“Who knows? Chippendales might offer you a job when we’re done with you,” Emily quipped. “We need you to sign something that says it’s okay to make up posters. You pick the photo you want. We’ll do the rest. Can you be ready to start a week from today?”
“I’ll be ready. That one,” he said, pointing to the picture Emily and the others favored. “I like your wallpaper.” He grinned.
“We’ve had many lively discussions out here looking at those photos.” Emily laughed. “We’ll make up a schedule and I’ll give you a call.”
“See you around.”
Whatever it takes. Whatever I have to do, I’ll do, Emily thought as she made her way upstairs. It was going to work, she could feel it in her bones, feel the success, the satisfaction. Whatever it takes.
It was two weeks before the women were satisfied with what they called the Charley Wyland blitz promotional package. They literally worked around the clock and aired the video Emily insisted Charley make on all the cable channels in the area. The newspapers carried a regular rogue’s gallery of shots showing Charley in every imaginable pose in their weekend Lifetime sections.
According to Charley, he was getting calls for gigs and was booked into the following year. It was Emily’s suggestion that he hire a group of dancers and train them to put on an all-male revue every so often. “It’ll be your own business on the side and you take a cut of the profits,” she said to encourage him.
Charley countered with, “Emily, I’m not sure you’re heading in the right direction. It all sounds great and I love the idea of performing for all your ladies, but I think you’re losing sight of what it is you’re hoping to accomplish. Your clientele is middle-aged women. I think you need older men, men like Ben who are fit and look good. I’m a fantasy and I say this with great modesty. I don’t think that’s fair. I can see the revue as a fun thing, but I think you need to rethink this strategy.”
“How old did you say you are?”
“Twenty-four.”
“You know what, Charley, I think you are absolutely right. I guess I’m so desperate to make this a success, I didn’t think it through. The others followed my lead. It’s kind of late to switch up now; all the publicity is in place.”
“I can be a Grand Opening flash and you phase in the other way a little at a time. I’d hate to see you fail, Emily. You ladies have all worked so hard. Think about it.”
“I think you’re right, Charley. I’ll call a meeting and see what the others have to say. Would you be amenable to hiring some older men and training them too? Stress physical fitness above dancing, though.”
“Well, sure. Ben probably knows a lot of guys who might be interested. Women tend to think only women teach aerobics. With serious-minded men teaching classes, the women will try harder. That’s my opinion.”
“It’s a good one, Charley. Thanks for the advice.”
“You have a lot of money tied up in this venture, don’t you?”
“My retirement money. When it’s gone, if this doesn’t work out, I’m back to waitressing. My degree can never earn me the kind of money I’ll need for my twilight years. God, that sounds terrible—twilight years. I don’t imagine you can even comprehend that.”
“Are you kidding? My dad split fifteen years ago and my mom had to take over. She works in the office of a lawn maintenance company. She works weekends cashiering at a drugstore. She put me through junior college, but we both realized that wasn’t for me. I help out; in fact, I give her most of my money. She doesn’t have any kind of pension and my dad’s insurance ran out a long time ago. If you ever get this off the ground, maybe you can hire her and put her in your fund. You did say this was about women helping women, right?”
“Yes, that’s what it’s all about. I’ll do my best, Charley. Are you nervous?”
“Nah. Well, maybe a little bit. If this works out, I want to get into bodybuilding. That’s my dream. My mom can take over the training class if we get this off the ground.”
“We’ll help in any way we can,” Emily said. “That’s a promise, Charley. And…Charley, I want to ask you something, and after you answer me, I want you to forget I asked. Agreed?” Charley nodded. “Am I, in your opinion, exploiting women? I’m sure with all the publicity you’ve gotten in the past few weeks you’ve heard a lot of…you know. I don’t want to do anything that will degrade you or the ladies who come to the clinics to work out.”
“I asked my mom that same question and she said no. The way I see it is you’re trying to get a business off the ground. Your goals are what’s important. I entertain. You’re hiring me to give your ladies incentives to be the best they can be. Look, Emily,” Charley said, placing his hands on her shoulders, “you do whatever you have to do to get this business off and running. If for some reason it doesn’t work out, and I don’t think that’s going to happen, but if it does, you’ll know you gave it your all. Keep your goals in mind and do whatever you gotta do.”
“That’s pretty much how I look at it, but I am so worried I won’t be able to pull this off. On paper it looks good. In theory it looks even better. The reality is what I fear.”
“Hey, Emily, you know what they say about fear. There’s nothing to fear, but fear itself.”
“I seem to recall hearing that once or twice in my lifetime,” Emily said wryly.
“Third time’s the charm.” Charley laughed. “Chin up, Emily.”
The Emily’s Fitness Centers’ second grand opening happened precisely at noon the following day. Women attired in business suits and high heels and carrying briefcases stood next to mothers with tots in strollers who mingled with students from the local college. Charley arrived in his yellow satin cape with matching Speedo suit. Emily didn’t know what to expect, catcalls maybe, shrill whistles, but it didn’t happen as the women lined up for the aerobics class while others took to the machines. Mentally she tried to calculate the money the hour was going to bring in as she settled herself behind the desk, registration cards in front of her.
Emily listened in awe as Charley gave a brief speech about nutrition, caring for one’s body, self-satisfaction, and the rewards that would follow if all of the above were adhered to. Then he turned on his tape deck and proceeded with the first of his two thirty-minute aerobics classes. This time Emily did hear little sighs of pleasure from the women on the machines.
When the hour was over, the women again stood in line to sign up and pay for their membership. There were so many queries Emily found herself hard-pressed to answer them all. The main question seemed to concern the aerobics class. “Three times a week is what we’re scheduled for at the moment. We’re working on the schedules. The clinics are interchangeable. If you can’t make it at this location, you can go to one of the others. The aerobic fees are separate, but they do entitle you to use the machines for thirty minutes after the class.”
No one complained. Everyone left with tired smiles. One and all were invited back for a free orientation class at closing, which was scheduled for eight-thirty. Emily stressed the word free.
One by one the women straggled back to the house on Sleepy Hollow Road. Emily was the last to arrive at ten-thirty. Zoë poured hot chocolate for Emily and offered her a sugar cookie, which she devoured greedily. She immediately lit a cigarette. “I didn’t smoke today. I didn’t have time. I can hardly believe it,” Emily said wearily. She tossed her cash bag on the table. “Someone else has to count it, I’m whipped.”
“Let’s do it in the morning,” Lena said, gathering up the bags to put in the freezer; their in-house safe. She whirled around to set the security alarm.
“Turn it off, we have to go home,” Rose said. The others waited for Helen to speak, and when she didn’t, Emily burst out laughing.
“You did it, you broke that cord. How’d it go?”
Helen smiled. “I was so busy trying to explain how the digital gadgets work on the machines I didn’t have time to worry. I didn’t even call Rose until seven o’clock. I did everyt
hing myself. For the first time in my life.”
“Rose?”
“It worked the same way for me,” she said shyly.
“That’s more important than anything else we did today,” Emily said. The others agreed.
“You guys go ahead and talk. I’m going back to the apartment and soak in a hot bath. You coming, Rose?” Helen asked.
“No, I’m going to have another cup of hot chocolate. I’ll be quiet when I open the door.”
“Okay,” Helen said cheerfully.
“I’m going to bed too. Listen, let’s meet here in the kitchen and talk in the morning. Charley and I had a talk early today. We’ve got some kinks to work out and one of my machines isn’t working properly. Whose towels am I doing tomorrow?”
“Mine,” Lena said. “They’re in my car. I’ll load them in yours in the morning and pick up your clean ones. Next week I do the laundry, right?”
“Yes. See you in the morning.”
In her room, Emily stripped down and fell into bed. She was almost asleep when she remembered she had to call Ben Jackson. He wasn’t home so she left a groggy-sounding message asking him to stop by the clinic around noon. She was about to drift off when it occurred to her that it was after eleven. Where was Ben at this hour? Not that it was any of her business. Or was it?
Chapter 12
Shortly before noon the next day Ben Jackson entered the clinic and said, “Whoa, you need sunglasses when you come in here. Sorry I wasn’t home when you called last night. How’d it go with Mr. Sex Appeal?”
“We had a great day financially. If it keeps up, we’ll do okay, but I’m realist enough to know it can’t keep up like that. Charley and I had a talk yesterday. Meet me in the cool-down room; I have to explain how these machines work to that lady in the green sweat suit.”
“If you tell me where the cool-down room is, I’ll be glad to meet you there.”
“Around the corner. If you get bored, feed Harry and Harriet.” Emily grinned.
When Emily joined Ben fifteen minutes later, she laughed at the way he was sprawled out on the futon, his eyes glued to the fish tank. “Before you ask whatever it is you’re going to ask me, I want to ask you something. Will you have dinner with me on Saturday night?”
“You mean a date?” She felt flustered, remembering the time they’d been glued to the workout mat.
“Date’s a good word. Two people having dinner. I can pick you up and then it’s a real date. If you meet me at the restaurant, we’re two people having dinner.”
Emily’s face was as pink as the towel in her hand. “Okay. You can…you can pick me up.”
“Okay, that sounds good. Chinese, Italian, French?”
“Chinese. I like Italian and French too,” Emily said carefully.
“Well, I guess we could go Chinese for the wonton soup, hit the Italian for the ravioli, and then go French for some chocolate mousse,” Ben said with a straight face. “Busy night, though.”
“Chinese.”
“Sounds good. I’m looking forward to my fortune cookie already. How about you?”
“Can’t wait.”
“Six-thirty okay?”
“Six-thirty’s good. We close at six. Pick me up here, okay? I hate to admit this, but we’re showering here at the clinics to save on our water bill at home,” Emily said.
“Makes sense. Now, what do you want to talk to me about?”
Emily told him about the conversation she had with Charley. “I think he’s right. These clinics are geared to middle-aged women. You’re middle-aged and you look…good. They’ll be comfortable with you.”
“Comfortable!” Ben protested. “Comfortable!”
“You know what I mean,” Emily said, remembering the feel of his body next to hers.
“I’m not into satin capes and Speedo tights or whatever that…that thing is the guy wears.”
“It’s a bathing suit. They sell them everywhere.”
“To exhibitionists,” Ben grated. “I’m not shaving the hair on my body. And I’m not oiling it either.”
“Does that mean you’ll do it?”
“It means I’ll think about it,” Ben said.
“You’ll have to sign up for Charley’s class. I’ll pay for it.”
“Emily, I’m forty-five years old. Do you really expect me to get up there with those young studs and do…well, whatever the hell it is they do? Oh, no, that’s not for me.”
“How about private lessons?”
“If you give them to me. You’ve seen the video a hundred times. But at your house. I still have to think about this. I’m not committing.”
“A private lesson is good,” Emily said weakly. “Do you think it will help, Ben? Your honest opinion.”
“Sex sells. Everyone knows that. Alluding to sex sells. Sex is fun. I’m just not sure I’m up to peddling my body. At my age it seems a little decadent.” There was a hint of a smile on his face, Emily noticed.
“Uh-huh. I guess that’s a good answer. What you’re saying is it will probably work. At least for the time being. Decadent is in,” she said devilishly.
“On that thought, I’m going to leave you. I have to go to Princeton to do a workout with some executive who’s seventy-eight pounds overweight. I’ll see you Saturday.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
“See that you do,” Ben said, rapping her butt with one of the pink towels.
He’s flirting with me. A man is flirting with me. A man has asked me out on a date and I said yes. A man is really taking me out to dinner and he’s going to pay for it. Oh, my. What to wear?
Seven phone calls later it was agreed that she was to wear a dress with a long, circular skirt with an Indian pattern, low-heeled shoes because she was just as tall as Ben, with a single strand of pearls and pearl earrings. When Emily hung up the phone, she decided her friends were more excited than she was.
She thought about Ian then because she always thought about Ian when things were going badly or particularly well. Where was he? Had he filed for a divorce? Bastard. He’d never called once to see if she was alive or dead. You’re renting space in your head to Ian and he isn’t paying for it, Emily. Shelve it. Think about your date with a very nice man. Think about how well you get along. He likes you. He teases you, flirts with you. When did Ian ever do that? Only when he wanted something from you.
Business was brisk, but not overwhelming. Slow and steady. Emily had time to do some of the laundry, chat with her new customers, and still call the other clinics to see how they were doing. All of them gave positive reports.
How long was it going to last? Ben didn’t seem overly optimistic. Sex sells, he’d said, but what happened when women got tired of looking at young muscular bodies? What happened when they decided they didn’t want to look at Ben Jackson? Then I’m just another exercise clinic or health club. What made her clinic different from a health club? A club had members who gathered for a common purpose whereas a clinic was a facility for diagnosis and treatment for outpatients. She truly believed in her heart that, psychologically, women in midlife felt more comfortable knowing they were in a clinic as opposed to a club.
“Whatever will be, will be,” Emily murmured. “If I fail, I’ll go on to something else.” She looked at her watch. Fifteen minutes until the ladies on the NordicTracks were due to move on to the treadmills. Time to read up on the herb book Lena had given her. She made notes as she read. It was all so interesting she had to be called twice when the buzzers on the machines went off.
Inside the workout room, Emily addressed the nine women on the machines. “I’d like to ask you a few questions. How do you all feel about herbs? What I mean is, if I told you there were herbs you could take to keep your bodies in good shape, would you take them, knowing what we all know about osteoporosis in women our age? Just raise your hand. How about teas made from the herbs—would you drink them?” All nine hands shot in the air. “Would you drink them here or would you make them at home?” Fifty fifty.
“Let me ask you something else. If I held a class over the weekend at one of the clinics on nutrition, herbs, and vitamins, would any of you take the time to come and listen? The class would be free, of course.” Seven hands shot in the air.
“I work weekends,” one woman said.
“I go to Pennsylvania to see my mother in a nursing home,” the other woman said. “I’d take any literature you have, though. If you had a class during the week or at lunchtime, I might be able to make it. Is it a one-time class or is it ongoing?”
“I’m not sure. I just want to get a feel for how receptive you ladies are. It’s preventative. However, there are herbs for ailments too.”
“Give us an example of both,” a woman on the exercycle called out.
“A tea made with mistletoe will help to bring down high blood pressure. You can mix it with angelica root, ground fine, mix two teaspoons of each in a pint of water and bring to a boiling point, cool it and drink two or three cups a day. You might be interested to know mistletoe is the only herb mentioned in the U.S. Dispensatory as a treatment for high blood pressure. That’s if any of you are interested.
“Here’s one for hair. It prevents you from going gray. I’m going to try it myself. You make a tea from the leaves of a grape vine and wash your hair in it once a month. Supposedly Indians used it. Some lady in Utah says it works. I guess you could use it as often as you wish.”
“You got any more, Emily?”
“How about flushing out fat and cholesterol with garlic and vinegar.”
“If it works, you could probably make a fortune.”
“Better be prepared for the medical profession to come down on you real hard.”
“I’m for whatever works,” a woman doing leg lifts gasped.
“That’s pretty much how I feel about it,” Emily said. “I’m not saying people shouldn’t take prescription drugs. I’m saying if there’s a way to treat a condition or ailment without drugs, try it.” The women concurred.
This from someone who used to be married to a doctor, Emily thought as she made her way to the front desk to answer the ringing phone.
Dear Emily Page 15