by Linda Verji
The seated woman winced as she did her first rep.
Olivia asked, “Too heavy for you?”
The woman tested the dumbbells again and nodded. “A little.”
“Let’s try these twenties.” Olivia handed her another set of dumbbells. “Those okay?” The woman nodded and Olivia said, “Ten reps.”
Marcel waited until Olivia stepped away from her client before approaching her. “Hey.”
Ignoring the fluttering in her belly, she offered him a smile. “Hey.”
Passing his towel over his face, he said, “I wanted to ask for a favor.”
What did he need? A massage for those shoulder he was rolling? For her to pour water over his shiny muscles? A kiss to wet his dry lips? Her imagination conjured up ridiculous scenarios that had her mentally slapping herself. Get a grip, Olivia.
Her voice was surprisingly even as she said, “Yeah, sure! What do you need?”
“I’m leaving for Morocco tomorrow for a conference and I need someone to watch Pig.” Massaging the back of his neck, he added, “I’d ask Sebastien but he’s headed out to San Diego for some concert, and his wife has her hands full with work and their kids.”
Olivia shrugged. “Sure, I don’t mind. Bring him over tonight at around nine.”
“It’s for a week.”
Her spirits plummeted at that revelation. A whole week? She wouldn’t be able to see Marcel for a whole week? Covering her disappointment with a fake smile, she said, “More time for me to bond with him.”
Marcel narrowed his eyes as he observed her. “You’re planning to spoil him, aren’t you?”
She laughed. “He won’t want to come back home when I’m done.”
“I’m beginning to regret asking you.” Marcel pursed his lips and shook his head, but there was a twinkle of amusement in the liquid depths of his brown eyes.
“Don’t worry, Marcel. I’ll take care of your baby.” She patted his chest reassuringly, but at the feel of the deliciously hard muscles underneath her palm was temporarily paralyzed. Lowering her eyes to his chest, she flexed her fingers reflexively over his right pec for a moment.
When she realized what she was doing, she quickly dropped her hand and yanked her gaze upwards, only to find him staring down at her. She expected him to tease her for practically mauling her. Instead he looked at her with an oddly inscrutable expression.
Mesmerized by the intensity in his gaze, she couldn’t look away. An odd quivering excitement gripped her and her lips parted on a rushed release of breath. She licked her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue. Marcel’s gaze lowered to her lips, following the movement of her tongue. His eyes hooded, he started to lower his head.
The other woman in the room cleared her throat. “Liv, I’m done with my set.”
It was like being hosed down with cold water. Olivia practically jumped away from Marcel as she turned her startled gaze to the woman who was observing them with barely repressed amusement.
“That’s good.” Olivia turned back to her client. “Why don’t we try bicep curls now?”
By the time she was calm enough to glance behind her without blushing madly, Marcel was gone.
With him gone, she could finally breathe and concentrate on her work, but the antsy feelings he’d aroused persisted throughout the day. They morphed into irritation when Nikki walked into the treadmill room a little after lunchtime. Even in a gray racer-back tank-top and matching joggers, the pregnant redhead exuded class. From her neatly tied ponytail with no strand daring to escape, her perfectly arched eyebrows, her aquiline nose to her slightly raised chin, she was the picture of studied grace.
It was irrational, petty and unfair, but every time Olivia saw the woman she wanted to smack her. Nikki was a glaring reminder of Tay and how inadequate Olivia was compared to her. All Olivia wanted to do was forget that man, forget them. Yet Nikki kept coming to Body & Spirit.
Taking a deep fortifying breath, Olivia pasted a welcoming smile on her face and approached the redhead. “Hey, Nikki.”
“Hey,” Nikki returned her smile. “How was your weekend?”
“It was good,” Olivia said. “Yours?”
“Interesting.” Nikki quirked a smile. “Tay found out that I come here to train and wants me to quit.” She hung her white face towel on the arm of the treadmill closest to her. “He claims that he doesn’t want me here because I’m wasting money. But we all know why he really doesn’t want me here.”
Why couldn’t the woman just say ‘I’m fine’ like everyone else? Olivia responded to that deluge of information she didn’t need the only way she could, “Oh.”
Unfazed by Olivia’s less than eloquent participation in the conversation, Nikki continued, “He thinks I’m an idiot. After being married to him for ten years I can read him like a goddamn novel.” She paused to climb the treadmill then gestured towards the control. “Liv, come put this on for me.”
Did she know that Tay had turned up at Olivia’s on Saturday? Already discomfited by the awkward conversation, Olivia didn’t ask. Quietly, she fiddled with the treadmill’s controls. When the machine came to life and started moving, she increased the pace until it was at a slow walk speed. She looked upwards at Nikki who’d started walked in rhythm to it. “Faster?”
“No, I’ll increase it myself.” Nikki released a heavy rush of breath. “I made that man. He was just some lowly law student when we met. Bottom of his class.” She sneered. “Hardly the stuff of Franklin and Bash. If it wasn’t for me, he would’ve ended up some bum chasing ambulances up Hopkins Street. I groomed him, my daddy gave him a job everyone dreams of, and I gave up my career for him and his children.” Her face morphed into an ugly mask of anger as she shot Olivia an angry sideways look. “After all that work he thinks he can tell some thing he met on the streets he loves her?”
Oops! The claws were coming out. Olivia would’ve protested at being called a ‘thing’ but the look on Nikki’s face was scary enough that she kept silent and side-eyed the door. If Nikki went ‘Diary of a Mad White Woman’ on her she wanted to make sure all exits were wide open.
“Sorry, Liv.” Nikki closed her eyes, shook her head. The anger in her expression drained and was replaced by another sugary sweet smile. “Tay just makes me so angry.”
Pushed by morbid curiosity, Olivia asked, “Will you quit the gym?”
Please say yes.
“Ha, no!” Nikki puffed out. Her red ponytail swung with the vigor of her walking. “I like this gym…” She gave Olivia another sideways smile. “… and I like you.”
Her brow rising, Olivia said, “Thanks.”
Nikki was a really odd ball wasn’t she? Olivia really couldn’t see herself being so civil with her man’s other woman let alone sharing private stuff about her marriage with her. Didn’t the woman have girlfriends, or a Lex, who she could rant to?
“Liv,” a client called out a couple of treadmills away. “Could you show me how to increase my incline?”
Olivia had never been so glad to be pulled away from a conversation. For the rest of Nikki’s session she kept her distance. She released a breath of relief when the other woman didn’t come looking for her after her time on the treadmill elapsed.
Just after eight in the evening, Olivia bid goodnight to her colleagues then headed towards the elevators. They’d started the journey down when her dad called.
“You’re leaving work now?” her dad roared when she told him where she was. “Are you trying to get yourself killed.”
“Dad, I won’t get killed.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m a tae kwon do black belt.”
“Baby girl, they only gave you that belt because I paid them,” her dad pointed out glibly.
“I caught a few things while I was there,” she defended herself. The elevator pinged its arrival at the ground floor. Entering the elevator, she continued, “Nothing will happen to me.”
“Why won’t you let me buy you your own gym?” her dad suggested for the one hundredth and somethin
g time since she’d decided to be a trainer. “You wouldn’t have to wake up so early or leave so late. You’d never have to worry about money.”
“Because, I don’t want you paying my way through life. I’ve got hands, legs and that good education you paid for me. Let me use them.”
“Come on. Who am I making this paper for if not for you?” Elias wheedled.
She sighed. “Don’t worry, Dad. The moment I go broke I’m raiding your bank account.” Then to distract him she asked about his latest paramour, “Did you take Vanessa for that trip?”
“I ain’t got time for that,” he dismissed. “She wants to go to Trinidad she can take herself.”
“Dad,” she called out in an exasperated tone as she walked out of the building. This was the reason he’d never been married. He didn’t take his relationships seriously. “You need to start-”
Her words, like her steps and her pulse, came to an abrupt stop when she saw her car.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she exclaimed, staring goggle-eyed at the mess that was her tires. All four were flat, flatter than pancakes. Her voice rose as she propped her fist on her hip. “Are you serious?”
“What’s wrong?” her dad cut into her shock.
“My tires. All flat.”
They were fine when she’d parked in the morning. What had happened between then and now? And all four?
“See this is why you need to let me buy you that gym,” Elias chimed in her ear. “You wouldn’t have to deal with flat tires and all that bullshit.”
“Dad, let me call you later.” Olivia ended the call before her dad could continue his pitch. Narrowing her eyes, she contemplated her Nismo. This wasn’t an accident. Tires didn’t flatten themselves. First the Sprite battery and now her tires? Someone was out to get her. Immediately the image of Nikki flashed in Olivia’s mind. Could it be?
She shook her head. No. The woman was pregnant, and so far she’d been exceedingly nice. If she wanted to come at Olivia she’d had ample opportunity. This stunt was childish. Nothing about Nikki said childish; maybe inappropriate, but never childish. But then again, a woman scorned…
CHAPTER 14
If this was sabotage then there was one person who’d know about it. With determined steps Olivia strode towards the guardhouse.
“Hi, Elliot,” she greeted the dark-skinned bald-headed guard. “Did you see who punctured my tires?”
“What? Someone punctured your tires?” Elliot’s brow furrowed in shock. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She and the guard marched to her car.
“Woah! They have it for you, don’t they?” The guard’s eyes widened as circled the car scanning the damage. “I’m really sorry but I didn’t see who did it.”
“This is Gomer’s fault.” Olivia released a frustrated gush of breath. “If he fixed that camera stupid things like these wouldn’t be happening.”
The guard nodded in agreement but said nothing, probably too scared to talk smack about his boss. Olivia glowered at the tires. Now what? With only one spare in her trunk, she had only one option. She dialed her guy’s number.
Romeo picked up on the second ring. “Yup, yup.”
Putting on her cutest voice, she called out, “Rooomeo.”
“Nope,” he snapped quickly. “If you’ve done some more shit to your car I’m not dealing with it tonight.”
“Romeo,” Olivia whined.
“Hell, nah! I’m with Lucinda and she’s about to give me head. Do you know what her tongue-”
“Woah, dude, TMI,” Olivia cut in before he could get even nastier. “Someone messed up all my tires and I need replacements. Come help me out.”
“At this time of the night?” Romeo scoffed. “You must not know who you’re talking to.”
“I know you. You’re a good guy who wouldn’t leave your girl out in these rough streets to get killed.”
“Wrong negro.” Romeo laughed. “I think you’ve got me confused with Lex.”
“Don’t be like that,” Olivia pleaded.
“I’m not coming over.” Romeo scoffed. “Call your gay husband to take you home. I’ll handle your shit tomorrow.”
“I can’t call Lex. He took his students for a field-trip.”
“Then I guess you’d better have a cab guy too.”
Olivia whined, “If this is how you treat your best customers I’m taking my business elsewhere.”
“Best customer?” Disbelief in his voice, Romeo added, “Liv, you’ve still got your tab from last year.”
Olivia pleaded, “I’ll pay you. You know I’m good for it.”
“Rooomeo,” A woman trilled in the background.
“Damn, Lucinda, you looking good in that-”
“Romeo,” yelled Olivia. She couldn’t put it past those two freaks to start having sex with her right on the phone.
“My bad.” He laughed. “Tell you what, call Dez to pick you up then I’ll square with him later. I’ll pass by your offices tomorrow morning and pick up Nismo. That okay with you?”
Olivia sighed. “I don’t like dealing with Dez.”
“You’re out of options.” Romeo guffawed.
Grumbling under her breath, Olivia called Romeo’s cousin to come and get her. Fifteen minutes later, Dez pulled up in front of the building in a rickety Toyota. True to form, he hit on her the whole way home and even tried to finagle a ‘come up for coffee’ from her. By the time they got to her complex, she was so tired of him she exited his cab at the gates instead of letting him into their compound.
The things I have to deal with because of those tires. If she ever found out who’d messed up her car, there would be hell to pay. It was twenty minutes to nine when she stepped into her apartment. Assuming that Marcel was a late-comer like his friend, she decided to wash her gym clothes while she waited.
She was elbows deep in sudsy water when the buzzer echoed through the whole room. Quickly rinsing her hands, she made her way to the door. A quick glance at the wall clock as she went revealed that it was exactly eight fifty nine. Impressive. A smile on her face, she turned the doorknob. Pig jumped her the moment she pulled the door open, almost knocking her over with his weight.
“Hey, Piggy, happy to see me?” When she doubled over to tousle his brown fur, he swiped his rough tongue over her face leaving a trail of moisture. She laughed as she wiped her cheek. “I guess so.”
“Woof.”
“Leave the pretty lady alone, Pig.” Marcel drew her attention to him. Her pulse hopped at the sight of him. It should’ve been illegal for a shirt to look that good on a man. The denim shirt was open at the collar revealing the strong column of his throat and a little fitted over his muscular chest. Paired with black khaki slacks that clung to his powerfully built thighs and workman boots; he was the very definition of delicious.
While Pig scurried towards the TV where his favorite channel was already waiting for him, Olivia straightened to her full height. Raising her eyebrows at Marcel, she asked, “Did you call me pretty?”
He gave her a deadpan, “No.”
“You did, you did, you did,” she teased.
“You need to get your hearing checked, woman,” he said picking up two, blue, heavy shopping bags from the hallway. He hauled them into the apartment and set them on the floor next to her baseball bat.
Ignoring the dancing of her pulse at his arrival, she closed the door. “What do you have there?”
“Some food for Pig and a couple of his toys.”
“Aw, you didn’t have to. I have enough for him here.” She crouched to rifle through the bags filled with several packs of dog food. “This looks like enough to last a whole year.”
Marcel laughed. “Pig eats like a-”
“-pig,” she finished for him with a chuckle of her own as she rose to her feet.
Kicking off his shoes, he said, “Thank you for doing this for me.”
“Marcel Isaac saying thank you.” She lay her palm over her heart and gasped. “Am I in Neverla
nd?”
“You got a smart mouth, woman.” His gaze which had remained steady on hers up until now cruised slowly to her mouth and lingered there. “One day I’ll give it something to do other than rip into people.”
“What?” An odd shiver tingled down her spine at his words as erotic images of all the things she would gladly do to him with her mouth skittered through her mind.
He blinked. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Oh, he didn’t? Olivia felt like she was standing in a ring of fire with his amused gaze burning into her. He made a tsking noise and shook his head. “You have a nasty mind, Livy.”
“Whatever!” Rolling her eyes to mask her embarrassment, she turned away from him and started for the kitchen. “Have you eaten yet?”
“What you got?” His deep voice sounded behind her.
She stopped walking and swiveled to face him. “I was just asking – not offering to feed you.”
He gave her a horrified look. “Why would you ask me if I’m hungry if you don’t plan to give me food?”
“To pretend to be polite.” She shrugged. “To enjoy your hunger.”
“You’re not getting out of it that easily.”He grasped her wrist and led her out of the living room. “Let’s go.”
“Wait, you’re going to force me to cook for you?” Her breath hitched in breathless laughter as she struggled to keep up with his long strides.
“Yes.” His voice was as determined as his steps as he turned a left in the hallway.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Duh! The kitchen.”
“That’s not the way to the kitchen.” She chuckled. Snatching her wrist from his grasp, she turned to face him. “And if you want food, you’ll have to cough up some bills.”
“You want me to pay you to feed me?”
She wiggled her fingers. “That will be twenty for a plate, buddy.”
“Twenty? Even Gordon Ramsey doesn’t charge that much.”
“He doesn’t cook as well as I do,” she retorted. “Twenty dead presidents, Mr. Isaac.”
“You are so wrong for this.” Shaking his head, he removed his wallet from his back pocket. He extracted a twenty dollar bill from the leather wallet and slapped it on her palm. “So wrong.”