to hire you. He doesn’t think I’m doing right either.” Sadness filled his eyes.
Anya considered this new attitude. Perhaps there was hope for him, yet. Most patients, in fact, all her patients had to be convinced they could live a normal, albeit modified, life. This one had to be convinced he was doing too much and needed to rein himself in a little. Hmmm. It could be interesting to work with a client who had such a positive attitude. So long as she could get him to listen to her and not cause himself more injuries. She had ’til Christmas to set him straight.
The waiter approached their table. “What are you having this evening, Miss Stepanov.”
Her eyes shot up to him. How’d he know her name? She glanced at William. His handsome eyes blinked slowly. He needed to get some rest. “I’ll have the turkey club on sourdough bread and carrot chips. But I want them to go, please.”
William’s eyes widened. “You’re not staying?”
“No. I need to get back to New York, and you need to get out of that thing and get some rest.”
He stared at her, glanced at the waiter. “I’ll have organic lobster bisque and crackers, but have it delivered to my quarters.” He let the machine wrapped around his torso and legs force him to stand and so did she.
“May I walk you to where Roger will be waiting for you?” William waited for her answer.
“What about my sandwich?”
William smiled. “They’ll bring it there.” He glanced at the waiter, who nodded.
“Yes sir. I’ll make sure both meals are delivered as requested.”
“Thank you.” William turned to Anya with an uplifted palm, gesturing after you. She walked ahead of him, although she really wanted to observe him walking in the suit. Perhaps the lack of being able to examine the effects of his injuries and especially that suit would be an incentive for her to accept the job. Just to satisfy her curiosity? That would be a dumb reason to move so far away for three months.
By the time they reached the helicopter landing area, the waiter handed her a to-go sack and a logoed travel cup with water. The landing area was lit up like daylight. Just beyond the illumination, it was obvious there was no natural lighting. That was gonna take some getting used to.
“Thank you.” Anya took the food and noticed Roger coming out of a small building.
“I’ll have her warmed up in a jiffy.” He trotted to the copter.
She turned to William. “Thank you for walking me out here. It wasn’t necessary, but I always appreciate a gentleman’s gesture of kindness. Now, will you do me a favor, and—”
“I’m heading there now. I promise. I agree.” He sighed. “I am tired and need to rest. I suppose I’ll see you again soon?” He took her hand and kissed her knuckle.
She stared at his gallant gesture.
“Welcome to Comet Island Health and Fitness Resort, Anya. I look forward to working with you.”
Butterflies took flight in her tum
my.
What an intriguing guy.
Chapter Four
Anya stared at the green numbers on the stark white business card. Five days had passed since her surreal visit to the Alaskan resort. She had to call this number and tell whoever answered that she was ready to return and give her answer. But what was her answer?
Everybody she asked thought it was a moot decision. Emily, Charlie, Mom, even the hotdog vendor said she should take the job. What was three months of her life helping one narcissistic patient compared to the end result of being debt free and even ahead financially? Gordon said if William met his rehabilitation goals she would receive a bonus, a clinic of her own.
William Holliday’s smile haunted her dreams, but the personality behind that smile irritated her. He befuddled her mind with a bi-polar personality. That wasn’t fair. She didn’t really think he was bi-polar. It was just that he was nice one minute and a royal jerk the next. Every patient she worked with traversed the different stages of grief for their former uninjured bodies, she was used to riding that rollercoaster with them. Why did she expect anything different from this one?
Perhaps it was the isolation and distance that gave her pause. One patient for three long months. Would she be back home for Christmas? But the reward was huge. Financial freedom, basically. Was it worth the sacrifice of being away from everybody she loved, even if it meant missing Christmas with them?
She’d even stared at a map of the United States and dreamed of opening a clinic of her own somewhere that she’d always wanted to live. Colorado or Oregon, she hadn’t decided. Both were beautiful places to live. And like Charlie pointed out, after being affiliated with Billy C. Holliday and his Island Resort, she wouldn’t have to advertise. People would seek her out no matter where she lived.
Did she want that kind of fame?
Did she want any of this?
She liked her simple life in Westfield. She loved the state of New York: with four separate seasons, amazing fall leaves, fresh apples, beautiful countrysides, wineries, finger lakes, best chicken wings in the country, the dairy farms and cattle everywhere, corn, oats, and wheat fields, Amish markets, the rolling hills… sunlight! What would it be like to live in nearly continuous darkness for half the year? How did people live in Alaska and not go crazy? Maybe they didn’t? That’s why Gordon Holliday spent all his time on a yacht, and William spent all his in a gym. They were certifiably insane. Did she want to ride their crazy train for a quarter of a year?