by Dixon,Jules
My phone buzzed on the kitchen counter.
Jude: In a long meeting at Triple R. Will talk to you later. Sorry.
I decided to read until Jace arrived. Lying on the couch, I fell asleep quickly from the lack of truly refreshing sleep last night. The doorbell rang, and I jolted upright. Yawning like I hadn’t slept in days, I reached the door and checked the peephole. Jace smiled on the other side.
I opened. “Hello.” My gravelly voice chafed my ears. I cleared my throat.
“Hi. How are you doing, Miss Bradenhurst?”
“I’m tired.”
“Well, I’d imagine. You were pretending to be a Dancing with the Stars contestant last night.” She took a seat in the chair at the end of the sofa.
“Was I? I can’t remember all of it.”
“What do you remember?”
“I remember being weird around Jude.”
Jace threw her head back laughing. “Well, you remember one of the more interesting parts of the night. Presley, I could tell you’re interested in him and that boy is into you, too. Why the attitude?”
“‘Cause in the locker room I overheard Emerson saying she had a date with him. She was there. Mostly, I can’t believe a guy that hot could actually be interested in—”
“You?” Jace scowled at me. “I know Willow tries to cram down your throat how incredible you are, thinking she can convince you to think it yourself, but I’m not going to do that because obviously that method doesn’t work.”
My eyebrows furrowed at her semi-mean but not-entirely-untrue words.
She continued with a small smirk. “Do you have faults? Sure! Prez, we all do. I’m a workaholic, my boobs are two different cup sizes, and I’m a freak when it comes to having clean everything—ears, car, workspace, and home. It’s a certifiable and untreated disease.”
“You are not diseased.”
Jace huffed. “You know what I mean. Presley, we try to minimize the negative things, not faking anything but emphasizing our better side. Our strengths, otherwise known as ‘our best side’, are what attract someone. We do a damn good job of pushing people away by acknowledging the weaknesses that speak so little about us instead of accentuating our strengths that speak volumes.”
“Strengths?” I searched my mind for mine and the fact that I couldn’t come up with one was depressing. Surely I had at least one.
“Yes. So what are you good at, Prez?”
“I don’t know. Art?”
“And?”
Her insistence made my breathing irregular. I didn’t like to discuss me.
“I sell cars better than most of the staff.”
“I’d say you sell them better than all of the staff, considering you’re the top salesperson for April. And you love your friends like family. And you take care of animals with such heart.”
“Okay.” I held up a hand. “So I have some strengths. The bigger problem is I have a lot of baggage for someone to contend with, too.”
“Whatever you think that baggage is, honey, it won’t matter to the right person. He or she will understand and accept everything about you. Maybe you don’t know everything about Jude, but if you see the strengths in him to make you want to know more, then I say you should go for it. If all you can see is weaknesses then you should let him go. The right girl will see his best side.”
“How do I stop seeing my weaknesses?”
“You won’t. Ever. Just be confident in yourself. If he’s the right one, he won’t care about your weaknesses. He’ll love your strengths.”
“I think Willow was saying something similar earlier.”
“Good. Since we’re on the same page and you’ve heard this lecture once before, please take me home.” A yawn the size of Nebraska escaped Jace’s mouth. “I need more sleep, too.”
I drove Jace home. The fact that Jude hadn’t called me back had me concerned. It was after noon and I’d called him at nine this morning. I doubted Triple R had a three-hour meeting. How much personal trainer training is there to do?
I pulled into our drive and a motorcycle was parked on our side. I parked behind the hot black bike. Maybe Kanyon’s horse?
As I exited my car, I heard a greeting.
“Hi, Presley.”
My body responded with a tiny shiver.
I walked around the car. “Hi, Jude.” I stopped when I was facing him at the bottom of the stairs.
His body was covered in form-accentuating denim down low, and smooth leather up top. All I could think was how I’d love to shove my face into his jacket and take a big long whiff.
“Would you like to come in?” My legs finally found a will to move toward where he sat.
“No, thanks. I have to get ready for work at Two Fine. I’m sorry to show up unannounced and I hope you don’t find it too stalker-like that I looked up your address in the Triple R system. I didn’t know if you’d tell me where you lived after last night.”
I tipped my head in consideration. There was a real possibility I wouldn’t have.
“No problem. Jude, I’m very sorry for getting out of control last night.”
He stood from the front stoop and took the two steps down to the driveway. “I understand why you were acting like you were.”
My speech froze in my throat, and my body was trapped in place as we stared at each other. His hypnotizing hazel eyes caught the high afternoon sun’s rays and the gold flecks sparkled.
He continued, dropping his gaze, “And thank you for the apology. The fact is, I am your personal trainer. Not concentrating on my job almost injured you and almost derailed my career at the gym. I don’t want either of those things to happen. Especially the first. I think it’s smart for both of us if we maintain a professional relationship as trainer and client.”
I swallowed. Jumbled thoughts of how I didn’t want him to be only my personal trainer sprinted through my brain. I wanted to tell him that I wanted him. That I wanted him to want me. That I wanted things to be different.
But I just nodded in agreement and stepped around him.
I steadied my voice but kept my back to him. “Okay, I understand. Have a good weekend, Jude. I’ll see you Monday morning. No need to text a reminder. Promise, I’ll be there.”
I opened the front door and sank to the floor while his bike roared away.
It wasn’t the first time a guy presented information that confirmed I wasn’t good enough, pretty enough, thin enough, smart enough … or just enough. Unlike before, this time the hurt was crushing me somewhere deep inside, instead of crushing me from the outside in.
Hours later, when she arrived home from work, that was where Willow found me. She helped me to my bedroom. Without asking me any details, she rubbed my back until I fell asleep. I slept all night and well into the next morning.
Around noon, I dragged myself to the shower and prepared myself with minimal effort to head to the humane society for my volunteer hours. Getting unconditional love from the animals seemed to relieve whatever ailed me, but today the funk was too great. Even the animals sensed the cloud of gloom I brought with me.
Except one. She had her own cloud of gloom.
There was this little white dog that had been in the shelter for weeks. I’d watched plenty of families, couples, and singles stop to take a look at her but they’d shake their heads when she would cower in the back of the kennel. They’d ask the standard questions to the adoption counselor: What’s wrong with her? Why doesn’t she act like a normal dog? We’re nice people, what happened to her that she can’t trust us? As a stray the animal control officer picked up, these were unanswerable questions. Sometimes there wasn’t a reason. That was just how the animal was born. Sometimes there was an answer but knowing didn’t always help either.
I waited until adoption hours were over to clean her enclosure. Even on her best day it took several minutes to coax her from her cage, and she would tremble like Jell-O being shaken on a plate by a two-year-old while I completed the task. I didn’t want any distr
actions or loud noises to spook her.
“Hey, sweetie, time for cleaning.” The white fluff tried to burrow into the cinder block wall. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”
I heard one of the adoption counselors behind me. “She’s a nice dog, just has so many issues. Her behavior and her weight problems are too much for many good homes to deal with. I think she’d be a good dog, eventually. We’re thinking if she doesn’t get adopted in the next ten days…” She sighed. “Well, you know. Have a good week, Presley.”
After that news … really?
I swallowed hard. Just being written-off as problematic or unfixable or unlovable wasn’t fair. Being given ten days to transform your head and your body was a death sentence in itself.
With patience, the little lady finally crept her way toward me, two steps forward, one step back. I let her sniff the back of my hand as she passed by, and she did a butterfly kiss nuzzle before scuttling away. She sat next to the kennel door. Her eyes never met mine and her head hung low. Sadly, we had the same physical posture and wondered if someone in her past had walked over her heart, too. Someone in motorcycle boots and a leather jacket.
Before I let her back into the kennel, I sat against the chain-link door, and she sat next to me. Not close. The only people in the building were the office staff and me. They would finish in about an hour and it would be time to leave. In minutes her body moved to lie against mine. In a couple more minutes her head rested against my leg. In another couple she was on my lap. I still hadn’t tried to pet her. It would scare her to be touched.
When I heard the office being locked up, I kept my voice low. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but they’re going to turn off the lights soon and I have to leave.”
She raised her head and for the first time I got to see her eyes. Grey globes of sadness surrounded by white hope stared up at me. I calmly raised my hand and ran it down her back. She shuddered at the touch the first time but I did it again slower and she relaxed a smidge. I grazed down her back a couple more times. As if she was saying, “I’ve had enough,” she scooted off my lap, gave a small shake, which was great dog body language for “I’m feeling better,” and walked into her kennel. She didn’t look back. She went to her place on her pillow in the corner and curled into a ball.
I wanted to do the same, so I did. I went home and crawled back into my bed. Ignoring my phone when it buzzed with a text, then another, and later another, I kept my eyes closed and turned the grating-on-my-last-nerve metal off and sobbed into my pillow.
There was a knock on my bedroom door. Without invitation the six-panel wood door opened and light flooded into the room.
I pretended to be asleep, but Willow probed for information. “Presley, did you eat today?”
I ignored her.
“I’m not leaving until you answer me, and I might go get someone to start an IV line for liquid nourishment if you haven’t and choose not to eat something.”
“No, I didn’t eat, but if I do, I guarantee every bite will come back up. You and I both know what that might set off. I understand your concern, but it’s best I don’t start that chain reaction, Willow.”
I had an eating disorder for most of my teenage years, binging and purging meals until my body was crumbling from the inside out. I caused irreparable damage to my esophagus and the regurgitation had the not-so-lovely effect of triggering asthma. Thankfully, blessed with some hereditary graces, my teeth and heart stayed in good condition. There was always an undercurrent of potential relapse, especially if I attached an emotional issue to reversing a meal. The average stomach flu wouldn’t do it, but binging and purging emotions in association with food was likely to send me into a downward spiral that Willow, or even a medical professional, wouldn’t be able to fix.
“Honey, I understand. You know I do. Maybe we can talk about it and find a way to understand what happened together?”
I released a sob that had Willow moving toward the bed. “Thanks, Willow, but I want to sleep.” I tried to calm myself, but it was a complete freefall of emotion. “I’ll go to my training session in the morning and move on. I have a date with Rahl, the blond bartender from Two Fine, on Tuesday night at Brix. Maybe that will be something.” An involuntary wail of sadness that it wasn’t Jude hit the air.
Standing over me, Willow sighed. “Okay, Prez, but if you don’t eat something tomorrow, I’m instituting a friendship food intervention at DEFCON 1.”
“Understood, and I appreciate your concern. Good night, Willow.”
“Good night, Presley. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
She shut the door and I bawled myself to sleep.
Chapter Ten
Jude
Telling Presley that a professional relationship was the way to go was about the hardest thing I’d had to do in the last four years. After that morning’s three-hour seminar at Triple R on sexual harassment of and by coworkers, bosses, and clients in the workplace, I protected my career.
While I was telling Presley the whys of being only her trainer, I caught a glimpse of those easy-to-read emerald green eyes and almost said to hell with my career, but she took the news relatively well, which led me to believe maybe she wasn’t that interested anyway. I stuck with my reasoning but I couldn’t stop thinking about her for the rest of the day. I was that interested. Being just her trainer was going to be a struggle.
You’re being smart. Doing the right thing.
I barely made it through my shift at the bar Saturday night. Rahl told me he’d asked Presley out for drinks at Brix on Tuesday and asked what I knew about her. I gave a one-word response and acted too busy to elaborate. The Ogre—the waitresses had nicknamed Rahl the fitting moniker—commented about what he perceived as an attitude problem on my part. I responded that he would know. After all, he was the king of attitude. He huffed a chain of creative and noteworthy expletives under his breath. Jabbing the Ogre was never a great idea. I got the hell out of there as soon as possible, driving the backstreets a little too fast on my motorcycle to match the thoughts racing through my mind.
Sunday, I made a trip to the gym early in crazy hopes that maybe Presley would be there, and I could see how she was doing, but she wasn’t. On my way out, I remembered her saying she volunteered. Legitimately and logically, I kept telling myself that remaining professional was a good decision, but when it came to attraction and lingering feelings there was a lot to be said for acting irrationally.
Zane left for work and the house was too quiet. Lying in bed, I texted Presley. I considered that she said I didn’t have to but every cell of my body wanted and needed to know she was okay.
Jude: I know you said I didn’t have to but—5am. See you then.
A half hour went by. I didn’t like what I was feeling when there wasn’t a return text.
Jude: Are you okay?
Ten more minutes went by. I wondered if something was really wrong.
Jude: Presley, can you let me know if you’re okay? Please.
Five minutes later, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I called Kanyon.
“Hey, Ponytail.”
I chuckled.
Seems the nickname is going to stick.
I started with a soft opener. “Hey, Kanyon. So how is Willow, stud?”
“That’s a loaded question, dude.”
“Why?”
“Are you really asking about Willow or are you actually asking about Presley?”
My chest constricted, pulling at something that was fresh and raw on the inside. I did a sit-up in my bed. “What happened?”
“I think I should be asking you that question.”
“Kanyon, what’s wrong? Is it Presley? Is she okay?”
Kanyon sighed. “Not that I should be divulging what Willow told me, but I think you need to hear it. Willow came home yesterday after work and found Presley all kinds of messed up, crying, mumbling incoherently, and lying on the floor in the living room in a daze.”
I held my breath while he contin
ued his relay of information.
“Willow cancelled our date for Saturday night to take care of Presley. I convinced her to let me come over to keep her company and we listened to Presley cry in her sleep all night long through the paper-thin walls, which was a real mood killer. I’m pretty sure Willow wants to cut off the man part of your body. Jude, what the hell did you do?”
I sucked in a breath. “What I had to do. We had this excruciatingly long but eye-opening training about sexual harassment at Triple R yesterday morning. I realized I’d blurred the lines of trainer and client. Not only could I be fired, but because of my actions, I might have made Presley feel uncomfortable.”
“Okay, didn’t she get a hold of you to talk in the morning?”
“I was in that meeting. She left me a voice mail saying she was sorry for Friday night and regretted her behavior. I didn’t understand why she had regrets but it made me feel like I had to be the responsible one to get us out of something that might be causing her distress. I went to her house and told her I thought it was smart to stay in a professional relationship, but also I endangered her life on Friday by not concentrating on my responsibilities as her personal trainer and I didn’t want that to happen again.”
The silence that filled a minute or longer made me uneasy. I checked my phone. The signal was still there.
“Kanyon?”
“You’re a fucking idiot!”
“What?” The question shot out of my mouth.
“Fucking idiot! She can find another trainer. When she does, where does that leave you? You told her you know what’s best for her. You didn’t ask her what she wanted to happen. When I left Willow and Presley’s place on Saturday morning, Presley was all set to call you and make an effort to get to know more than the pretty picture on the exterior of your idiot body. Didn’t she do that?”
“Like I said, she left me a voice message while I was in a meeting at Triple R. I don’t remember all of it but I do know she didn’t sound happy. I showed up at her home and told her what I needed to. She didn’t really react anyway, so maybe she wasn’t that interested.”