by Regina Cole
“Mr. Liston, I’m going to need more information from you later. For now, I need to talk with this gentleman here. Is there somewhere quiet we could go?”
Rob tore his gaze away from Stacey’s antics, and nodded. “There’s a classroom right here off the hallway on the left side. You’re welcome to use that for as long as you need it.”
The officer nodded, and escorted Dylan away from the milling onlookers at the front of the gym.
Standing alone for a moment, Rob took a deep breath to ease his frustration. There was no one working out now; everyone who wasn’t standing around waiting for more sparks to fly had already gathered their things and left. The machines were empty, with the exception of one lonely ambler on a treadmill in the corner, whose headphones were on; he seemed not to care if the roof was falling down around him.
Healthy Living did not need this. They were just starting to make some strides, to get membership numbers up where they needed them to be. If this little incident cost him his business, he would be sorely tempted to murder Dylan Flowers. The teacher hadn’t even had a good reason to go after the student. All the student had done was to mention how one of the moves Flowers had modeled looked like a sexual position. It was a harmless joke, and Dylan had taken it completely wrong and then tried to throttle the guy.
Rob shook out hands that he just now realized had been curled into fists. A buzz in his pocket distracted him momentarily, and he pulled his phone free.
At the cardiologist’s office now. Thank you, Robbie.
Will keep you posted.
The text from his mother was a welcome relief, at least. He didn’t have to worry about his dad for the moment. One issue off his plate, and the cops had Mr. Flowers’s anger management issues in hand. Just one more thing to worry about: Stacey.
He turned on his heel and walked out the door, just in time to hear someone ask Stacey, “So, the whole thing is a police exercise?”
Stacey nodded, her smile bright. Rob’s melancholy began to lift. Hell, that was an incredible idea. It might even work.
“Yes, in coordination with the Atlanta Police Department, the city planning department has implemented a strategy planning session with local businesses. To help them respond to an emergency, we’ve got actors and other professionals in to help employers prep their staff for incidents that can pop up.” She turned and saw Rob standing there, and grabbed his arm. “Rob, I mean, Mr. Liston here, agreed to be our first ‘guinea pig,’ and he’s quite pleased with how his staff has handled this little exercise. Aren’t you, Mr. Liston?”
She pegged him with a stare. The message was clear in Stacey’s brilliant blue eyes. Lie. Lie your ass off, and you might just get out of this unscathed.
“Yes, it has been a really enlightening event. My staff has handled the exercise with aplomb, and they will each be receiving great feedback on their performances. They responded to the threat with calm and clear heads.”
A woman at the back of the crowd, who had been looking through the front windows while Rob was speaking, piped up with the question, “Do you guys do Pilates here?”
The relief that blanketed his shoulders nearly caused his knees to buckle, it was that strong. He shook off the feeling and pinned on his most pleasant expression. “Yes, we offer yoga, Pilates, and several other classes here, including some MMA classes.”
He mentally crossed Krav Maga off the list. It had been hard enough to find Dylan Flowers, and it would be a long time before he trusted himself enough to hire another teacher for that particular class. Too bad, because the Krav Maga class had had one of the higher initial enrollments.
“How much does it cost to join? This is a really nice place.”
“I like how they’re so prepared for an emergency. I mean, I work at a gun store, and we’ve never had any kind of training like that. It would be helpful, with some of the crazies we get in there.”
Rob fielded each question, his incredulousness and relief growing with each one. This whole disastrous situation had just turned into the best membership drive he had ever had. He glanced over at Stacey, whose calm expression fed his ever-growing gratitude toward her.
She was incredible. He had just wanted to keep her close, so he could keep an eye on her, protect her, and what had she done? She had protected him. She had done her best to save his business while he was in there trying to keep from killing the idiot who’d started this mess. He owed her big-time.
“Yes, once the exercise is over, we will be more than ready to accept applications. As a matter of fact, I’ll gather up some information packets for each of you who are interested and you can bring them by later once you’ve filled out the forms. Thank you.”
Stacey hobbled inside, and Rob followed. As he gathered up new member information packets, he nodded toward the bank of tables by the smoothie bar.
“Thanks for that. Now, please sit down, you need to rest some. You’ve done an amazing job, you’ve earned a break.”
Stacey’s smile wrapped around his heart and tugged. “I just wanted to help a little bit.”
“You helped a lot. Now, go and sit. I need to finish this dog and pony show before we lose our audience.”
Rob returned to the thinned-out crowd, and handed out packets to the prospective new clients. And as he returned, and saw Stacey with her back toward him, he had to fight the urge to wrap his arms around her.
Weird. Who would have thought?
Chapter 20
Stacey’s legs dangled off the edge of the doctor’s table, and she took a deep, steadying breath.
Rob had offered to come back into the examination room with her, but she’d shaken her head with a smile and a word of thanks. He’d been extra-sweet to her since she’d taken over the crowd control at the gym. Tender, even, as he put a hand at the small of her back to help her to the parking deck, pushing a lock of hair back over her shoulder as they talked in his car.
She wished he wouldn’t do that. It was becoming very hard to keep the idea that they were just friends at the forefront of her mind.
The paper beneath her crinkled as she shifted her weight and crossed her ankles. Hey, it didn’t hurt as badly now. The swelling and bruising in her leg was improving every day, and her limp was diminishing too.
She couldn’t have Rob back here with her. One of the questions she had would have been much too embarrassing to ask in front of him.
A brisk knock at the door made her turn, but the doctor was inside before Stacey had a chance to answer.
“Hi, Stacey,” the bright, blond woman said with a smile. Her white coat billowed out behind her as she breezed into the room, heels clicking on the industrial-tiled floor. “How are you feeling?”
“Better than I was, Dr. Colt,” Stacey said. “The headaches are much less now, and I haven’t had any double vision or anything.”
“Excellent,” Dr. Colt said as she typed on the small laptop she’d set on the flip-down desk.
Her examination was quick and thorough. Stacey opened her eyes when told, looking straight ahead as the doctor shined a bright light beside them. Turning her head this way and that, looking up and down, answering questions, it was a familiar routine at this point. She’d seen Dr. Colt three times now.
When she was done, Dr. Colt sat on the rolling stool once more. “You can stop waking up during the night for checks now as long as you don’t have any worsening symptoms. You can gradually start adding more normal activities to a day, but keep it very limited, and make sure you’re always supervised. Do you have any questions for me?”
Stacey took a deep, steadying breath. Time for her questions.
“When can I go back to my apartment? I’m staying with a friend, for now, because his place is one level and due to the whole supervision stuff.”
“I’d recommend you have someone around for the bulk of the day for the next week to ten days. Sometimes these things take a while to really show if you’re going to have problems, so while I’m encouraged by your progress, I
wouldn’t rush into staying on your own just yet. Think of it as a vacation if you can.”
“Okay. And driving? Work?”
“Same. Give it another ten days or so. I’ll clear you for driving at your next appointment if you’re still improving. And from what you’ve told me, your job can be high-stress at times, and the last thing we want to do is derail your recovery.”
Deep breath. One last question. She fought the urge to squeeze her eyes shut as she spoke. She could do this—it wasn’t a big deal.
“And . . . sex?”
Dr. Colt didn’t even bat an eye. “Sexual activity is no problem, as long as you don’t bang your head against a wall. Keep it low-key for the next week or two, no swinging from the rafters.”
Stacey’s relief was huge. “Thanks.”
With orders to return in two weeks, Stacey was set free. She walked tall—well, limped a bit—to the checkout desk.
Rob was there waiting for her at the door.
“All clear?”
“I don’t have to come back for two weeks.”
“Well, that’s good news,” he said as he followed her outside. “Anything else?”
“You’re still stuck with me, unless you’ll let me relocate to Hannah’s house.”
“Not a chance,” Rob said as he opened the car door for her. “I need to repay you for that incredible stunt at the gym. I owe you big-time.”
“No, I owe you for putting me up and taking care of me for the last week.”
“You took care of that and more with the way you saved my bacon today. Come on, let’s go get dinner. My treat.”
It had been his treat for days now, but she’d learned that arguing with him really didn’t get her anywhere. Stacey just shook her head and buckled her seat belt securely.
The late afternoon sun was weak in the western sky, falling quickly this time of year. She missed the sun, but the person sitting to her left did a lot to ease her winter blues.
Dinner was at a Japanese restaurant that Rob recommended. It was delicious. He had sushi, and she had udon noodle soup. Rob told her more about the teacher who had caused the incident at Healthy Living. Apparently Rob had discovered that the guy had been let go from one of his former positions because of anger management issues, but he’d managed to keep his nose clean for the last few years. Too bad for Rob, and for the gym, Flowers’s rein on his temper had frayed through at the wrong moment.
“I feel like dessert tonight, what do you say?”
Stacey looked down at her bowl, which was mostly empty. “I don’t ever turn down dessert. Of course, I should probably say no, but since the whole training thing is down the crapper at this point, why not?”
Rob frowned, lowering the dessert menu. “What do you mean?”
“Just that I’ve got no idea when I’ll feel up to returning to the gym. I’d barely gotten started when all this happened, and now?” She shrugged, laying her spoon down on the white tablecloth beside her bowl. “Just seems pointless to even think about continuing.”
“It’s never pointless to invest time and energy into bettering yourself.”
“That sounds like a commercial.”
“It’s not a commercial; it’s what I truly believe. You had made a commitment to getting healthy, to taking control of your life. Why stop?”
“Why continue? It’s more than I can focus on right now. Hell, right now I can’t even think about my job, let alone how many miles I could walk on the treadmill whenever walking doesn’t hurt like hell.” Her chest was getting tight, and her skin felt prickly and hot.
Rob stared at her, the softness in his gray eyes going steely. “You’re going to let this knock you down, aren’t you? You’ve already made up your mind that this means you’ve failed.”
“No, I haven’t! It’s just too hard, Rob.” Her fingers curled into her palm, and her tone climbed higher. “I can’t go to work, I can’t drive, why should I keep chasing the idea of getting my weight under control?”
“If that’s all you think your training was about—your weight—then I’ve failed you utterly.” Rob slid his wallet from his pocket and plucked some cash free as the waitress arrived at their table side. “Here, I don’t need any change. Thank you.”
The waitress accepted it with a smile and thanked them as Rob rose. “You ready?”
Feeling like she’d somehow ruined what had been a very good day, Stacey stood. Damn it, why should she feel guilty? Everything had fallen apart! And he was mad because she didn’t want to keep throwing herself at the brick wall of change?
Well, screw him.
And, as she watched his gorgeous ass move as he pushed the door open for her, she sighed. She wished she could screw him. But despite what the doctor had said, it was probably not happening.
Damn it.
* * *
Rob kept silent on the way home from the restaurant. Stacey, beside him, didn’t say much of anything, either.
It wasn’t for lack of things to say. There was plenty he wanted to say to her. But what right did he have to chastise her for falling off the wagon after the traumatic experience she’d just had? He’d probably screwed that up royally. He should have been more understanding, more gentle with her. But when she’d said she didn’t even want to try? All he’d heard was that he’d failed her, and that fact pissed him off.
Stacey deserved to be healthy and happy, and proud of herself. And the fact that this had knocked her confidence back further, and that he had done nothing to stop the slide?
God, it made him want to punch something. Normally, feeling this way, he would work out his frustrations on the heavy bag in the gym, or by running an extra five miles. But as it was? He’d have to settle for sit-ups in his guest room with Custard looking on. If Custard would leave Stacey’s side long enough, that was. Even his damn dog wasn’t on his side.
As the car drifted onto the off-ramp, Stacey finally broke the silence.
“Listen, I’m sorry if I pissed you off back there. I just don’t see how I can keep working out with all of this going on.”
Rob dragged a deep breath in through his nostrils as he flipped on his turn signal. “You don’t need to work out with all of this going on. I wouldn’t let you even if you wanted to right now.”
“Then why are you so pissed? This makes no sense at all.”
He shook his head. They needed to have a long discussion, and at the moment, he wasn’t exactly in the best frame of mind to lay his points out like he needed to. This was important, and he needed to get it right. He needed to think it through before having a talk with her.
“Stacey, let’s talk about this in the morning. It’s getting late.”
She stared pointedly at the dash as he cut the engine in front of his house. “It’s quarter to nine.”
The winter wind howled as he pushed open the door, the cold breeze swirling into what had been a pretty warm interior. He caught her shiver in the corner of his eye, and felt like a bastard. Again. Damn it, how could he possibly keep making her feel bad? That was the last thing he wanted to do. Hell, she’d stuck her neck out to save the gym today. She was his client; her health was his responsibility to an extent. He owed her an explanation, even if it wasn’t the perfect one he needed it to be.
Hustling around the car, he caught the passenger door before the wicked wind could knock it into her as she exited the car.
“Thanks,” she said, catching her hair in her fingertips and pushing it away from her face. Her cheeks and nose were getting redder from the cold by the second.
“Come on, let’s get inside,” he said, reaching out and grabbing her hand without a second thought. Her cold fingers curled into his and he led her toward his house.
It felt good to hold her hand. He didn’t let go as he put the key into the lock. When the door had shut behind them, and Custard had wagged and kissed her way around them, Rob finally relented and let go of her hand.
His felt cold and empty when her fingers fell away.
&nb
sp; “Come with me,” he said, and turned to walk into the living room. He didn’t wait to see if she’d follow, just bent down in front of the fireplace to switch the knob on his gas logs to ON. The pilot light clicked, and blue fingers of flame ran across them. The dancing flickers of fire chased a bit of the chill from his bones, and he held his hands out toward the welcoming heat as uneven footfalls announced Stacey’s entrance into the room.
He smiled, since his back was to her, and she couldn’t see. Amazing how the simplest action from her could make him happy.
“What is it?”
Turning then, he took in the sight of her.
She’d removed her jacket, and was leaning slightly against the doorjamb. Her gray top and black pants accentuated the brightness of her hair and her wind-reddened cheeks. Her arms were folded across her middle, and she looked down and to the side, as if she was unwilling—or unable—to meet his gaze.
She looked uncomfortable. Sad. He had done that, and he was a bastard.
“Can you forgive me?”
His question seemed to startle her out of her funk. Her arms fell, and her wide blue gaze was directed straight at him. “What?”
“I was a dick to you. In the restaurant, and all the way home. I shouldn’t have pressured you or made you feel inadequate, but I did, and I’m man enough to admit that I was a total fuckhead. Can you forgive me?”
She smiled a little, bemused, but no less beautiful for the confusion. “I forgive you. Thanks for the apology.”
With a motion, he invited her to sit on the couch. When she did, he sank down beside her and covered her hands with his.
“This definitely is a setback. I know you’ve got some recovering to do, physically, emotionally, and mentally. What I should have said in the restaurant was that I understand you’ve got some more things to overcome, and that I’m ready, willing, and able to help you through these additional challenges. This doesn’t have to be the end of this journey for you, if you don’t want it to be. You had made a commitment to like yourself, Stacey. And the thought of you giving up on that? It made me angry.”