Flirting with the Boss: A love at the Gym Novel

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Flirting with the Boss: A love at the Gym Novel Page 2

by Sparling, Amy


  Janie looks at the bread, peanut butter, and jelly on the counter and curls her lip.

  “PB&J again?” she says with a groan that’s basically her catch phrase. The girl grumbles and complains about everything. I mean, I know I was a moody teenager but her moodiness is off the charts.

  “You don’t have to eat one,” I say. “There’s frozen pizza and stuff to eat instead.”

  “Ugh.”

  I set my knife on my plate and put the jar of peanut butter down. “What do you want to eat then?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. Food.”

  “This is food.”

  She rolls her eyes and turns around, walking right back into her room. My old room, that was all mine before I became her guardian. She closes the door harder than necessary and now I’m the one to let out a groan. I don’t even know what to do with this kid. I know her life has been crappy lately, but so has mine. This last year, in particular, has been a nightmare.

  My boyfriend dumped me right around the time I thought he was going to propose, I ran out of money for college and never finished my last semester, and then my sister went to jail and I got stuck with her kid. Life isn’t easy. I feel like shouting that at Janie’s closed bedroom door. I’m doing my best, but nothing pleases that kid.

  I can’t even finish my sandwich, despite being hungry a few minutes ago. Now I’m just feeling pulled thin, all my stresses piling on top of me and making me feel weak, exhausted. I’m not a parent. My own parents were old when they had me, and they’re both gone now. Mom passed from colon cancer and Dad passed a few months later. They were both in their late sixties and left me alone, as a college student. My grandma is gone, too. It’s just me and Janie, and I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t want to fail her, but I feel like I already have.

  It’s just after ten at night when her bedroom door opens again. I’m lying on the couch which doubles as my bed, and I glance over at her. She slowly walks to the kitchen and makes herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Then she stands at the counter and eats it, her gaze on the television. When she’s finished, she walks into our small apartment living room. I move my feet and she sits down next to me.

  “Sorry,” she says, her eyes on the television. “I didn’t mean to be a jerk.”

  “I’m sorry too,” I say, sitting up and snuggling my blanket up to my shoulders. “I need to get better food. I’ll do that soon.”

  “It’s okay,” she says. “I never had good food with my mom, either.”

  “That only makes me feel worse,” I say. I reach out and touch her arm and try to give her a smile, even though I’m not sure what good a smile will do. “I have good news,” I say. Maybe this will be better than a smile.

  “Oh yeah?” She doesn’t seem too surprised, and I guess I can’t blame her.

  “Well… I have maybe good news. I don’t know for sure yet.”

  She lifts an eyebrow in anticipation.

  “I had a job interview today for a part time thing that I could do after my day job. It would pay enough money for us to get a two bedroom apartment. They want me to come back tomorrow for a second interview.”

  “Cool,” she says. “But do you think you can work two jobs?”

  “I’m young,” I say with a touch of defensiveness in my voice. “Of course I can.”

  Her lips press together and she looks back at the TV. “I wish I could find a job. No one wants to hire me. At least nowhere that’s close enough to walk to.”

  “You don’t need to worry about a job. Just worry about school.”

  No one can blame Janie for her bad grades this year. She lost her mom to the prison system and had to move in with me. Her grades suck. But if she doesn’t get them up soon, she’ll have to repeat her sophomore year, and that’s not okay. I’d rather her focus on school than trying to find some minimum wage job that will only stress her out more than it helps us financially.

  “I don’t care about school,” she says while she plays with the hem of my blanket.

  “Well, what do you care about?”

  She shrugs one shoulder. “I care about Cody in my history class.”

  I throw a pillow at her. “Boys are stupid. You shouldn’t think about them at all.”

  She laughs. “Boys are not stupid. I mean, some of them are but I don’t care. I want Cody to ask me out.”

  I shake my head at her silly teenage ways.

  “Don’t give me that,” she says, throwing the pillow back at me. “You can’t tell me you’d ignore some hot guy if he walked up and asked you on a date.”

  “That’s a situation that will never happen,” I say dryly.

  She scoffs. “Yes it will! You’re pretty! Guys like you.”

  I turn the volume up on the television. The heartache of getting dumped last year is still heavy on my chest, making me feel unlikable in about a million different ways. “This conversation is over.”

  “That’s because you know I’m right,” she says with all the annoying drama of a teenager. “If a hot guy asked you out, you’d totally go out with him.”

  “Conversation over!” I say again.

  “Because I’m riiiight,” she sing-songs.

  And… maybe she’s onto something.

  3

  Noah

  Jon comes back at ten the next morning for his second interview. Brent and Kris agree with me that he seems great, and we offer him the job. He’s about to graduate college and then will keep working here while getting his master’s degree, so he’ll be around for a few years which is great. After the interview, Kris offers to show him around the gym, and Brent stays in my office, leaning against my filing cabinet.

  “So when is the other person coming in for a second interview?” he asks.

  “Around four,” I say, glancing at Tasha’s resume which is still on my desk. “Here’s her resume if you want to look over it.”

  He takes the paper and skims over it, but it doesn’t look like he’s paying much attention. “If you like her, I’ll like her,” he says, dropping the paper back.

  “I don’t like her,” I say quickly. Way too quickly. Oh, crap.

  Brent lifts an eyebrow. “You don’t? Then why are we interviewing her?”

  “I mean, that’s not what I meant.” My words come out all jumbled and idiotic. It takes Brent about two seconds to realize what’s going on. His eyes widen and then a sly smirk spreads across his lips.

  “You like her. You like her.”

  I shake my head in an adamant no. “I think she’ll make a great employee. She’s friendly and eager to work, and the evening hours are great for her…”

  “No, you like her.” Brent chuckles as if he’s got it all figured out. I’ve never seen him look so arrogant before, and I know exactly why. It’s because a few months ago, he fell in love with one of his clients, a woman named Dani, who I told him he shouldn’t date because it’s a conflict of interest. I’m the main boss of this place, and I couldn’t have my co-owner hitting on a client and getting us sued. I was pretty insistent that he not date her, but when it turned out Dani liked him too, I gave in and was happy for him.

  But if a client is a conflict of interest, I don’t even want to think about how bad dating an employee would be. I am a huge hypocrite by even entertaining the idea of this silly crush on a woman I barely even know.

  Brent taps my filing cabinet in this arrogant, happy-go-lucky way, and then points a finger gun at me. “Good luck with that,” he says with a chuckle. “Crushing on someone you can’t date is not fun.”

  “I am not crushing on her,” I say, probably a little louder than I should. I’ve never been too good at acting, and hiding my true feelings around my best friend is even harder. He sees right throught me. That’s what all those years as college roommates will do.

  “Sure, buddy,” Brent says, still laughing and shaking his head as he leaves my office. Alone again, I heave a sigh and drop my head to my desk. This is not good.

  I’ll have t
o work hard at making it seem like I don’t like this girl, especially in front of Brent. He will never let me live it down if he thinks I’m falling into the same predicament he was in a few months ago. Just because it worked out for him and Dani doesn’t mean anything would work out for me. Tasha is gorgeous, smart, and capable. She’s probably got a dozen men with six figure careers just waiting around begging to date her. If she’s not already dating one of them.

  I don’t leave my office for the next few hours and I’m hoping Brent will forget about this morning’s incident by the time Tasha comes in for her interview. By three forty-five though, Brent walks into my office and drops into the chair across from my desk and wiggles his eyebrows.

  “Excited to see your girlfriend?” He says it in a lighthearted way, but it still annoys me.

  “You are the most immature adult human I know.”

  He rolls his eyes. “She just got here. She’s talking to Kris up front. I figured I’d come warn you so you can get that swoony grin off your face.”

  I school my face into apathy. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t actually grinning just now, but Brent has a pretty good poker face, so now I’m second guessing everything. And my heart is beating faster because I know she’s here.

  I tell myself to pull it together.

  Soon, Kris walks Tasha into my office and he and Brent welcome her to Roca Springs Fitness. They’re acting just like they did when Jon was here earlier, because they’re decent people who don’t crush on the interviewee.

  Now that we’re in official interview mode, my nerves fade away and I give her the same talk I had with Jon earlier today. I think I do a pretty good job of acting like a normal boss, and Brent doesn’t seem to be judging me, so hopefully I am. We ask some generic questions, and Kris and Brent go over what they hope to achieve with having another person added to our team.

  Since Tasha would be working the night shift, Kris talks more than we do because he also works the same shift.

  She’s dressed in another skirt and button up blouse outfit today, but her heels are bright red and match her lipstick. She’s so gorgeous it hurts. I don’t know how the other guys can hold it together in front of her. I mean, Brent, sure. He already has the love of his life. But Kris is known for flirting around and hitting on girls and he seems totally fine in front of Tasha. I guess he’s capable of being more professional than I am, which is kind of ironic given his personality. Everyone calls him the bad boy out of the three of us.

  Every time I try to talk, my words seem all wrong and stupid. Like just looking at her makes all rational thoughts fly out of my head. Deep down, the analytical and practical part of my personality is telling me to run. That I shouldn’t hire a woman I am physically attracted to, and I really shouldn’t hire someone whose personality is just as beautiful as she is. This is not good. This is not professional.

  But before long, I hear myself offering her the job.

  “We’d love to have you on our team,” I say.

  Tasha beams, her cheeks turning slightly pink. “Really? That would be amazing!”

  Brent reaches out and shakes her hand. “Can you start Monday?”

  “Absolutely,” she says with a nod. Kris shakes her hand next, and then I reach out my hand because it’s only polite that I also seal the deal with a professional handshake. But the moment her hand touches mine, a warmth spreads through my chest and it’s a little hard to breathe.

  “Thank you so very much,” Tasha says after she releases my hand. “I’m really looking forward to working here.”

  “Let’s go pick out shirts for you,” Kris says, standing up. He leads her out to the hallway where we have a closet filled with Roca Springs Fitness shirts. It’s definitely best if Kris handles all the work of getting her situated in the job, since he’ll be working night shift with her. The shift difference is a good idea—she’ll be working evenings and I’ll be working days and maybe I won’t have to see her at all. My crush will fade and I won’t have to worry about anything. Plus, the gym will finally have two new employees to help us with our workload and make the business better than ever.

  This will work out.

  This is totally fine.

  * * *

  I clock out right at five, even though I usually stay later because it’s my business and I like being there. But I’m weirdly unable to stop thinking about Tasha, and it’s wearing on me. I can’t like this girl. I need to move on.

  So I go home. And that’s probably not the best idea, because my house is a mess. The moment I walk in my front door, my two dogs, Sirius and GG, crash into me, their tails wagging. They’re brother and sister, and are both chocolate labs with so much energy their happy wagging tails could probably power a small country if I hooked them up to a generator.

  I actually bought this house for the dogs. I was fine living in my small apartment after graduation, but then I found Sirius and GG on the side of the road, maybe a few weeks old, and I took them home. They quickly grew to be way too big for my apartment and I decided to buy them a house. This three bedroom brick home is more than enough space for us, and to be honest, it feels overwhelmingly big at times. I have a few acres of land, and love spending time on my back porch around the firepit. But being inside always brings me down lately. It’s just too much space. Too many reminders that I am alone.

  The dogs have dumped out their bucket of dog toys, and ripped a couple of them apart in my living room. I don’t mind the mess of stuffing and fabric everywhere, because at least they’re good enough dogs to only destroy their own toys and not destroy stuff around the house.

  I head into the kitchen and make a sandwich, because I’m too lazy to cook. My dad is a professional chef who taught me all of his tricks when I was a kid, so I’m a pretty good cook myself. But cooking for one person isn’t fun. It’s actually harder to portion out just one meal instead of making a larger meal for a family. And a family is something I don’t have here.

  I’m from New Mexico, and all of my family is still there. I moved down to Texas for college, met Brent and Kris, and stayed after graduation. The guys are great. And my dogs are great. And my job is great.

  But as I sit down on my couch and turn on the television, my dogs eagerly watching me eat this boring sandwich, I know there’s something missing from my life.

  And I know exactly what it is, that missing piece, the part of my life I’m desperate to have.

  But I’m not sure when I’ll find it.

  4

  Tasha

  I am unable to stop smiling on the drive home. I got the job! Six extra hours of paid work a day. This is going to help so much. I dance along to the pop music on my car radio while I drive, and I feel so light and happy. Happier than I’ve felt in a while. Happier than I’ve been since my boyfriend left me. Since I had to quit college. Since Janie moved in with me. This is a good day. Things will start looking up now.

  As soon as I park at my apartment complex, I take out my phone and look up my bank account balance. I’m fairly broke, but there’s enough money in there to celebrate tonight. I’ll just make up for the off budget expense with my first paycheck from Roca Springs Fitness.

  I scoop up all my new work shirts and head to my apartment, still grinning like a fool. But I don’t care if I look silly. This is a good day.

  “Guess what?” I sing-song loudly as I step into the living room. Janie is sitting on the kitchen counter, legs crossed, textbook in her lap.

  I don’t really like her shoes on the countertop, but at least she’s studying for school, so I don’t gripe at her.

  “What?” she says, not looking up from her book.

  “How busy are you?” I ask, tossing my new shirts on the couch.

  “I’m almost finished. Just have to read this chapter tonight for a quiz tomorrow.”

  “Well…can that wait a second?” I ask. She should know something is up because I never ask her to set aside homework. In fact, it’s rare that she’s actually doing homework and on any oth
er day, I’d beg her to keep doing it.

  She looks up, a curious expression on her face. “Everything okay?”

  I burst into a grin. “Everything is more than okay. Get dressed. I’m taking us out to dinner.”

  Janie’s face crinkles in confusion. “What?”

  “You heard me,” I say, walking past her to the dresser where I keep all my clothes. It’s next to the television since the living room is also my bedroom. “Get dressed. We’re not getting fast food. We’re getting real food. Maybe steak. Maybe seafood? Italian? Mexican? What are you in the mood for?”

  “Are you serious?” she shrieks, and now she’s smiling. “Are you seriously serious? We’re getting real food?”

  I nod. “I’m as serious as the paycheck I’ll get next week after starting my new job.”

  “You got the job?” Janie jumps off the counter and throws her arms around me in a tight hug. I suddenly feel even better. I like that she’s proud of me. I like that I’m finally doing something right. I’m stepping up and I’m taking care of us. I’m actually pulling it off.

  “I got the job,” I say against her hair as we stand here, hugging and swaying back and forth. “And we’re going to celebrate with a really nice dinner.”

  “Oh my gosh,” she says, bouncing on her toes. “Food! Let’s do Italian?”

  “Perfect,” I say. “And then ice cream for dessert.”

  “Mmmm,” Janie says, putting both hands over her heart. “Ice cream. Pasta. This is the best day.”

  “Maybe I’ll even have a glass of wine,” I say, tilting my head at the possibility. “And maybe I’ll let you have a sip of it.”

  She grins. “I’ll go get dressed.”

  While we’re getting ready for dinner, I list off all the things this job will help me achieve. My full time job at the school is enough to pay the normal bills—rent, electricity, car payment, food, etc, but this new job will be for the extras. A bigger apartment. Student loans. Doctor visits and new clothes. Maybe even a new phone for Janie, who has been using an extremely old cell phone with a cracked screen for three years now. This new job can take us from just barely surviving to living a life that’s worth waking up for each day.

 

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