Not a word said to me, and yet I want to start gabbling apologies at him. I don’t, though, because unlike Kevin, I actually have some backbone.
“Were you touching that equipment?” Dom asks. His voice is deep and rich and vibrates through me, blocking all other noise out. The gym fades into the background.
I glance nervously at the barbell. Is that a trick question? He saw me with the weight in my hand. “Um… yes?”
He folds his arms, leveling his smoldering gaze at me. “Are you being smart with me?”
“What? No!”
“I’ll ask you again. Were you touching that equipment when I specifically requested that you not begin your workout without me?”
Somebody walks past us but slows right down when they hear what Dom has said to me. Is Dom about to invite everyone nearby to tell me I’m weak and pathetic? If he does, I’ll leave. That’s verbal abuse and I won’t stand for it from Dom for the sake of a lousy article.
I draw myself up and fold my arms as well, mirroring his overbearing stance. It’s not quite so impressive from me, though, as I’m five feet six and I definitely have noodle arms. “Yes, I was. So what?”
“I’m severely displeased with you already, Miss Tate.” He doesn’t shout, but he enunciates carefully and I’m sure every word is carrying to those around us. I can almost feel their glee at my dressing-down. “You’re disobedient, and I will have no more of this behavior from you.”
My arms loosen in shock. Is he serious? I haven’t been talked to this way since I was a child and I wrote all over the walls in crayon.
Dom brandishes the clipboard. “Joshua tells me you wouldn’t fill out the membership form. Why?”
“Well, I, um…” I fumble over my words. I feel an insane impulse to run my fingers though the ends of my ponytail and plead for mercy. “I’m only here to write a story on the gym. Filling it out would be pointless.”
Dom stares at me, hard, and then slowly shakes his head.
Oh, for heaven’s sake. I know how I’m going to start my article. Dom Fitness takes itself way too seriously.
“Young lady, as you’re aware we’re not an ordinary fitness center.”
My eyebrows shoot up. Young lady?
“The rules are to protect our staff and clients and the questionnaire is to ensure that you receive an experience that’s tailored for you. In your case, it’s especially important that you get a feel for the place, for the article you’re writing. Don’t you want to do your best possible work for your employer?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“I need to know how you’re different from all my other clients. I’m going to sit you down on a chair just over there, and you’re going to fill out the questionnaire for me.”
He’s already holding out his arm toward the chairs, but I’m not ready to obey. “I thought the questionnaire was to pair me with the right trainer. Aren’t you my trainer? That’s what Joshua said.”
Take that, you big bully. LOGIC.
Dom’s eyes travel to my lips, as if he’s displeased with what’s coming out of them. “Yes, I’m your trainer. We’re paired well already. Joshua on the front desk is an excellent judge of character.”
I wonder what it means for me that I’ve “paired well” with Dom. In my opinion, we go together about as well as red wine and chalk. “Then why do I—”
“I need to know everything about you before we begin, and you need to study the rules.” He points to the chairs. “Now sit.”
For heaven’s sake, this is more trouble than it’s worth. I take the clipboard from him and flounce over to a black chair.
“Not that chair,” he tells me. “That one.”
Next to the black chair is a tiny pink one covered in flower stickers. I glare at Dom and he glares right back, still pointing at it. I suppose this is meant to humiliate me for all my backchat. Doesn’t he understand that I’m a journalist and I can write whatever I like about this horrible place? I’ll show him. I’ll really go to town on Dom Fitness in my article.
Fuming, I sit in the pink chair. It’s sized for a five-year-old and my knees are up around my ears. Dom stands over me, and when I crane my neck up I’m certain I see a flicker of pleasure in his eyes at the sight of me looking so ridiculous. I’m being humiliated for his amusement, just like Kevin was humiliated.
This place is full of assholes on power trips. When I’m done with my write up, Dom Fitness is going to be mud.
I turn my attention to the questionnaire and start to read. Being praised by someone I respect is an enjoyable feeling. What a dumb question. Who doesn’t get a nice feeling when a really cool or together person thinks you’re amazing? A big old ten to that. I circle the number and read the next question.