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“Did you have to get down on your knees while begging?” Aria winks.
“Hardy har,” I curl my lip at her. “He spent the first several days trying to get me to quit but it’s been better lately. I hope he’s given it up. When he’s not insistent on being a complete jerk, he’s actually pretty tolerable.”
“I bet he is.”
“It’s not like that at all and you know it. I’m not going to screw this job up. I can’t,” I shake my head and set my laptop down on the kitchen counter so I can still see Aria while I make my first official cup of tea.
“Have you heard from your parents or David?” Aria asks, yawning and rubbing her eyes.
“My mom texted me a news article a woman from the club sent her about a Melbourne climate change protest that was scheduled so I could avoid the ‘riff-raff.’ I didn’t respond, obviously. I talked to David for a few minutes,” I sigh.
“And how is he handling this?” She asks, picking up on the change in my tone as I drop an English Grey tea bag into the white porcelain teacup my flat came equipped with.
“I think I need to end it, Aria.” I plop down on a barstool at my tiny kitchen counter and prop my head upon my elbow. “I thought about it the whole flight home, which is a very long time, let me tell you.”
“And?”
“I just… he never called once. When I finally reached him, all he wanted to talk about was Cooper Media and how he and Dad are fighting with them, their stupid publisher rivalry, the same tired conversation. I started to tell him that Ms. Alix in Marketing here was really happy with my work and that I was proud of myself and he blew me off, told me ‘that’s nice’ and went right back into the latest Cooper Media nonsense.”
“He’s a self-absorbed twat.” Aria nods. She’s told me this a thousand times, of course.
“This is a new start for me, you know? I need to focus on work and build something for myself, do something that makes me happy. And he just doesn’t make me happy.” I feel more alive arguing with Lennox, for god sake. My kettle on the stove starts to whistle and I stand up to turn it off, steam clouding the Skype session as I pour the boiling water and christen my first cup of Earl Grey.
“Your parents are going to go through the roof,” Aria says.
“I know but if I do this now, at least I won’t be home for them to make me miserable.” I gave this a lot of thought and this really has been a long time coming.
“So what are you going to do, call him?”
“No, I should come home and tell him in person. I owe him that much. He isn’t a monster, this just isn’t working. I think I can swing a quick trip home after the next race.” There won’t be anything quick about the flying time from London to Bahrain in the Gulf, to New York, then to China in time for the next race, though. I don’t know how everyone does it. It probably helps that Lennox, Matty, and Jack fly first class and I’m in the cattle pen section of economy. I make a mental note to sign up for frequent flyer programs so I can at least rack up points.
Aria and I chat for an hour and two cups of Earl Grey before she needs to head out to an appointment with a new personal training client she’s signed up. Disconnecting, I was thinking about taking a stroll around the Celeritas grounds, but I hear a rumble in the hallway outside of my front door. Maybe I’m not the only one knocking around in this old building?
Prancing to the front door I peer out the peephole and see Lennox fiddling with his key at his door then kicking it open with his foot and shoving his large suitcase in before the door closes behind him. He has no media or events scheduled during this break between races and I only have a few meetings scheduled with the Marketing Team so it should be a little downtime for us. If Lennox cooperates and doesn’t go on a bender making headlines we don’t need, that is.
I can’t deny the butterflies flapping in my gut at the thought that he’s living right across the hall from me again. It was weird enough in the Melbourne hotel after I had to move so my room could be fumigated for bugs and the hotel stuck me right across from Lennox. Then again, it is comforting not to be alone in this old creaky building by myself in case Jack the Ripper is on the loose. This is certainly not New York where I’m surrounded by millions of people at all times.
Thirty minutes later, I hear his door open again. The building is old and has thin walls, apparently, which is not a good thing for sleep but it is a good thing for keeping tabs on him to make sure he doesn’t do anything to get us both into trouble. That’s definitely what I’m on the watch for as I race silently to my front door again and catch him exiting just in time, in gym shorts and a grey tank top that exposes his rugged shoulders and sculpted biceps.
Definitely not club apparel, we should be safe. Still, it is my job to prevent paparazzi slip-ups or media snafus so I should probably see what he’s up to. In the interest of my job.
I throw on my favorite black leggings and a casual but cute off the shoulder tee and grab a hoodie I’ve unpacked because it’s still cool in the evenings and the sun is almost down now. There’s nothing to be done about my bedhead but a high ponytail and a coating of ruddy peach lipgloss cleans me up a little bit.
Outside, landscaping lights line the cobblestone sidewalks and they flicker to life as it grows darker. Security buzzes past me in a golf cart and gives me a friendly wave as I make my way toward the factory and office buildings off in the distance. Magenta and deep purple azaleas are thoughtfully landscaped along the paths weaving throughout campus and with administration personnel gone for the day, it’s quiet and peaceful and downright romantic. I stuff my hands into my hoodie pockets and stroll on, grinning inside. It’s everything I dared to dream of when I left New York and with Sandra pleased and Lennox relatively harmonious, in his own way, everything is right on track.
The administration building is up ahead and as I grow closer I can hear music and bass thumping insid
e, interrupting the solitude and silence of the grounds. They keycard in my pocket buzzes me in the door of the building that’s closed for the night and dark save safety exit lighting. I recognize this building from my first day with Sandra and the music is growing louder as I reach the gym door.
Peeking in, the music blasts me as the door cracks. AC/DC is thumping out It’s a Long Way to the Top (If You Wanna ‘Rock n’ Roll) at ear-piercing decibels. They were from Australia if memory serves, and Lennox’s music choice makes me grin as I sneak in. He’s alone in the gym with his back to me pulling cables through a strength training machine that’s lifting and dropping heavy iron weights with every tug and release of the handles.
His grey tank has a band of sweat down the middle and I’m mesmerized watching his shoulders clench together over and over as I prowl into the room and take a seat on a weight bench behind him, watching like a total creeper. Thick black lines of a back tattoo peek out from under his shirt sleeves as he flexes. This is the best free entertainment the UK has to offer, I’m sure of it.
“See anything you like?” He calls with his back still to me. My eyes had moved down to his tight ass in those gym shorts but his voice booming over the music startles me and I look up and catch him looking at me in a mirror in front of his machine. Damn gym mirrors, why do they even exist? No one looks good at the gym, sweating, and puffing.
No one except people built like Lennox Gibbes.
He snatches a white towel hanging from his machine and wipes off his face and forehead before reaching for a remote nearby and turning the volume of the stereo down. I’m sure my face is flushed as I sit here with my legs crossed, obviously ogling the man before me. But he’s hot and he knows it, so pretending I have only pure thoughts in my head right now is only going to make me look more ridiculous.
