I sucked at both.
Now that I looked at her more carefully, she was wearing one of those sports bras that wasn’t really a sports bra, the kind that flashed more cleavage than a Victoria’s Secret ad.
Gawd, I sounded like such a judgy bitch. So I softened my smile. “Not that I know of, but he’s still getting settled. I’m sure in the next few weeks we’ll know a lot more. If he decides to take on clients, we’ll definitely post about it on our social, so keep an eye out.”
There. I sounded polite. Professional. Go me.
Brenleigh and her cleavage leaned in toward me. “What’s he like?” she asked, big brown eyes wide.
I paused. What did she want me to say?
“He seems very nice,” I answered diplomatically.
“I hope he’s not like, too nice.” She grinned. “What a disappointment, right? He can be hard on me any day.”
Then she bit down on her lip and giggled.
And it was the giggle, along with the criminal overuse of the word like, that had me imagining what it would be like for Brenleigh if I like, elbowed her in the face.
It wasn’t her fault, not really, because what Miss Brenleigh and her strappy bra and her burning curiosity did was nothing more than hold a mirror up in front of my face. Something about him turned me a little crazy and made me feel like I was Brenleigh. A caricature of the worst side of me.
The silly, unsubstantial side.
Even though it killed me to do so, I kept my smile firmly in place. “Are there any other questions about the workout today? I’d be happy to review anything since I didn’t get a chance to talk to you before class started. Normally, I’d go over the basic moves if this was your first time.”
She waved a hand in the air. “Nah, I’m good. Will he like, be here tomorrow if I come back for your four o’clock class?”
“I couldn’t say. He doesn’t have a set schedule.” I shrugged. “Perks of being the owner.”
Brenleigh sighed. “I guess. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks!”
And she bounced off. Actually, physically bounced. I pinched the bridge of my nose.
As she walked toward the front, where she sat on a bench to change her shoes, I did a lap around the bags, snagging two water bottles that had been left behind and a few wipes dumped just outside the garbage container. Only a few people were using the weight machines, with one person on the treadmills facing the TV Amy had installed a couple of years earlier.
My office was quiet when I walked in, and when I took a deep breath, I caught the slightest whiff of something masculine.
I sank into the chair and dropped my head in my hands. He wasn’t even here, and I could smell him. That was when I noticed the sweatshirt folded on the edge of my desk. He was wearing it at the meeting and must’ve left it. My fingers reached for the edge, tugging it toward me before I thought too hard about what I was doing.
The shirt was well-loved. A faded logo of a California gym on the front, the seams of the front pocket were ripped at the edges.
When I lifted it toward my face and took a deep inhale to see if that was the source of the smell, I shoved it back into place with a groan before I could go any further down this crazy-ass rabbit hole.
I know you don’t know me, but I’m sixteen, and I think you’re amazing, and even though I’m younger than you, I know we’re meant to meet.
My eyes pinched shut, and my heart raced uncomfortably when I thought about that silly, silly letter, folded carefully and locked inside the metal box.
I was no better than the bouncing co-ed fangirl and her substandard bra and her giggles and her like. Sitting up straight, I took a deep breath and stared hard at my own reflection in the glass overlooking the gym.
No more, I thought. No more sniffing. No more butterflies. No more wondering when he was going to come in or obsessing about whether we’d share space or he’d buy coffee. No more tripping at his feet or childish displays to make me feel better about my embarrassment.
“Isabel Ward,” I said, “get your shit together. This is fucking ridiculous.”
Sweatshirt back in place, I made the chair spin from standing too quickly and marched out of my office. With only one more class on the schedule for the rest of the day and no training sessions of my own, the gym would most likely be quiet for the next couple of hours.
It was easy to keep myself busy, and I popped in one earbud so I could listen to some music without missing anything that might need my attention.
Exiting the now cleaned women’s bathroom, I did a quick scan of the gym, something I did constantly when I was the only person working, and noticed that the gym was empty. A glance at the digital clock on the wall told me it would probably stay that way until we got our usual post-work day group.
Which was why I stopped short as a young girl sprinted across the room, white-blond hair flying, and then shimmied straight up one of the heavy bags until she’d hooked her tiny arms over the top and hoisted herself up onto the iron beam that held the entire rack in place.
In no more time than it took me to blink, she’d climbed to the top of the beam, where she now sat perched, legs swinging like she didn’t have a care in the world.
It took a concerted effort to close my gaping mouth, but I set down the cleaning supplies and looked around the gym. Not a parent in sight. It was completely normal for a few kids to tag along with their parents if they came to class, but this was not normal.
Nor was it safe.
The last thing we needed was someone’s kid falling from an iron beam and breaking her leg. I approached carefully, channeling all my big sister vibes. Her eyes were wide and clear and bright blue, and they tracked every step that I took.
I set my hands on my hips and glanced up at the beam. “Impressive,” I told her.
She didn’t answer, but her lips quirked in a smile.
“What’s your name?”
“You’re a stranger, so I shouldn’t tell you.”
I nodded slowly. “That’s very smart.”
“What’s your name?”
“Isabel. Where’d you learn how to climb like that?”
She shrugged. “Dunno. I’ve always known how.”
“And you’re not afraid of heights?”
Her hair swooshed when she shook her head.
“Do you think you could hop down to me?” Again, the hair swooshing and the head shaking. Okay then. “It would get pretty uncomfortable sitting up there all day.”
Her legs swung. Yeah, she was in no freaking hurry. How nice for her.
“I don’t know if I could climb up onto the beam,” I said, “but I do have one other trick I could do.”
Interest sparked behind those eyes. “What is it?”
I clucked my tongue. “Can’t tell you unless you hop down, kiddo.”
Her lips screwed sideways as she pondered that.
“Who’d you come here with?”
“My daddy’s in the bathroom. I heard him on the phone and got bored waiting.”
“Okay, well … maybe if you hop down now, I can show you my trick, and he won’t even see you up there.”
“He’s already mad at me because I pretended I had to puke so I didn’t have to go to day camp, but that place is dumb, and I don’t want to go, but my grandparents were busy and couldn’t watch me.”
I blew out a slow breath, imagining all the ways this could go sideways. “Can’t blame you, kid. I’d probably fake sick too.”
Her smile was bigger this time, and I caught a glimpse of an adorable gap where her front teeth would eventually grow in. My nephew Emmett lost his when he was almost eight, so I took that little nugget and ran with it.
“Especially because you’re, what, nine?”
She giggled. “Nope. I’m only seven, but I’m almost eight.”
“Yeah? When’s your birthday?”
“In ten months.”
I smothered my smile. “So close.”
“How old are you?” She shift
ed on the beam, and I fought the impulse to stick my hands out in case she fell, but apparently, only one of us was nervous about her perch, and it was not her.
“Twenty-five,” I whispered. “Super old.”
She giggled again. “You’re only old once you turn fifty.”
“Ahh. Very good to know.”
Her eyes darted to the side and then back to me. “Do you like to sing?”
My head tilted at the change of subject. “I’m not a very good singer, so no… I can’t say that I do.”
The line of her eyebrows lowered.
“Okay, I’ll come down, but only if you show me your trick first.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Bargaining, huh?”
“My aunt told me I should always stand up for what I want, so that’s what I’m doing.”
Well, her fricken aunt wasn’t here trying to get her down from the fricken metal beam, now was she? I kept my smile even, though. “Okay, but you’ve got to promise you’ll come down, right?” I held up two fingers. “Girl Scouts honor?”
She nodded vehemently.
“Okay.” I pointed at the beam. “Turn your one leg so you’re straddling it like you’re sitting on a horse, okay? Then hold on with both hands.”
I breathed a bit easier when she obeyed immediately.
“What’re you gonna do?” she asked.
“I’m going to hang on the bag,” I whispered. “With no hands.”
Her eyes widened. “No way.”
“Way.”
With a quick glance back by the bathroom, there was still no sign of her dad, so I shook my head and jumped, grabbing the chain along the top of the bag and pulling my body weight as high as I could go. Hoisted up like that, I tugged my legs up, wrapping them around the upper middle of the heavy bag, and crossed my feet at the ankles.
With a glance in her direction, I let go of the chains and let my upper body slowly fall back.
“Whoa,” she whispered.
My braid was swinging toward the ground when I lifted my upper body and did a couple of sit-ups from that hanging position. She clapped excitedly.
“How many more should I do?” I asked her.
“Twenty!”
“Oof. Okay. Then you’ll hop down to me?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Count for me then, boss lady,” I told her.
“One, two, threeeeeee,” she stretched out. I groaned as I did number four, and she giggled.
“You should be a trainer here,” I told her. “I pull that slow counting crap in my classes too.”
We made it as far as seven when I noticed someone approach from the corner of my eye, a tall shadow blocking the overhead lights of the gym.
Aiden.
Today, he was wearing a white T-shirt, snug across his boulder-like chest. His arms were folded over that chest, and even though I was hanging upside down, I could see the tightness in his mouth as he surveyed our little scene.
The girl stopped her counting. “Hi, Daddy! Look at the lady’s cool trick!”
That was when my ankle lost its grip, and I fell off the bag, landing at my boss’s feet in a tangled, graceless heap.
Chapter Five
Isabel
Maybe, just maybe, I thought, if I pretend that didn’t happen, he’ll be gone when I open my eyes. My legs flopped to the ground, and I winced when I rolled to my side, eyes still pinched shut.
“Whoa,” the little girl’s voice said. Aiden’s little girl’s voice. “You fell super hard, Miss Isabel.”
Fuuuuuck me, honestly.
“You okay?” he asked. His voice was close—low and rough—and it raised the hair on my arms.
Was I okay? Such an interesting question. Because no … I wasn’t.
I wanted to erase every freaking interaction I’d had with him, scrub it from my brain with bleach because somehow, they just kept getting worse.
But was I actually, physically fine? Uh-huh, sure, let’s go with that.
I let out a slow breath and took stock of my body, because if I’d hurt anything, hopping up was a terrible idea. “Yeah, I am.”
When I pried open my eyes, Aiden was crouched down, hands hanging in between his bent knees. His face was lined with concern, but he made no move to touch me, thank the Lord in heaven above.
If I was this much of a klutz when he breathed the same air as me, I’d probably spontaneously orgasm if we made skin-to-skin contact.
He nodded, rising slowly as I stood off the mats. Bracing his hands on his hips, his eyes turned toward his daughter, still swinging her legs up on that steel beam like she was at the freaking playground.
“Anya,” he said, all steady and calm, but I saw the tension in his jaw. “Time to get down.”
Her chin stuck out. “I’m not getting down for you.” She pointed at me. “I’m getting down because of her trick.”
“Fine,” Aiden said evenly.
“Can I jump off the top?”
“Absolutely not.”
She sighed dramatically, but reached her arms out. He moved underneath the beam and as I watched those arms extend toward her, I felt this dangerous swelling in my heart. Something I didn’t want to touch or poke at, but she hopped off the beam with such ease, such trust, that I almost had to look away.
Before he set her down, Aiden hugged Anya to his chest, her skinny arms wrapped around his neck, and I saw him release a quiet breath of relief.
Instead of watching the scene in front of me, I moved my gaze to the floor and smoothed a hand over my now-wrecked braid—a fitting symbol for my bruised pride.
“Sure you’re okay?” he asked.
I nodded.
“She’s not a good singer,” Anya chimed in. “She told me that.”
Aiden closed his eyes, while I … I tried not to stare awkwardly at his daughter because honestly, could this get worse?
“Anya,” he chided.
“I asked her.” She fiddled with the collar of Aiden’s shirt. “But I didn’t ask anything else.”
He gave me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.” Aiden let out another breath. He glanced around the gym. “There’s a class at six, right?”
Again, I nodded, because this was the signature move in the Isabel Ward library of reactions to this particular man.
“You teaching?”
Don’t nod, don’t nod. My tongue unstuck from the roof of my mouth. “Not usually, but I’m covering for Kelly.”
Anya’s eyes widened. “Do you show people how to punch like my dad?”
Aiden’s mouth softened, but still … it wasn’t quite a smile.
Maybe this little girl with her strange questions and horrible love of climbing could help me ease my way into ‘normal Isabel’ around him.
I tilted my head. “Show me your strongest fist,” I told her.
She curled up her little fingers so tightly that the skin over her knuckles went white.
“Very good.” I showed her mine, then tapped my pointer and middle finger knuckles. “Always aim to hit right here, okay? And don’t tuck your thumb inside your other fingers.”
Anya rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows that. You’ll break your finger.”
I set my hands on my hips. “Maybe I should have you teach class.”
She giggled, glancing up at her dad with an expression so adoring, I could feel every ounce of my body melt like a stick of butter.
“Okay, gingersnap, you can play on your iPad while I get a little work done,” he said, and oh holy hell, he called her gingersnap. His eyes came back to rest on me, and I prayed to all the deities in all the religions in all the world that he couldn’t see what that did to me.
Honestly, it was like he was trying to be the most attractive man alive. And the fact that he didn’t realize he was made it even more attractive, which was an entirely separate issue. She motioned him down to her own height, and whispered something in his ear. If his face had been angled in my direction, I might have seen his lips curve in a smile, but instead, I
simply saw the edge of his cheek move. But he nodded to whatever she said.
Anya gave me a shy smile. “You’re really pretty, Miss Isabel. I think you look like Wonder Woman.”
Instead of laughing her off, or dismissing it because Aiden was watching, I held my arms up in an X over my chest, and winked. When her face transformed into a wide smile, for the first time, I felt okay about an interaction with my new boss. Sort of.
Each embarrassing moment could get tucked away, in the corner of the box, held in place by each time I managed to take baby steps into something normal with him. I didn’t want to fawn over him, I didn’t want to study each nuance of each moment, because it felt wretched.
Anya ran off to his office, and to my surprise, Aiden didn’t follow.
“I owe you, Ward,” he said.
I blinked. “For what?”
Aiden jerked his chin toward the top of the steel beam.
My cheeks flushed hot. Honestly, with the flushing and the falling and the nodding. “No, it’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.”
“Yes,” he said evenly, “I do.”
There was nothing for me to say, because 1- I was afraid I’d keep arguing because no, I didn’t owe him anything for getting the small child off the very high beam, and 2- it seemed safer not to initiate a conversation with him.
Problematic, that.
“Anya,” he said, lifting his chin toward where his daughter had disappeared, “she’s done that her whole life.” At the lift in my eyebrows, he clarified. “The climbing. Doesn’t give me a heart attack like it used to, but every once in a while she goes a little too far.”
The way his voice softened when he spoke of his daughter had all sorts of melty, gooey things happening in my body. At first, all I could do was nod. But when I said nothing in response, I felt his curious regard.
Promise me you’ll try, I heard Amy say in my head. At the time, she’d had no clue what she was asking of me, but I’d given her my word all the same.
Before I could form words though, Aiden spoke again.
“You don’t like that I’m here, do you?”
Forbidden: A Ward Sisters Sisters Novel Page 5