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He nodded. “Totally agree. You better get out there and see what she wants.”
I puffed out a breath. “Can’t you tell her I’m not here?”
He chuckled. “I could, but I think your interview’s arrived.” He slanted his head towards the window as a young woman appeared. “She’s pretty too.” His eyebrow raised.
“They’re all fucking pretty.”
None compared to Manon, though.
Carson rose. “I’m sure there are lots of guys who’d love that problem. You better get out there. Don’t worry, she’s not about to eat you. She’s not a tiger.”
“No. More like a cougar.” I left him there grinning.
Kylie stood by the mirror. Body obsessed, she had a thing for staring at herself. Whenever we trained, she checked her arse or lifted her tits.
“Hey, Kylie. I didn’t know we had a session booked.” I tried to sound casual.
She ran her hands down her blonde hair, smoothing it, something she did regularly.
“You haven’t returned my calls.” Kylie didn’t do no. Like the world owed her or something. Or was that a quirk of the rich?
“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy.”
She adjusted her shoulders. Something she did when she was about to pounce.
I really didn’t want to be with her. If anything, in the morning’s light, and stone-cold sober, I didn’t find Kylie’s manicured looks attractive.
Manon overdid the makeup, but at least her lips hadn’t gone all duck-like and her tits were real—from what I could see in those tiny tops she favoured that always made me forget my name.
A young blonde girl stood awkwardly at the door. I welcomed the interruption because I didn’t know what else to say. Small talk had never been my forte.
“You must be here for the job.”
Kylie looked the girl up and down. “You’re hiring?”
“We need instructors. And I believe Terese runs Pilates classes too.”
Terese nodded.
“Oh. I already have a class I go to. I like the personal training myself.”
Kylie gave me a flirty smile, and I cringed, hoping Terese hadn’t noticed.
I turned to Terese. “Can you give me a minute? Perhaps have a look around, and I’ll be there in five.”
She nodded and smiled. “Of course. Thanks.”
Once Kylie and I were outside, I scratched my neck, heating into a rash, something that happened whenever I felt uncomfortable. “About the other night…”
Kylie looked over my shoulder, and I turned to find Manon, who looked at me, then Kylie, suspicion written all over her pretty face, like she’d found us naked.
“Oh, is this a private moment?” Manon asked.
I opened my mouth to respond with a resounding “no” when Kylie answered, “Yes, it is.” She eyeballed Manon, and the woman who had hijacked my sanity looked at me with a “how could you?” glower, then off she went.
I just froze like an idiot.
How could I allow this misunderstanding to escalate? I hadn’t exactly done anything. Had I?
