Page 47 of Shamed
“No worries,” I say to the open doorway.
“Your little fan club is here early today.” Carol nods over to the stair machines, where a few women are chatting while looking over here.
I sigh.
Two of those women have asked me out for a drink on separate occasions. And despite my polite decline, they still come in multiple times a week and try to talk to me or ask for help at every opportunity.
Apparently, you’re supposed to be a dick andnotpolite for them to know you’re not interested. Unfortunately, I wasn’t raised that way.
It’s not that they’re unattractive, and I’m sure they’re nice people. It’s just . . . women and I have a complicated relationship. Actually, more like people in general.
Luckily, I’ll be too busy to stop for most of the day.
I turn back to Carol. “Thanks for the heads up.”
“Hopefully, they won’t bother you much.” She winks, then moves to greet someone who walks through the door behind me, leaving me to go to my small office to get started.
Taking a seat at my desk, I lean back in the chair and go through my schedule for the day: four personal training sessions with a little manning the free weights section in between, then my class at the end of the day.
I check which clients I have so I can get their programs ready, but my eyes pause on the third name, and I lean forward in my chair.
Jennifer.
I’ve been training this lady for six months now, and she’s come a long way. She’s also the only female client I have.
But it’s notherthat I’m fixated on right now; it’s thename.
Jennifer. Jennifer. Jennifer.
The name bounces around in my head, pushing something to the forefront with each pass, and then suddenly, everything becomes clear as if a veil was lifted in my mind.
Fuck. No way.
I know why Jayne seemed so incredibly familiar.
Ihaveseen that heart-shaped face, slightly sloped nose, and plush lips before.
I’ve also seen those stormy gray eyes filled with fear before, and they were directed at me the last time as well.
Her name isnotJayne.
Her name is Jennifer Lapmor.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jennifer
After letting another few drops land in the bucket, I hoist it up and attempt to carry it to the sink without spilling it all over myself. I’ve been letting the drips collect for a couple of days now, but with the rainy weather today, it would probably end up spilling over while I’m at work.
That, or it would end up too heavy for me to lift.
Imanage to tip all the water out with minimal splashes, then place it back on the ground under the leak with a sigh.
I could just ask Clint to fix the roof, but every time I think about making my life easier, that voice inside my head speaks up. It’s a constant blaring reminder of my sins.
Can Jacob changehissurroundings so easily?
No.
