Page 9 of The Hacker
Regards,
Dawn
She had no idea if he would still be working at nine o’clock on a Tuesday, so she pointed the remote at the television in search of a light, fluffy rom-com. Her taste in programming surprised her friends, but she couldn’t deal with violence or shocks when she wanted to relax. No sooner had she gotten the menu up than an email appeared in her in-box.
An involuntary smile curled her lips, and she wiggled her butt to settle into the cushions so she could enjoy Leland’s message.
Aha! The nefarious data gobbler strikes again! I have theories but they will require proof. I think I need to join your gym.
L.
A shiver of excitement ran through her. Leland Rockwell wanted to join her local Jersey gym. But she hadn’t asked for his help, just his theory. Maybe he had misunderstood. She didn’t want to be embarrassed by turning down his high-level assistance for the second time.
My boss’s wife is supposed to be working on the problem. I was just curious as to what you thought might be causing it.
She hated to hit “send” but she pressed the key.
I’ll work undercover because I’m intrigued by the strange goings-on in Cofferwood. Does the gym have a pool, by any chance?
Excitement turned to intense anticipation. She would see him in person, not just email the man behind the computer screens.
Actually, it has a half Olympic-size pool because it used to be a college gym. Are you a swimmer?
That would explain how nicely he filled out his nerdy T-shirts.
I swim when I need to think. My membership application will be sent in by morning. Do you have any training time slots open this week? We can talk while I sweat.
He wanted her to train him? She had to remind herself to take a breath. And that was a problem. She needed to control her expectations. This was his job, even if he was doing it for free. It had nothing to do with her personally. She was helping out her boss by bringing in a consultant. That’s what Leland was: a consultant. They came into a business, they fixed a problem, and they departed. The latter was what she should keep in mind.
Besides, she barely knew the man, hadn’t thought anything—well, much—about him until they started emailing.
She switched screens to check her calendar and realized why Vicky was so happy with her productivity. It was very high because she liked to work and it allowed her to hang out in a clean, well-lit place surrounded by people she was familiar with and trusted. So her goals and Vicky’s aligned in this case.
She sent him back an email with a list of the limited times she had open.
I see you are very much in demand. I’ll take one open session every day, your choice of when. That will give us an opportunity to consult regularly.
Every day.Maybe that was good. It was surprising how much you learned about a person when you put them through rigorous physical exercise. People responded to the challenge in very different and revealing ways. She could get to know him well enough to find out she didn’t actually like him.
After confirming that he genuinely had no preference as to what time of day they worked out, she sent him back his training schedule and added:Do you want me to train you seriously or is this just a cover?
His response was:I always do things seriously.
She sucked in a breath, suddenly insecure about creating a program for someone like Leland. After all, he could afford the best of the best. For all she knew, he already had a personal trainer. She sat up straight and squared her shoulders. Just because she didn’t work at some fancy gym in Manhattan didn’t mean she should worry about her ability to supervise a rich guy’s fitness routine. Bodies behaved the same no matter how much or little money a person had.
We’ll talk about your goals at our first session.
When his response came back, it brought out her evil trainer’s smile.
That sounds ominous. Remember that I need to be able to walk when you’re done. Until tomorrow.
She typed back:You’ll be able to walk, but not without groaning.
She waited a moment to see if he had anything more to say, but no new email showed up. So she logged into her fitness-planning program. She was going to put together a routine that would test what he was made of.
Better to write him off sooner than later.
At nine forty-five the next morning, Leland stepped out of a limousine around a corner three blocks away from Work It Out. Arriving at the gym in a limo felt too conspicuous, but he didn’t want to give up the time that being chauffeured gave him to work on the trip from Manhattan to New Jersey. After all, he was playing hooky from the office.
