pedaling. “I write from nine to three every day, Monday through Friday. It’s not as easy for me to change my schedule as you might think.” Just thinking about Skinny Chick made her want to rush home to see what the reaction in the blogosphere was to her wedding-day post. If only her readers knew how far away from getting a ring on her finger (or wanting one) Alexis was. It amused her—who was she to dole out wedding advice?
Sarah sighed. “Well, I guess I could change my appointment to another day, but this doctor is really famous and hard to get a time slot with…”
“Great!” Alexis said brightly. “So I’ll see you Wednesday as usual.”
She ignored the widening of Sarah’s eyes and walked to the locker room. Alexis knew she was being awful but was unable to stop herself. This happened all the time, the overwhelming need to get what she wanted, the thrill of prevailing, and then the crash-and-burn feeling of recognizing there was a reason she had only one friend in the whole world, no boyfriend, no family she was close to: she was unbearable.
And yet, that line that most people wouldn’t cross, Alexis always did. She’d played softball in high school, a fact that amused Billy. (He’d once tried on her old uniform, prancing around their apartment. It had fit him better than it had her.) She’d been skilled as pitcher, one of the best in her town, and her mojo was fucking with the head of each batter. Alexis got a reputation for changing up her speed more times than any other pitcher in the league. She enjoyed watching her opponents squirm. She loved winning. That feeling never dissipated.
She knew Sarah was loyal to her and the closest thing to a female friend she had, and yet … she still wanted her to provide the same service, which was to be her trainer three times a week, at the scheduled time. Why should her routine have to get screwed up just because Sarah couldn’t remember to take her birth control pill?
As she flung her workout bra and shorts on the organic bamboo bench beside the shower and stepped under the water, she suddenly heard loud, heaving noises and looked around for their source, only to realize they were coming from her , that she, Alexis Allbright, was crying, for fuck’s sake. Because her personal trainer was pregnant. She laughed as she lathered her hair with the Aveda shampoo provided by the gym. She scrubbed so hard her scalp would be bright red the next day. How ridiculous! This was a happy time for Sarah, she’d been her loyal trainer for years, never canceled a single appointment, had kept Alexis in fabulous shape … but Alexis knew that if Sarah was trying to change her regular appointment today, it wouldn’t be the last time. For the next six months things would change a lot, and Alexis didn’t like change. She was successful exactly because of her strict adherence to her schedule.
Her readers logged on to Skinny Chick as soon as they got into work, and she didn’t get up to three million clicks a day without being über-disciplined. She stood under the scalding water until her shoulders were fire-engine red, turned off the faucet, and dried off.
On her way to the exit, she saw a bright yellow laminated sign perched on the front check-in desk. She walked over to have a closer look. “Looking good, baby, looking good,” Carlos called out to her.
“Thanks, Carlos!” She picked up the poster. “What’s this event?”
“Oh, that’s actually going to be pretty dope. Sarah and I are both going. A chef, Noah Cohen, is going to give a simple, healthy cooking lesson. He worked at a few New York establishments, Nobu, Gramercy Tavern. In his bio it says he’s from Colorado and makes a mean chili.”
Alexis fingered the poster, looking at the photo of Noah. He was tall, with coffee-colored skin, and the picture highlighted his soft bed of dark brown curls with sunny blond tips. His sleeves were rolled up and thick, sculpted muscle peeked through, a vein
Sarah sighed. “Well, I guess I could change my appointment to another day, but this doctor is really famous and hard to get a time slot with…”
“Great!” Alexis said brightly. “So I’ll see you Wednesday as usual.”
She ignored the widening of Sarah’s eyes and walked to the locker room. Alexis knew she was being awful but was unable to stop herself. This happened all the time, the overwhelming need to get what she wanted, the thrill of prevailing, and then the crash-and-burn feeling of recognizing there was a reason she had only one friend in the whole world, no boyfriend, no family she was close to: she was unbearable.
And yet, that line that most people wouldn’t cross, Alexis always did. She’d played softball in high school, a fact that amused Billy. (He’d once tried on her old uniform, prancing around their apartment. It had fit him better than it had her.) She’d been skilled as pitcher, one of the best in her town, and her mojo was fucking with the head of each batter. Alexis got a reputation for changing up her speed more times than any other pitcher in the league. She enjoyed watching her opponents squirm. She loved winning. That feeling never dissipated.
She knew Sarah was loyal to her and the closest thing to a female friend she had, and yet … she still wanted her to provide the same service, which was to be her trainer three times a week, at the scheduled time. Why should her routine have to get screwed up just because Sarah couldn’t remember to take her birth control pill?
As she flung her workout bra and shorts on the organic bamboo bench beside the shower and stepped under the water, she suddenly heard loud, heaving noises and looked around for their source, only to realize they were coming from her , that she, Alexis Allbright, was crying, for fuck’s sake. Because her personal trainer was pregnant. She laughed as she lathered her hair with the Aveda shampoo provided by the gym. She scrubbed so hard her scalp would be bright red the next day. How ridiculous! This was a happy time for Sarah, she’d been her loyal trainer for years, never canceled a single appointment, had kept Alexis in fabulous shape … but Alexis knew that if Sarah was trying to change her regular appointment today, it wouldn’t be the last time. For the next six months things would change a lot, and Alexis didn’t like change. She was successful exactly because of her strict adherence to her schedule.
Her readers logged on to Skinny Chick as soon as they got into work, and she didn’t get up to three million clicks a day without being über-disciplined. She stood under the scalding water until her shoulders were fire-engine red, turned off the faucet, and dried off.
On her way to the exit, she saw a bright yellow laminated sign perched on the front check-in desk. She walked over to have a closer look. “Looking good, baby, looking good,” Carlos called out to her.
“Thanks, Carlos!” She picked up the poster. “What’s this event?”
“Oh, that’s actually going to be pretty dope. Sarah and I are both going. A chef, Noah Cohen, is going to give a simple, healthy cooking lesson. He worked at a few New York establishments, Nobu, Gramercy Tavern. In his bio it says he’s from Colorado and makes a mean chili.”
Alexis fingered the poster, looking at the photo of Noah. He was tall, with coffee-colored skin, and the picture highlighted his soft bed of dark brown curls with sunny blond tips. His sleeves were rolled up and thick, sculpted muscle peeked through, a vein
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