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Nope. It’s all Dean and those damned green eyes that follow me everywhere. He’s standing on one side of the room, his back to the wall as he watches me intently. His lips pull to one side when our eyes lock, and I realize what he’s doing. The jackass is trying to intimidate me into screwing this up! It’s not the end, of course, but if I messed up here, it would certainly add doubt during the final challenge.
I pull down on the little mic that hangs from my ear, bringing it to my mouth. “It won’t work, buddy,” I tell him.
“Cat!” Julie says beside me, scaring the bejeezus out of me. “Remember yourself.”
“One minute,” someone yells from across the room.
“Are you ready?” she asks.
“I’ll do you proud, Jules.”
“Do YOU proud, kitten. I’m already there.” She pats my back and moves away, as the countdown begins.
“Five, four, three, two.” One is left out, instead I get the finger point that lets me know to start.
“What’s up, Maxxers!” I yell at the ten people in front of me, then hoot at the camera. “Welcome and thank you so much for joining us on this stretch of Maxx Boot Camp’s Keys to Key West Challenge!” Everyone, including myself claps. “For those that are just tuning in, my name is Cat Eberhardt, and that there, is my arch nemesis and assistant, Dean Cooper. We are the two finalists, going head to head to prove once and for all, who the best man is. For all who have decided to join my class, you have chosen wisely.”
From the corner of my eye I see Julie doing the universal sign for “cut,” running her hand through the air sideways.
“Uh, right. Now, without further ado, who’s ready to cardio hardio!” I hit play on the music, blaring it as loud as it goes. The Black Eyed Peas have been charged with getting this party started. “Whoo!”
Cardio is the easiest class to pump up. It’s fast paced, energy laden, and fun. Today is split up into five stations. For the sake of making sure everyone looks extra good for the camera, we chose things we knew they could do well.
100 jump ropes.
25 hurdle jumps.
25 skip jumps.
25 full burpees.
25 high knees.
Hard and easy at the same time.
“Yeah! Come on, Roberta. You can do it!” I encourage the older woman. “That’s it!”
“Way to go, Chris. Give me two more!” I say to the tired man doing burpees.
Jumping in front of Frankie, I drive my knees up with him, doing my best to pass on some of my energy. Or at the very least offer support.
I’m immersing myself into my work as much as I ever do. But as much as I try to ignore it, I can feel the heaviness of Dean’s stare at my back and I can’t help but turn to him. Just as I figured, he’s staring at me. Every time I look his eyes are on me. There’s unmistakable hunger in them, and if looks could eat, he’d already have gobbled me up.
He’s setting me on edge, afraid that someone will notice.
I say nothing, instead putting up with it for the first half of my class. But it’s getting to me. Wiping the sweat off my brow, I set out to empower everyone.
Dancing to Marshmello’s “Alone,” I wiggle, throwing a “Rock On” sign to one of the cameras. Then I turn, and catch Dean watching me, again, even as he assists an older gentleman on a burpee modification.
“That’s it,” I say, having had enough. Everyone seems to be in a good rhythm, so I walk up to Dean and whisper in his ear. “Can I talk to you for a sex. Sex. Sec! I mean, sex. Sec! Can I talk to you for a sec outside, please?”
“Sure.”
We go out. Everyone’s eyes follow us, but I know the moment the glass door closes, they won’t be able to hear a thing. For all they know we are talking about exercise.
“Stop it!” I demand.
“Stop what?”
