“You’re gorgeous,” the gray haired woman gushes. “I’m going to need a lot of hands on assistance from this one,” she adds to Frankie.
He wags his finger at her. “No sexual harassing the new trainer.”
She lifts her hands innocently and winks at me.
We all head toward the gym where Frankie breaks down the regimen he has each of them on, and then explains to them that I’m a nutritionist in addition to being a trainer, so together we would possibly revamp their diets while I was there. All of this was done on camera.
As I sneak glimpses at the other trainers in the gym, one thing that strikes me is how frequently they speak to the camera. Frankie ignores it altogether and has his focus solely on the contestants.
After an hour of hanging out in the gym, they are done with us and we can go back to our rooms. I’m exhausted and it’s too late to call anyone on the east coast, so I crash.
I don’t sleep as long as I’d like, my internal alarm clock kicking in and waking me before the sun. It’s four am on the west coast; so knowing my mom will be up, I call her first.
“Hey, Ma.”
“How are you, honey? You sound tired.”
“Yesterday was a long day. I thought we’d have a day to settle in before they started filming, but I was wrong. I’m also adjusting to the time difference.”
“Don’t push yourself too hard.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
After also promising to call or text when I can, we hang up. I’d like to call Lindsay but I don’t know if it’s too early so I send her a text instead.
Just woke up. I plan to find out about Wi-Fi for our web sessions today. There’s a TV in my room so it might work.
I can’t help but grin when my phone starts buzzing with an incoming call from her.
“Hey.”
“How was your flight? Have you met any of the trainers or contestants yet? What’s the ranch like?”
“Whoa, slow down,” he laughs.
I blush, relieved he can’t see me. “Sorry. It’s exciting.”
“I didn’t know you were a fan of the show.”
Trying to rein in my fangirling, I reply, “I haven’t watched every season, but I think it’s inspiring, the results the contestants have had over the years.”
“Fair enough. I met some people yesterday, but I’m not allowed to talk about any specifics until after it has aired.”
“Oh, that makes sense.”
After a moment of silence, we both start talking.
Laughing he says, “You go.”
“It’s silly. I wondered what it was like.”
“What, what was like?”
I pause. “Everything, the plane ride, Los Angeles, the ranch.”
“Have you ever flown before?”
Not that he can see me, I still shake my head. “Never. Have you flown before this trip?”
“I have a couple times. I flew to Florida when we were younger to go to Disney World, and then again during college to spend spring break in New England with a roommate.”
“What’s flying like?”
“Before take-off, I always get nervous. I guess that goes away for people who fly all the time, but I don’t, so I still get nervous.”
“Are you afraid of crashing?”
“Yes, no, more nervous that I’m not in control. Before the plane takes off you hear the engines turn on and they are loud. You move down the runway but that feels like driving in a car, a big plane shaped car.”
As Luke talks, I sink until I’m sitting on my bed and let his words wash over me. Closing my eyes, I try to imagine he’s sitting right next to me and we’re flying somewhere together.
“What does turbulence feel like?”
“Have you ever been on a rollercoaster?” he answers my question with one of his own.
“Once, a long time ago.”
“Do you remember your stomach lifting and falling when you crest the first hill?”
“I don’t. It was so long ago.”
“Did you like it; do you remember?”
I lie back, turning onto my side and reach out to stroke Coco. “I think I did.”
“Would you ever want to go on one again?”
I laugh, startling Coco and she jumps off the bed as I sit back up. “We both know I’ll never ride one again.”
“You don’t know that,” he argues. “You’ve already done so much.”
I don’t want to argue, not while he’s so far away. When we disagree, sometimes I hang up on him and he drives out to my house to make me see his way. He’s too far to do that now.
Is that why I do it, to see him?
“I should go; I have to work,” I say, instead.
“I’ll text you once I figure out if my tablet can connect to this TV the same way it did at home.”
“Okay. That sounds good.”
“Bye, Lindsay.”
I pause, not ready to end the call, even though my words prompted it. “Bye.”
Whether from my hand or the call, my phone is warm. I press it to my cheek before setting it on my bedside table. I had walked in here for a sweater when Luke texted. I still need to take a couple pics for a post I have planned. It’s hard to concentrate. It’s silly I miss Luke as much as I do. He’s become my only true connection to the world outside of my computer.
If something were to happen to him, so far away, on the other side of the country, I don’t know what I would do. He’s so much more than a trainer now. He’s become my friend. He’s the only reason the world outside my door seems less scary.
I still haven’t moved when my phone buzzes with an incoming text.
I think it may work. Do you have time to test the connection out?
He’s never seen me in anything but workout clothes. I have full hair and makeup happening right now for the pics I was working on.
I can’t work out right now.
Not a workout. Only to test the connection so we can schedule future sessions.
Phone in hand I pace out to my living room to make sure it’s clean. That action in itself is wasted. Unless Coco does something, my house is always clean.
Okay. Right now?
I start attaching my tablet to the TV as I wait for his response.
Yes. Let me know when I can connect.
I turn everything on and text him back.
All set.
Within moments, I get the notification he wants to connect. Pressing the button, I quickly step back so I’m not filling up the screen and wave.
“Hi.”
Luke’s hair is tousled from sleep, I guess. His unmade bed is behind him on the screen. Gulping, I try not to stare at where he slept. I’m affected by it though. I’m imagining myself there with him, in his bed.
“You look so different.”
Blushing, I look down at my four-inch, short leather boots. All this working out and healthy eating has made my legs look amazing. Even I can see the difference in them. That plus the heels I am currently rocking make my calves look even better. Was different good or bad?
The black and white checkered skirt I’m wearing is on the short side. It didn’t feel short since I have black tights on until I saw the way Luke was looking at my legs. Nervously, I tug at the skirt in an effort to cover more thigh.
Mid-way bending forward to do that I remember how loose the neck is of the top I’m wearing. There is a ninety-five percent chance Luke just saw down my shirt. Gulping, I straighten, pressing my shirt to my chest on the way up.
When my eyes reach his, I’m stunned by how they’ve darkened.
“I’d ask if you were going somewhere, but that would sound crazy, right?” His eyes drop down to my feet and travel slowly up my body.
“I wrote about pairing dramatic colors with monochromatic looks for a pop of color.”
“I like the red.” Luke references my top.
“I had blue tights and a black blouse on before this,” I babble.
Even thousan
ds of miles away, his smile lights up a room.
“I still like the red,” he repeats.
Note to self, Luke likes red.
We both stand, staring at each other until there’s a knock at Luke’s door.
“Hang on a sec,” he says before moving to open it.
From the angle of his tablet, I can’t see who it is, but I can hear a feminine voice inviting him to breakfast. My stomach rolls and I wonder if that’s what turbulence feels like.
After a moment, Luke comes back onto the screen. “They’re calling us down so I have to go.”
“Okay.” I nod, wishing it were a man who came to get him and not a woman.
“I’ll text you once I know my schedule.”
I nod again and start to walk toward the tablet.
“Lindsay.”
I pause at my name on his lips.
“You look.…” He stops; his eyes still on mine.
“What?” I breathe.
There’s noise off to the side of his room, he looks away toward the source before looking back at me. “I should go,” he hesitates. “Bye,” he says and then he’s gone.
What was he going to say?
I’d gasp but I’d have to breathe to do that, and right now, all air seems to be frozen. After a moment of willing myself to inhale, I move again and disconnect my tablet from the cord hooking it to my TV.
First, he said I look different, and considering he has only seen me in workout clothes, that isn’t a shock. Was he going to say different again, or something else?
Who was the woman who came to his door? Was there a chance he was going to say I looked nice? I hurry back into my room and look at myself in my full-length mirror. My hair and makeup are on the incredible side. I curled my hair this morning and have big barrel rolls of curls hanging down. I can contour like a pro so my cheekbones look more defined than they are in real life.
I went basic with my eye makeup since the focus of the pics should be the color pop from my outfit and not my eyes. Why didn’t he finish what he was going to say? Now I’m going to be agonizing over all of the different possibilities.
No.
I have things to do. I’m not going to waste my time worrying over unsaid words. Well, I’m going to try not to, at least. I finish taking the pics for my blog post and slip off my boots. Everything else I’m wearing is comfy enough to leave on. Besides, the way Luke looked at me made me feel sexy, and I haven’t felt that way in a long time.
That’s what I’m going to focus on, how I feel.
I have a crush, potentially more than a crush, on a guy who is out of my league. There’s a time and a place for daydreaming about Luke; now is not it. I crank some music and get to work. I love my job and my blog. I take pride in all of my hard work.
The project that I’m working on right now for my day job is a rebranding of a Fortune 500 company. There’s no guarantee my employer will be selected; we’re still trying to earn their business. Being a part of the design team on this is a big deal.
I’m not the only designer working on this. The project manager gets all of our ideas, and then as a team, we review them and decide which design to focus on. If my design is picked, I’ll be listed not only as a member of the design team, but also as the lead designer. It would be huge honor.
I change into some workout clothes and hit my treadmill. Excitement from my design is giving me a natural high and energy I can burn off. I didn’t always celebrate like this. Before Luke, I probably would have celebrated with a bowl of ice cream. I might still do that; but thanks to Luke, it will be a bowl of orange sherbet with little dark chocolate chips.
After my run, I take a long, hot bath. The hot water soothes my tired muscles and relaxes me. Baths are becoming a more frequent enjoyment for me. As much as I love clothes, accessories, and makeup, these days, I’m becoming more and more comfortable in my own skin.
That doesn’t mean I love clothes any less, just that I’m finally beginning to love myself as well.
After my bath, I wrap myself into a fluffy cotton robe and make myself a treat. After I change for bed, Coco curls next to me while I read. Although my eyes feel heavy, I want to finish the chapter I’m on. Suddenly, my phone starts buzzing. Stretching out for it, I’m instantly awake when I see it’s Luke calling.
“Hi.”
“I wasn’t sure if you’d still be up.”
My eyes flick to my alarm clock. He’s right; it’s late. “I’m in bed.”
He gulps. “Did I wake you?”
“I wasn’t asleep. I was reading.”
“Anything good?”
My cheeks redden; the book I’m reading is somewhat naughty. “I like it.”
“What’s it about?”
My mouth dropped. “Is that why you called?”
“I wanted to hear your voice.”
My heart races. “My voice?”
“I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
I sit up, accidently knocking Coco off the bed. “You have? But why?”
“I think about you all the time.”
“Because you’re my trainer?”
“No,” he says, quietly.
“But, I don’t understand.”
“I like you, Lindsay.”
“As a friend,” I finish for him.
“Yes,” he replies and my heart falls. “But, more than that, too.”
What?
Did he…?
More than a friend?
“You like me as more than a friend?”
“I do.”
Throwing my feet over the side of the bed, I pace, clutching my phone to my ear. “What does that even mean?”
“Lindsay,” he groans, “what do you think it means?”
“Are, are you playing a trick on me?”
“Why would you say that?”
“Is there someone else on the line? Are you recording this?”
“What?” he snaps.
“I have to go. I have to go.” I end the call and toss my phone onto my bed as if it bit me.
It buzzes behind me as I stumble into my living room. Why would he say that? I thought he was my friend. Sure, I have a crush on him, but never in a million years would I think he’d play this kind of joke on me. Shaking I go straight to my fridge. I need something that will make me feel better.
A cookie, a cupcake, some chocolate, something.
The interior light from the fridge illuminates only a small portion of the kitchen. I fall back into darkness when I slam the door shut. I have nothing to eat, nothing. I storm back into my room and groan when I hear my phone buzz again.
Guys like Luke don’t like girls like me.
Growling, I slam my phone down onto my bed. What the hell just happened? After seeing Lindsay this morning looking so incredibly beautiful, I finally decide to man up and tell her I like her. Her reaction was not what I was hoping for. After all this time, she thought I was tricking her.
Lifting my hands to my face, I rub my eyes before shoving my fingers into my hair and pulling. She hung up on me and I’m too far away to go bang on her door until she talks to me again. I shouldn’t have told her. I rushed her and part of me knew this would freak her out.
I’m such an idiot. Why did I say anything at all? Because you like her, I answer myself, more than any girl you’ve been interested in before. When Gigi came to my door this morning, I could read her game a mile away. The way the TV was angled, I know she caught a glimpse of Lindsay.
On our way down to breakfast, she asked if Lindsay was my girlfriend. I wanted to say yes. Saying no sucked more than I thought it would. Seeing the gleam in her eyes when she knew I was technically available blew. I’m not available. There’s only one woman I want and somehow I need to convince her she can trust me.
All day long, I’ve thought about Lindsay. I can’t get her face out of my head. Calling her was a stupid idea though. I should have waited until I was home to talk to her. I had hoped she’d be happy; nope, she didn’t b
elieve me. I snatch my phone back up off my bed and try to call her again. After four rings, I know it will go to voicemail again, so I hang up. Desperate, I text her.
Please, call me back.
I should have left it at that but I didn’t.
Why would you think I’m tricking you?
Don’t you know me at all?
I hold my phone long enough for me to give up on her replying anytime soon. Falling backward onto my pillow, I groan. What was I thinking? Hmm, maybe that a girl I liked would be happy to hear it. Was that too much to ask?
I pop up when my phone rings; it’s her.
“Lindsay—”
“Stop,” she cuts me off. “Please stop calling and texting me.”
“No.”
“What do you mean no?” she snaps.
“Is it that awful that I like you?”
“I’m not talking about this.”
“Why, is there something wrong with me?”
“No.”
“Then why did you freak out when I told you?”
“I didn’t freak out.”
I can’t help but laugh even though I’m sure the timing isn’t right. “You absolutely freaked out.”
“Fine.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Do you like me?”
“You’re not listening to me.”
I stand and move over to the window, pulling the shade to fill my room with light. “You’re not answering my question.”
“This whole thing makes me uncomfortable.”
“Do I make you uncomfortable?”
“Always,” she snaps.
“But you do like me, don’t you?”
When she doesn’t say anything, I pull my phone from my ear to see if she’s hung up or not. It still shows we’re connected so I decided to wait for her to speak.
“Are you still there?” she finally asks after a minute.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“But, you already have,” she argues.
“Is that what’s upsetting you, that I’m far away?”
Yesterday's Half Truths Page 15