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I shake my head. “Came to get a smoothie before heading to work.”
She nods. “I really appreciate you stepping in.”
My chest swells until it feels like it’s puffed out for all to see.
“You like working at the bakery with Quinn?” I ask, hoping to learn more about the girl that’s managed to capture all my interest.
Finlay shrugs. “It’s something to do until I figure out what I want to do with my life.”
“Going professional in the music industry is not an option?” When I glance down at her, our eyes lock for a magical moment.
She lets out a burst of laughter. “Yeah, I don’t know about going professional. I was thinking more along the lines of opening a store or resuming private piano and guitar lessons.”
“Is that what you did back in Chicago? The private lessons?”
Her features tighten like I struck a nerve, and before she can answer the question, we step into the bakery.
A wide grin spreads over Quinn’s face when she spots us. “Hey, Ethan. Here for a cupcake? I’ve just baked a fresh bunch of super cute elf ones.”
I shake my head. “Thanks, but I just walked Finlay to the store.”
Finlay moves behind the counter, handing Quinn her vanilla latte.
When I take a step toward the door, she calls out, “Thanks again.”
Giving her the warmest smile I can conjure to my face, I head out and jog toward the health store.
Another win.
Finlay felt safe with me.
Friendship is really starting to look like an actual possibility at this point. And who knows, maybe there can be more between us down the road.
Way down the road.
Paying for the smoothie, I walk the distance to the gym, taking in all the Christmas decorations up around the main street. By the time I walk through the doors, my muscles are warm and ready for a day of training sessions.
“Oooh… something’s put a smile on your face. Spill,” Barb says, curiosity written all over her face.
“Wouldn’t you love to know?” I tease her as I stop at the counter to check everyone’s schedules.
“Don’t make me wait. I’m dying.”
Lifting my eyes to Barb, I can’t keep the smile on my face from growing. “Training with Finlay’s going really well.”
“Just training?” Barb wags her eyebrows at me.
“Yeah, just training.”
“Oh boo.” She slumps back. “Here I was hoping to hear something juicy.”
“Says the one who’s living with her crush. If anyone has something juicy to share, it’s you,” I tease her.
Barb’s cheeks flame up. “Hush. I don’t want other people hearing.”
Her smile instantly drops from her face, and it has me glancing over my shoulder. Seeing Chelsea coming into the gym, my stomach tightens.
“I’ve got this,” Barb whispers.
“Thanks, B.” I square my shoulders, and moving to the side of the counter, I focus on the schedules.
Chelsea’s overwhelming perfume invades my space, making my muscles tense as my guard goes up.
“Afternoon,” she drawls, “I’d like a new trainer. Preferably male.”
“Oh shoot. We only have Sydney available, but she’s one of our best. She’ll whip you into shape in no time,” Barb says with an overly sweet tone.
“I am in shape,” Chelsea snaps at Barb, then she lets out an aggravated huff. “Ridiculous service. I’d ask to talk to the manager, but it seems you have children running this place.”
“Should I call the owner for you?” Barb asks, her tone still sweet as pie.
“Yes. I’ve had it with the poor service.”
Barb picks up the handpiece of the phone and dials a number. “Chelsea has a complaint. Would you mind coming in?”
She probably called Carl, and luckily he knows what happened, so I know he’ll handle the problem. Handing the schedules back to Barb, I give her a thankful smile. “Call me if you need me.”
“Oh no, you’re not going anywhere, Mr. Jackson,” Chelsea bites out.
I move in behind the counter and grab the chair next to Barb. “While we’re waiting, want to show me how the spreadsheets for the schedules are coming along?”
“Sure.” Barb rolls her chair closer to the computer, and we both huddle around the screen.
There’s a mischievous grin plastered on Barb’s face, and five minutes later, I see why as Dad walks into the gym.
“Chelsea,” he says, his features cut from steel. “You wanted to see me?”
She does a double-take, her mouth gaping open. “You’re the owner? When did this happen? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“I wasn’t aware I had to report my business dealings to you,” Dad mutters as he stops right in front of her. “Would you like to go to an office where it will be more private?”
She quickly shakes her head, all her bravery gone now that she has to face off with Dad. People find him intimidating when he’s smiling, so when he’s upset, they tread carefully around him. Especially after he killed one of Quinn’s attackers.
It’s not that I’m hiding behind Dad. I just know the second I stand up for myself, things can turn real ugly fast. People tend to believe a man can’t be harassed or abused because we’re generally physically stronger.
