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“I believe there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“I highly doubt that. I saw the flyers with my own eyes.”
“I mean, you’ve jumped to the wrong conclusion. I’m assuming Kai didn’t discuss this with you.”
“Kai? My brother?” He sounds surprised. “What’s he got to do with this?” Then as if realization hits, he curses under his breath. “Are you telling me Kai gave you permission?”
“Bingo,” I reply with satisfaction. “We met the other day at Second Cup. I went over to introduce myself, mistaking him for you at first glance.” Now I can’t fathom how that’s possible. Kai’s dark hair was deliberately styled to look tousled while Leo must use gel glue as there’s not a hair out of place. Kai’s grey eyes are lighter, like rain clouds, while Leo’s are dark and thunderous. Kai was funny and at ease. Leo is intense and uptight. Kai is more my type, but with him I hadn’t felt that instant jolt of sexual energies colliding.
“How did Kai come to give you permission?” he presses forward, impatiently.
“We ended up chatting for a while and he mentioned that he saw my flyers. He said what I was doing was cool and?—”
“Yeah, I’m getting the picture.”
I’m not sure what picture he’s getting, but I intend to make one thing clear. “I would not have stepped foot on your property with my flyers unless I’d been invited. Your brother said he was the gym manager and authorized to make these decisions. I had no reason to doubt his sincerity.”
He clenches his fists. “Kai is not my manager and he has no authority to make decisions about my business. So, in future, keep F.!.T. out of your coffee dates or whatever you do together.”
I once again strive for calm. “Because I understand this is a shock, I’m going to give you a pass on your insulting insinuation. I genuinely believed I had permission. Now that I know I don’t, I will not do it again, I can assure you. I had no intention of stealing your customers.”
“Humph. I wasn’t worried about that,” he says dismissively. “It’s about following the rules. What you offer here is no threat to my business.”
I bristle at his condescending brush off. “Actually, three of your members will be joining Fab Fitness in May.”
He raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Yeah, right.”
“Don’t you have a process to follow-up with members who give their thirty-day notice?” I ask pointedly.
The embarrassment on his face tells me he doesn’t.
“Well, if you did, they might have told you that your program is too intense and regimented, and that your outdated BMI measurements make them feel uncomfortable and judged. Consider this complimentary feedback a token of my regret over the misunderstanding.”
He’s clearly fuming, that vein about to pop.
“Is there anything else?” I ask sweetly.
“No,” he grumbles.
“Good night then.” I open the door for him, and he walks through it, hands shoved angrily in his pockets.
I watch him leave, disappointed that the first man to turn me on in a long time had the personality of a limp carrot. He hadn’t even the decency to apologize for jumping to the wrong conclusion. And worse, he acted as if I were in cahoots with his brother.
I tell myself that I hope never to see Leo Foster again.
But deep down, I know I’m lying.
CHAPTER 3
Leo
IF ONLY I HAD HANDLED the situation better. If only I had approached Jazz with questions instead of throwing sharply speared accusations. If only I had been able to think straight instead of being consumed by the desire to slam her body against mine. And damn, if only I had recognized that this was exactly the kind of shit Kai would pull, it would have saved me from embarrassment and Jazz from an unfair confrontation.
But there’s no point to dwell on“if only.” I can’t change the things I said, and yet the replay of my behaviour gnaws at my gut, feeding me my own lunch.
I reach the tree-lined street where I’d spent my childhood—bike riding, crushing on my neighbour, and playing road hockey. Simpler times. Now, I’m considering the various ways to apologize to Jazz. Sending her flowers feels too romantic, a plant too housewarming, and an email too impersonal. Seeing her again? That would be a recipe for disaster.
She appeared older in her headshot, but in person, without make-up, I would guess her to be twenty-three, twenty-four tops. Not jailbait, but not far off. On top of that, she’s too unconventional with all that kumbaya and centring herself crap.
