Page 1 of Work It Out
Chapter One
September 3
Hollywood Tattler
All About Aliceactor Jake Newman was conspicuously absent on set as the show wrapped filming for its sixth season. This only days after Newman was photographed in a passionate embrace with the show’s star, Victoria Miller. The two were spotted outside L.A. General’s emergency department, where the brunette bombshell’s on-again, off-again boyfriend, Mark McCants, was treated for injuries resulting from what was reported to police as a mugging. The incident allegedly took place in broad daylight in Beverly Hills.
Newman couldn’t be reached for comment.
“You didn’t bring me out here to murder me, right?” Jake asked, because grown men didn’t whine,Are we there yet?
The six years since he left Bigbone, Arizona, had changed his life right down to his name, so much so that he wasn’t sure he recognized the man he’d become. Riding through the mountains of the Coconino National Forest in his best friend’s Jeep, crisp fall air whipping through the open windows, might’ve been a great trip up memory mountain if he weren’t two seconds from throwing up, passing out, or both.
They’d bypassed Bigbone ten minutes ago. Taking the main drag through the tiny mountain town would’ve been faster, but he wasn’t ready to announce his return yet. Driving past the cabal of little old ladies who all but lived in the square would be tantamount to renting a bullhorn.
How far out of town could Pierce’s new job be?
“You think I’d tell you if I planned on murdering you?” His oldest friend glanced at him with a sly smile, but it died as he continued. “It’s your grandma you should worry about. We both should. When she finds out you’re back, there’ll be hell to pay.” Pierce shuddered, and Jake had to laugh.
They’d seen each other a handful of times over the years, but the change in Pierce never failed to shock him. Since high school, the guy had acquired a perma-tan and an additional fifty pounds of muscle, while making a name for himself in the CrossFit community. Those were just a couple of the reasons he’d been at the top of Jake’s list of people to call. The muscle and expertise, not the fake bake. He certainly didn’t need to leave Los Angeles for that.
Muscles or no, Pierce was right to worry. Granny would go full Catholic guilt monster on them if she heard about his arrival from someone else, but he had more immediate concerns. If he didn’t get out of this car, he was going to hurl. “How much farther?”
“Almost there,” Pierce said over the wind. “It’s on the old Sampson stead.”
“Wyatt sold? I thought that ornery old fart would die on his mountain.”
“He did. Couple years ago.” Pierce bumped onto a vaguely familiar gravel road. “I’m surprised your grandparents didn’t mention it.”
They might have. He spoke to them often—Granny allowed nothing less—but it’d been a while since he’d paid close attention to anyone. Fine, he’d been a self-absorbed prick, and the cost of it was killing him. He cleared the guilty lump from his throat. “Who bought his land?”
“Nobody. He left it to his granddaughter. Ray rehabbed his cabin, then broke ground on the fitness center. We’ve been open about nine months now.”
“Ray’s a woman?” Pierce only ever referred to his boss as Ray, and the way he talked about her, Jake had assumed she was a man. Not that it mattered.
For some reason Pierce found Jake’s confusion hilarious. “Yeah, it’s short for Rayah. She’s got a serious Cabbage Patch vibe, but don’t let that fool you. She’ll go Chucky on your ass in a heartbeat.” A weird amount of pride rang in that pronouncement.
“Good to know.”
Pierce’s grip on the wheel tightened until his knuckles blanched. “Listen, man, I need to tell you something that could get me fired.”
“Then why—”
“Because it’s important.” He slowed to a stop on a level spot halfway up the mountain. In the distance, the brown roof of a building peeked out above the treetops. Rubbing one hand over his face, Pierce sighed and turned to Jake. “Rayah can be prickly. She’s got enough pride for five people, she hates media attention more than anyone I’ve ever met, and she has a bucketful of really valid trust issues, especially about things that might get her sued. She’ll probably look for any excuse to send you packing when she finds out who you are and why you’re here.”
Jake gaped at him. “Your boss doesn’t know I’m coming?”
“I didn’t want to get her hopes up.” He scraped a hand over his short hair. “Rayah wants to keep membership to clients paying for personal and small group training and classes. She likes the relaxed atmosphere and the exclusive feel.”
That was one reason Jake had given for hiring Pierce instead of one of the big-name Hollywood trainers his agent begged him to choose when they found out Jake was being considered for the role of a lifetime. One of his favorite comic book heroes, Phantom Strike, was getting his own movie. He was no Iron Man or Thor, but he certainly wasn’t Superman or Batman, either (because DC,blech). The role would mean a lot of screen time, particularly for his abs, which meant he needed to grow abs. Fast.
After the debacle with Vicky’s douche canoe of a boyfriend, he’d also needed to get out of L.A. for a while or risk murdering the little shit. He needed to do both under the radar as much as possible. His Nowheresville hometown was the perfect escape: private and easily explained away if the press did find him. But the biggest reason he’d chosen to come home to train was sitting beside him. He needed an expert he could trust, one who wouldn’t spill every humiliating detail of the battle ahead with the press or report back to his helicopter parent of an agent. Who better than the guy who already knew the skeletons in Jake’s closet by name and had proven he could keep his mouth shut?
“But,” Jake pressed, because there had to be a but.
“Explosion is on the brink of foreclosure. Would’ve already happened if Ray hadn’t negotiated an extra six months from the bank. She has her own plans to save it, but—”
Jake laughed. “So, that’s why you charged me out the ass, then demanded payment up front.”
