“Sure,” he says, then gives me a quick glance. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

I almost curse under my breath as I watch him go. Roxanne stays close to him, constantly smiling and leaning into him. Once he sets the weights on, she bends over to grip the barbell properly, and I see Marius’s gaze slipping down to her behind. I know he’s only making sure her form is right, but it’s pissing me off big time.

By the time he’s back, I’m practically seething and barely able to speak. I’ve finished my fourth set, and we move over to the Bulgarian split squat section of my training. The more minutes pass, the harder it is for me to focus. It has a negative impact on my motions, too, and I keep losing my balance to the point where Marius takes the dumbbell away and makes me do the simple version.

It’s almost insulting, considering I’ve made considerable progress in this section. My ego bleeds but I can’t contradict him, either. My mind is clearly a mess.

“What are you doing later tonight?” he asks me when the session is over.

“I’m not sure,” I reply dryly, glancing at the treadmill. I could use a few steps on that, if only to soothe my frayed nerves. “Maybe you should see what Roxanne’s doing.”

Marius stares at me with a mixture of confusion and disbelief. “What did you just say?” His voice is low, almost a whisper.

“Never mind. I’m gonna go hit the treadmill.”

“Shay, hold on.”

“No,” I snap and walk away.

It’s a terrible decision, and I know it. But after what Roxanne has been doing, I wish Marius had been slightly more proactive in pushing her away.

Jax let Alice get too close, and now Marius is doing the same with his ex-girlfriend, of all people. I feel disrespected and downright neglected. I’m worried this will go downhill—our relationship, our business, even our friendship. I’m worried Chappaqua was a terrible mistake and this is merely the beginning of a rather steep price to be paid.

I sense Marius’s gaze locked on the back of my neck, but I refuse to look at him as I jump on the treadmill and start a fast walking pace. Getting my heart rate up, I put the headphones on just to make sure I’m not disturbed while I try to gather my senses. Roxanne got to me. Yesterday, Alice unknowingly did the same.

I’m supposed to be thicker-skinned about these things. Where did my confidence go? Why do I feel like the odd one left on the outside and looking in, where just a few weeks ago I had three men making mad love to me? Upstate New York was a frickin’ fairy tale, whereas Seattle seems to be the splash of cold water I never asked for.

17

Shay

Despite our business-related disagreements, Richard has been an emotional comfort lately. I’m at his place for the weekend, starting with a Friday night dinner in his den overlooking the park. It snowed, so all I see is a blanket of white covering the evergreen bushes along the wrought iron fences. The sky is almost black on this side of town, where there’s barely enough streetlight to muddle the stars.

Richard’s house is a two-level villa wedged between a couple of colonial-style properties. Unlike his neighbors, however, he opted for a simpler and minimalist design. The backyard is humongous, complete with a pool and a basketball court, though neither are in use over the winter season. The interior is pretty and bright, with off-white walls and ash-colored hardwood flooring. Every storage space was custom-made to measure, making each cabinet seem like a natural extension of the house’s original structure.

The den was decorated to serve both as a more intimate dining room but also as a spacious breakfast room, with soft seating and plenty of red tartan cushions. The round table is huge, currently loaded with sushi plates and a couple of bottles of sake, though I’ve been partial to the iced tea and sparkling water pitchers tonight. Alcohol hasn’t been my thing for a while, particularly since I started working out. I may have had a few drinks during the Chappaqua break, but that was pretty much it. Lately, even the smell of it doesn’t tickle me like it used to.

“I’m not a fan of sushi, in general,” Richard says as helps himself to another tuna roll, “but I’m glad I went with your suggestion. You were right, Wasabi’s definitely know their stuff.”

“I’m glad you agree. Cassandra bought me lunch there once, and I’ve been in love with the place ever since,” I reply.

We sit naked under our fluffy white bathrobes enjoying a casual evening. The central heating keeps the place warm and cozy, and the wasabi paste only serves to spike our body temperature further. Soft jazz plays in the background, since Richard is adamant about creating a pleasant atmosphere when I’m around. I like that about him. He’s always so attentive and caring; I certainly enjoy being spoiled like this.

I lean into him as we work our way through the rest of the sushi platter, leaving nothing to waste. It feels nice to be with him, especially after the more difficult days I’ve had with Jax and Marius. Richard may have me on edge in terms of our business together, but on a personal level, he has been my rock and source of comfort.

“How’s your work coming along?” he asks me, then downs a shot of sake.

“New clients are always a handful,” I tell him. “Especially the ones who have a complicated relationship with food. They’re so hell-bent on demonizing entire group foods that as soon as I show them a meal plan, they get anxious and doubtful, convinced they’ve come to the wrong nutrition coach.”

He chuckles lightly. “How do you get them to stay?”

“I just point out the flaws in their judgment. Bread doesn’t make you fat. Eating a whole loaf for dinner does. Chocolate doesn’t make you fat. Eating a whole bag of Reese’s Mini-Peanut-Buttercups, however, may add to the scale. The same with fried chicken and French fries and Oreos and anything else they find on the menu that, according to them, doesn’t belong there.”

“Wait, you add Oreos and stuff into their diets?”

I nod and laugh, always amused by how shocked people are by my approach to nutrition. “The first step in getting someone to start eating healthier isn’t to completely cut out the foods that bring them comfort and even joy. They need to make sensible substitutions. Less processed foods. More fiber, in particular. It takes a while, but they get it.”

“And do they stick to it?”