Page 31 of Madam, May I

She arched a brow. “You’re free to go. The gym is on the third floor. You can use one of my guest passes. But I’m docking your gym time from your pay. I’m not paying you to work out, little boy.”

“Not my gym time. Yours.”

Desdemona looked disapproving. “Make it make sense, Loren,” she said.

“You’re getting bored and yawning. I thought a little run on the treadmill would wake you up so we can stay focused on getting you ready for your GED test,” he explained, crossing the room.

“I’m focused,” she said.

He quickly reached out and snatched her workbook from her lap. “What did you just read about?” he asked.

I don’t know.

“Exactly,” he said at her continued silence.

She gave him a begrudging smile before she rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I have a treadmill in one of my extra bedrooms,” she said. “No need for the gym.”

Loren’s eyes shifted down the length of the hall to the other half of the apartment before resting back on her where she sat on the sofa. “You’re going to trust me in another part of this huge place besides the living area and the guest bathroom?” he asked, his voice amused and falsely shocked.

“I’m not worried about you, young man,” she said, giving him a full smile as her eyes twinkled with mischief.

Loren held out his hands. “Finally,” he said. “I did notice you finally stopped carrying that little stick.”

As Desdemona rose to her feet, she quickly dipped her hand inside the top of the dress and withdrew her retractable baton from beneath her left breast. “It’s always around even if you don’t see it . . . and it’s not that little,” she said, flicking her wrist to extend it to its full length with a snap.

Loren’s eyes widened comically behind his glasses. “So, I haveeveryright to be slightly offended because I would never do anything to make a woman feel unsafe. Definitely down for the #MeToo movement,” he said, making a power fist.

Desdemona scratched her brow and closed her eyes as she laughed a little.

“But I have lots of women in my life that I care about—girlfriend, family, and friends—and I’m okay with y’all feeling protected. Some of my brethren are knuckleheads,” he continued. “ButI’mnot.”

She retracted the baton and tossed it onto the sofa. “Don’t worry, kid,” she said, walking past him to the hall. “I don’t even need it to beat you.”

“That’s insulting,” he said dryly from behind her.

She glanced back at him over her shoulder. “My apologies, Loren,” she said, teasing him by sounding as if she hardly meant it.

“Let’s see who can run the longest,” he said.

Desdemona fully turned to face him, leaning against the hallway wall. “A challenge. Interesting. What’s to win?”

“If you beat me I will give you two free hours of tutoring,” he offered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And on the slim chance you beat me?”

“You pay me double for two extra sessions,” he offered.

Desdemona squinted at him. “Either way I get two extra sessions,” she said.

“Exactly. It’s a win-win for you because it’s my job to push you as hard as I can to reach your goal,” he said. “It’s my job to help you be the best you can be. You deserve it.”

“Why do I deserve it?”

He frowned in disbelief. “Whydon’tyou?”

“Find the good in everything, huh?” she asked.

“I see the good in you.”

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