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Ava hums, thinking. "You need dirt on this trainer. I'll call Finley and get her to look into him."
"The guy's a local," I say. "If there's any dirt on him, the gym owner would already know about it."
"Everyone's got secrets, Clo. You don't want this guy to get the gym if he's got a history of assaulting women or something, right? Finding out the dirt now will be helping the whole town."
"I can't afford Finley," I say. "And it wouldn't be right. There's no way the gym owner would thank me for discovering something he can find in a background check."
Ava tuts. "Finley's better than a background check and I'll pay for it. I owe you for introducing me to that juice cleanse company last year."
There's a part of me that wants to give Ava the green light, but it's not the moral, rational part of me. "I've got no reason to think Asher's anything but a nice guy, Ava. I'm not going to help you invade his privacy."
"I love you, Clo, but this is your negative mindset speaking. There's nothing wrong with sussing out your competition. Just tell me his name. Finley will do the rest."
It is tempting, very tempting. But also wrong. "No. I appreciate it, but no."
She sighs heavily. "I just want to see you succeed. You're too talented and good to not be out there sharing it with the world."
"I want that too. I just have to do it my way."
It's not until after we hang up that I realize Ava never agreed not to ask Finley to investigate.
CHAPTER SIX
Asher
"Hey, man," Jacob Hill reaches out for a high-five and I step away from my spot, holding up the counter to return the gesture. "I finally beat my max chest press weight."
"Wow." I glance at my watch with a smirk. "It only took you what? Ten months?"
He laughs. "Fuck you, man. Not all of us can afford to spend every day in the gym tossing weight around."
I cross my arms over my chest and flex my biceps. "If you'd worked with me, I could have gotten you here faster and you wouldn't have had to work all day, every day, in the gym."
For the first time in the five months I've known Jacob, the owner of a local jewelry store, he actually stops and considers my offer. The gym is a great little hole-in-the-wall for serious lifters. The problem with serious lifters is they don't think a personal trainer could possibly have anything to offer them. Since I started here last winter, I've done more signing people up for memberships and re-racking weights than training.
"Okay," Jacob says. "I'll bite. I'll sign up for six weeks. If I see a significant improvement, I'll sign up for more."
I clap my hands together and keep my smile sedate, but mentally I'm fist-pumping and grinning. I grab the paperwork, get him all set up to start on Wednesday and go back to holding up the counter.
When Clover Weston walks into the gym, her ponytail bouncing, I go on high alert. She barely looks at me as she sashays past.
She's in yoga pants that cling to every curve and a loose-fitting tank top that dips low enough to reveal tantalizing cleavage. It's like she's being beautiful and sexy on purpose just to rub in how perfect she is or something. Maybe she thinks if she shakes that ass in front of me enough, I'll be dazed like a golden retriever offered steak.
"Gotta have a membership to get in," I say, all gruff nonchalance.
She doesn't even look at me as she heads for Russell's office. "I've got a meeting with your boss."
Her tone drips condescension. She is the epitome of snobbery, and I'm not about to let her walk all over me. "Russell didn't tell me he has an appointment this afternoon. And he's busy."
Her step falters just enough for me to get the sense I might be on the right track. But then she's walking again, her pace quicker.
Does she really think she's going to outrun me?
I leap over the counter, sprint, and stop in front of her, hands on my hips. "Not sure you heard me through all your attitude, but Russell asked not to be disturbed."
She rolls her eyes. "Why would I believe you?"
When she tries to go around me, I step to the side and block her again.
