Page 99 of Bewitch

“There’s a few more ideas I have for healthy options, all heavy on protein,” I say. “I just need more time in the day.”

“Don’t we all,” Kelly says.

I glance around, trying to see if Lucas is heading this way to scold us for talking, but I can’t spot him anywhere.

“You know,” Pamela says, “you should try to sell the balls.”

“Sell them?”

“Oh, you would make a killing!” Kelly says. “Everyone is talking about them.”

“I don’t know,” I say slowly.

It’s not the thought of my mom not wanting me to have a job. I mean, baking and selling the goods isn’t a real job anyhow.

It’s more that I don’t know if I can do it consistently, and I hate the idea of starting something and then leaving people hanging.

“Hmm.” Pamela types on her keyboard. “Gary has an opening at… in an hour and fifteen minutes. Why don’t you train for your session with Craig—”

“Craig?” I blurt out, suppressing a groan.

“Yes,” Pamela says with a rueful smile.

“Lucas isn’t here again?” I ask even though the question isn’t necessary.

“No,” Pamela says, sounding a bit distracted as she types on her computer. “There. I have you booked in with a meeting with Gary.”

“And Gary is…”

“He’s the owner of the gym,” Kelly supplies. “A real nice guy.”

“You can talk to him about selling your baked goods here,” Pamela says.

“It seems like you two have strong-armed me into it,” I say.

I try to force them a smile, but my lips have definitely fallen to form a flat line as Craig approaches. “We should get started,” he says, his tone more than a bit disapproving.

I nod and follow him over to where he has me stretch. I’m even more distracted this workout. How am I supposed to have a business meeting when I have no plan at all for what I’m going to say to a man who owns the entire gym? A guy who could kick me out if he knew what I had done to one of his employees? To what I used to whisper to Lucas that certainly wasn’t appropriate at all?

As much as my mind is a mess, I’m smart about what weights I use for the various exercises Craig has me o through. I don’t overexert myself or push myself. Instead, I use lower weights and try to focus on perfecting my form all over again. He tends to correct me a lot more if my mind wanders, so I try to keep him happy so he’ll shut up.

Finally, when I’ve about had it, he announces I can start my cool down. Good. This shit is for the birds. I don’t want Craig as my trainer. If the option is Craig or no trainer, then I’m done. I’m sure there are some who would respond to his efforts, but I need to be motivated, and if all I want is to keep Craig quiet, well, that’s not going to work for me.

After my cool down stretches, I retreat to the back and shower. Just a quick one. I don’t want to risk being all smelly and gross for the meeting with Gary. Gah, this all is happening so fast, and I’m not even sure if I want this.

That’s a lie. I’ve always loved to bake, and who wouldn’t mind a little side money from it? But that’s all it will ever be. I’m not interested in slaving over a hot oven all day. I’m not going to open a bakery. I’m not going to a culinary school for a reason. Being a businesswoman just isn’t for me.

Besides, Gary might hate this idea, or he might want to have a large enough portion of the profits that it’s not worthwhile for me to do this at all.

I climb out of the shower and change into street clothes and make my way to the welcome desk. Pamela grins at me.

“Gary’s office is down that way. Third door on the left. Knock if the door is shut.”

“Thanks, Pamela.”

“Good luck!”

I wave and try to look more confident than I feel. Honestly, I hope I don’t look like a hot mess. Back in grade school, a bully told me that I look like a drowned rat one time after I came inside from the pouring rain.

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