When I emerge from the locker room after packing up, Julian appears from his office. He doesn’t seem happy at all; his forehead is creased and his mouth flattened into a tight line, eliciting a nervous feeling in my belly.
“Get in here,” he barks.
I loop my bag around me and hurry into his office, shutting the door behind me. He hovers over his table, drumming his fingers impatiently against the surface. I eye the fresh doughnut sitting on the plate beside him, which is left untouched.
Oh no.
My gaze swings back up. “What’s up, Jules?”
“Your father’s fiancé says she can’t reach you.”
“What?” I ask, drawing my eyebrows low on my face.
“How do you know that?”
“Because she has been calling the gym incessantly, asking me for your training schedule,” he says pointedly.
“And I told her I couldn’t disclose that information in case you wanted it to be kept private.”
“Thank you.” I breathe out in relief.
Julian and I may have our differences, but I know at the end of the day, he’s got my back.
He shakes his head, indicating that he’s not done. “So she’s been showing up every hour today to see if you’re around. She just said she’s outside right now,” he adds nonchalantly. “I told her to come in.”
I take it back. I hope he chokes on his doughnut and dies.
“Julian, what the hell?”
“She sounds like she wants to connect with you, Sienna,” he says. “I know you have your issues with your dad. But she seems nice and wants to make things work with you. And I think you should.”
I wince at the irritation spiking in my body. He’s crazy if he thinks he can make that decision for me.
“No offence, Jules, but that isn’t exactly your call to make.”
“No offence, Sienna, but you need to sort your shit out soon. You’re too unhinged right now for me to consider you taking over the gym after I retire,” he retorts. “I have high hopes for you because you’re good at what you do.
You’re one of the best trainers I’ve ever seen, hands down.
And that’s why I need you to work through your own issues before I can even think about handing over the keys.”
I force my mouth shut. Is this how he really sees me?
Unhinged? I know I’m not exactly the most rational person ever, but I would think that with what I’ve been going through, I’ve been coping fairly well.
I can’t believe he’s going to dangle ownership of the gym over my head like a carrot on a stick just to force me to do his bidding.
“This is blackmail,” I state.
“It’s motivation,” he corrects.
Motivation my ass.
Making an annoyed sound, I shove the door a little too hard on my way out.
As I cross the length of the gym, I spot Alyson eyeing all the equipment as she strides toward me. Her hair is swept neatly to the side and she’s wearing a burgundy off-shoulder bodycon dress with a matching Prada bag perched on her arm and a pair of heels. They dig hard into the mats when she walks over them.
“Oh, how cute,” she says when she stops beside one of the punching bags and knocks a playful fist on it.