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“I don’t have a membership.” I told the desk clerk. “I’m just looking for a friend who works out here.”
“Is this friend expecting you?”
“No. Her phone’s on silent.” I pulled my own cell phone out of my pocket and waved it in casual demonstration.
“Did you try texting her?” the woman asked, knowing what I was angling for. She didn’t want to let me loose on the place, nor did she want to page a Reed’s Gym customer without a good reason, and I didn’t have one. Whatever she was thinking was probably worse than the truth, but I still wasn’t going to enlighten her.
“Yep, I texted her,” I lied. But actually….I didn’t have to lie about that. I did have Sadie’s number. I’d made her give it to me when she moved into my house. I’d just forgotten she was a contact since I’d never actually contacted her. Ever. Well, there was no time like the present.
“Since I’m here, could I get a tour? I’m interested in joining.”
“Of course.” She gave me a tight-lipped smile and directed me over to their concierge seating, a place with plushy chairs and multiple TVs with excellent sports channels. “Someone will be with you shortly.”
Unlikely, but I did as she bid and sank into a leather chair. Might as well text Sadie in comfort.
Denver: I need to talk to you.
I didn’t expect Sadie to text back right away, but her response was immediate.
Sadie: Who is this?
Denver: The guy who brings you muffins.
Sadie: Why do you still have this number?
Denver: Because I do. And I’m here.
Sadie: Where?
Denver: Here.
Let her chew on that for a while. Just to sweeten the pot, I added:You can come to the front, or I’ll make them page you. I brought the shake weights you asked for, Fanny.
Denver: Or should I call you Ivana Tinkle?
Denver: Anita Bath?
Denver: Amanda Hugginkiss?
I hoped her phone dinged every time I sent a message, annoying her and the people around her.
Sadie: Go right ahead and embarrass yourself. I don’t answer to any of those names.
Denver: Good point. Change in plans. I’ll ask for Sadie Tyler in the cutoff sweatpants and faded T-shirt with a kick-butt message on it. That’s you, right?
There was no response. Just those three dots coming and going. I glanced behind me to make sure she wasn’t about to attack me, and then I reread the thread for therapeutic purposes.
Two minutes later, a small trickle of ice-cold water down my neck welcomed me to her presence. I looked up and gave her my smuggest smile, as she was indeed sporting cutoff sweats and an old T-shirt that read,Fueled by Rage.Although, being right about her outfit was only a small victory. I would have preferred that month back where she’d lived in my house, rather than a perfect understanding of all her quirks.
“Why are you here? This isn’t your gym.” She sank into the armchair to my left and pressed her water bottle to her forehead. Hideous cutoff sweats aside, there was something instinctively seductive about the glow of workout sweat on her tan skin, but I ignored that thought and leaned forward.
“You convinced Makayla to break up with me. Do you truly hate me that much?”
Sadie’s mouth dropped open, but she quickly closed it and sighed. “It’s not my fault.”
“She said you gave her excellent advice.”
Sadie had the decency to look embarrassed. “She’s still in love with her ex. All I said was for her to make up her mind.”
