Page 8 of Heavy Lifting
“You own the business right next to mine. I like to be cordial with my neighbors. I have introduced myself to Lisa, the woman that owns Lisa’s Properties. I have introduced myself to the WU’s, the owners of WU Korean BBQ. I have met Sarah from Sarah’s Cakes and Desserts, and all the rest of the business owners in this plaza. I have seen you coming and going but I don’t know your name. I don’t want to just call you the gym lady. Can you please tell me your name?” He asked.
The way he begged made my pussy clench. I loved a yearning man. It had been so long since a man begged me for anything. I was at my gym 15 hours a day and that didn’t leave much room for romance.
I sucked my teeth and he laughed at me.
Lord even his laugh was fine.
Maybe my mind was making him finer than he was because it had been so long since I was interested in someone. I looked down at the box next to his feet and it was a crate of vegetables and fruit that still had dirt and grass attached to them.
He wasn’t bullshitting when he said the juice was fresh. He couldn’t just buy vegetables and fruit from the grocery store like a normal business owner; this nigga had to bring the products straight from the ground. That annoyed and impressed me.
My name is Zumani Welsh, you can call me Zumo. Now that I have shown you mine can you show me yours?” He asked and immediately smirked. He knew how it sounded and he didn’t bother to try to clear it up.
“I never asked for your name you offered it. You clearly aren’t going to give me my parking spot so I’m not about to sit here and keep wasting my time. Have a pleasant evening Mr. Welsh.” I immediately turned around and walked off before Iended up on the evening news. Some people were impossible and Mr. Welsh was one of them, I could tell. The entire walk to my gym I could feel my blood pressure climbing.
By the time I walked through the front doors, Shelly looked up from the front desk like a guilty kid who was caught sneaking cookies before breakfast. She had a large bag of hot fries in her hands, and she was eating them like they were her last supper.
“Is everything ok? You look like someone just killed your best friend,” she smirked.
“That new neighbor next door just pissed me off and took my parking spot. He didn’t even have remorse.” I fumed as I walked up to her, grabbed the chips from her hand, and threw them in the trash can nearby.
“Those things will clog your arteries and kill you. Do you read the labels?” I asked her angrily.
Before she could respond I walked to my office and slammed the door behind me hard enough to rattle the glass.
The silence lasted approximately four seconds before my phone started ringing. I may as well have attached my phone to my hand because there was always someone on it.
Contractors, Investors, City and Code Enforcement, there was always something that needed to be done. I had a to do list that never ended. I understood why almost 80 percent of small businesses crashed. Unfortunately, I loved the gym, and I loved running it, so I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
I looked at the screen and sighed loudly. I didn’t have the energy to deal with my sister-in-law at midnight. I ignored the call and called her husband. My fraternal twin brother Cozart Walker had been a pain in my ass since he came out of my mother’s pussy five minutes after me. Co was originally supposed to run the family business, but he was so damnirresponsible the only thing he knew how to do was workout, fuck women, and drive flashy cars. He didn’t give a damn that he was married and a father, Co did what he wanted.
His phone rang two times before telling me that my call had been forwarded to voicemail. That bastard sent me to voicemail. I called again and he did it again. I called six more times, and he sent me to voicemail every single time. I could imagine that he was sending his wife to voicemail as well and that was why she was trying to reach me. I rubbed my temples and placed the phone on my desk. My brother was thirty-five years old, and I had to fix his issues and ride his ass like we were in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Being Cozart’s twin was exhausting. Being older by five minutes meant I became responsible for all his nonsense. He required more supervision than his son, my eight-year-old nephew.
I glanced toward the family photo sitting on my desk. In Aspen in the winter, there was me, Co, and our parents. This photo was one of my last beautiful memories of our family before we lost my mother. Cozart wasn’t as reckless back then. I understood people grieved differently. My father wanted to sell the family business because of his grief, Cozart started getting in trouble, and I became the fixer.
In this picture life was simpler.
I was in my freshman year of college, studying pre-med, dating a cute guy, and my biggest worry was if Hollister and Abercrombie and Fitch were having a sale. When my mother got sick, all of that shit stopped mattering. When she died, I lost part of myself.
Suddenly a thought came to me. Why should I make it easy for the juice man to just take my customers? If they wanted juice, I could give them juice. I could start my own juice bar. I had plenty of empty rooms here in the gym. I could turn one ofthose rooms into a juice bar. I could even give the highest tiered members discounts on freshly made juices. That would make people want to upgrade their memberships and bring in more revenue to the gym. That bastard thought he was going to steal customers from me, but I was about to steal the customers back from him that he had stolen from me.
I would run his ass back to Mississippi with his loud colored truck and his parking spot thievery. The more I thought about it, the more I liked it. People were already asking for smoothies after workouts. Why send them next door? The idea settled into my brain and I refused to leave. I immediately texted my manager Trallis so we could brainstorm.
A minute later she walked inside my office carrying enough attitude to power the city of Atlanta.
“What’s up?” She asked nervously.
I pointed toward the chair and told her to sit down. She dropped into the chair dramatically.
“Whatever they said I did, I didn’t do it,” she shrugged and I rolled my eyes at her.
“This ain’t about nothing you did! The juice place next door, have you been over there? Have you tried any of the juice?” I asked her as I typed my password into my computer and began to research.
“That man is so damn fine I wish that he would put himself in a cup and let me drink him.” Trallis bit her lip. I narrowed my eyes at her, and she scratched her head and looked away.
“Trallis.”
“What?”
