Page 13 of Spinning Out Of Control

Not asleep, Keeks. Just ignoring you.

Kira has removed James from Sweat Mafia Group Chat

Sarah has added James to Sweat Mafia Group Chat

James

Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time ;)

It's going to be a long fucking day.

But as the Patron Saint of Sad Bad Bitches once said,

Lights, camera, bitch smile.

Dragging myself away from my bundle of blankets, I take a quick shower to rinse off the stench of my bed rotting. I don't bother washing my hair since I'll be sweating on the treadmill in a few hours. Later, before class, I’ll hit the wisps that frame my face with a curling iron and slick the rest back with some sparkly gel that will pop on camera. For now, a low bun and some mascara and lip gloss is more than enough effort for a meeting with Jonathan.

I open my drawers and pull out a pair of black compression shorts and a white sports bra thatcrisscrosses over my breasts and gives me some cleavage that looks amazing on camera, especially when I highlight my small boobs with a little bronzer before going on.

I throw an oversized lavender hoodie overtop and lace up a matching pair of Nike running shoes. The hoodie will be long gone before the cameras go on in the studio, but between the foggy San Francisco morning and the AC that's always blasting in the building, it's a necessary layer for now.

The Spin Sync building is located in the heart of the city on Market Street in The Castro neighborhood. A historically gay neighborhood, The Castro is home to some of San Francisco's most prominent activists in the past and present, as well as beautiful infrastructure and nature alike. The vibes are immaculate since the surrounding blocks are always bursting with rainbows, from flags to signs in shop windows to the paint on the streets and sidewalks.

The neighborhood also houses its fair share of nudists, so it's not out of the norm that I saw two penises on my twenty-minute walk. That’s par for the course on this block. Even though I don’t particularly love the view of old man balls as the sun rises, I appreciate peoples’ ability to become one with nature.

The front of the building boasts an electronic wall that shows a rotating slideshow of instructor photos and videos throughout the day, and this morning I'm met with a fifty-foot shot of myself doing burpees in anavy-blue leggings and white bra combo. Nine times out of ten, I get incredibly excited and squeaky when I catch myself up on the screen. Something about seeing yourself looking larger than life really strokes the ego in a very soothing way, but I am not in the mood today. I duck my head, keeping it low so I don't have to converse with my coworkers until absolutely necessary.

Since I have some time before my meeting with Jonathan, I decide to help myself to something from the lobby cafe. It was my idea to provide complimentary light meals and smoothies to both students and employees when we moved into this building two years ago. Jonathan fought me tooth and nail because of the added cost, but I won out, and the cafe is a hit with everyone who steps through our doors.

Opting for a green juice and a whole wheat everything bagel, I'm smothering my carbs in veggie cream cheese when an annoying presence grabs my shoulders from behind.

“Keeks!” James singsongs my name as he shakes my shoulder. Decked out in Spin Sync-branded gear with a backpack hanging from his shoulder and backwards baseball cap on his head, he looks like a frat boy on the first day of school.

“You are not the Adler I wanted to see this early in the morning. Where is your wife?”

“Georgie is at home. She’ll be in later for my upper body strength class,” he says, bouncing away on the balls of his feet.

"You have too much fucking energy," I say around the bagel in my mouth, not caring if I accidentally spit half-chewed food all over him.

"Hell yeah, I do. I had three shots of espresso and two orgasms already this morning and I am fucking pumped!" He strikes a strong man pose, and I choke on a gag.

"Gross. Keep that information to yourself. I know your last job title was 'Pervert-CEO-slash-Assistant-Fucker', but I can assure you, no one here is interested in your penis's extracurricular activities." It’s a low-brow tease, since Georgie was working as James’ assistant when they met, but it’s all I can muster right now. As I try to push past him, he leans down and takes an enormous bite of my bagel, then winks at me. I glare back at him.

“James, you’re a fucking billionaire. Don’t you have better things to do than annoying me, like buying football teams or hunting humans on a private island for sport?”

"I have nothing better to do because believe it or not, I’ve never had the urge to hunt an animal, let alone another human. Though buying a football team sounds like something I’d love, I live to annoy you. Being your coworker is so much fun," he whispers loudly, and I smile despite myself. I love having him around. It was my idea that he join us at Spin Sync.

When we first met, he was burnt out and unfulfilled in his role as CEO in the tech company he'd help start adecade ago. Given his goofy nature, outgoing personality and passion for fitness, I knew he'd make a fantastic instructor. James is a natural performer. His charisma and charm can captivate a room, and he’s got the kind of body meathead gym bros strive for. I didn't think he'd take me seriously when I'd suggested it, but I'm glad he did. I like my coworkers. I consider most of them friends, but it's great to have someone I'm genuinely close with around all the time.

“What are you doing here so early, anyway? I thought you switched to a later time slot?” he asks as we push through the ‘Employees Only’ door. I push the button to the elevator that will take him to the locker rooms and me to the executive suites.

“I’ve got a meeting,” I say with a nonchalant shrug. I haven’t told anyone about my suspicions. I haven’t wanted to jinx myself.

Jonathan and I met when I was still a student at UCLA. He was teaching at a boutique gym that I’d been taking shadow boxing classes at for weeks. I thought he was hot. I’ve always been into older guys–as I made obvious on Georgie’s wedding night, a little salt and pepper in the hair is my kryptonite–and Jonathan has a good eight years on me. I signed up for private lessons that I didn’t need in order to get closer to him. I flirted, he flirted, and eventually we fell into bed together.

I was young and naïve. I wasn’t dumb enough to think that Jonathan and I were soulmates that were bound to go the distance, but I was stupid enough togive too much of myself away during some pillow talk one night.

I’d told him all about my grand idea for a fitness platform where people have the option to come into a studio and workout with other people or stay home and stream the class, giving them a group experience with no need to leave their house. I showed him the crappy sketches I’d done of stationary bikes and treadmills with large tablets attached. I told him how I imagined the whole thing as a ‘Netflix meets Jane Fonda meets Boutique Fitness’ and that once I graduated from college and gained access to my trust fund, I was going to make it happen.

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