Page 5 of Work It Out
That shouldn’t be so hot.
Instead, he squeezed her hand gently and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Rayah’s eyes narrowed as she stared at his face. “Aren’t you—”
“Yep,” Pierce interjected. “He’s that Jake Newman. Minor character in multiple movies and a slightly bigger deal on that tweenager show,All About Alice. You know, your average, run-of-the-mill B-list celebrity.”
Rayah’s lips parted slightly as she gazed up at him. “All right, Mr. Newman.” A tantalizing hint of a shiver threaded through her voice when she said his name. “I’ll bite. How exactly are you the answer to my prayers?”
He couldn’t have stopped the grin that stretched across his face if he’d tried. She was sassy, too. Unfortunately, before he could answer, Pierce started running his mouth again. “Jake needs our help, and he’s willing to pay through the nose to get it.”
All hint of flirtation fled as her attention bounced to Pierce, then back to Jake.
Forcing himself to focus on the problem and not her eyes, he explained, “I’m up for a major role, but I don’t have the physique for it. Yet.”
She asked Pierce dozens of questions about everything from Jake’s diet to his experience with exercise, approximately half of which he understood. Luckily, Pierce seemed fluent in Fitish.
When she ran out of questions, Rayah trapped her lower lip with her teeth, torturing the poor thing as she shifted from foot to foot. Finally, she asked, “What exactly constitutes ‘paying through the nose’?”
Pierce leaned over and whispered in her ear. Her eyes grew round.
“Up front,” Pierce added.
“Are you serious?”
Pierce laughed. “As the early-onset heart disease we’re saving him from.”
A brilliant smile lit her face. “Welcome to Explosion, Mr. Newman. We hope you enjoy your stay. It’s going to be hell.”
She had no idea.
Chapter Two
August 29
Explosion Fitness Center’s Instagram
(Featuring a collage of shamelessly thirsty shirtless pics of Blaine and Nate, better known as The Man Meat)
Looking to kick your fitness game into high gear before the holidays hit your waistline? Join our combat experts for a two-week intensive battle-based boot camp. Attendees of all fitness and skill levels welcome. Class begins September 14. Fee includes fourteen nights in one of our on-site luxury suites in the beautiful Coconino National Forest. Enjoy your evenings in Sedona or Flagstaff, both only a short but gorgeous drive away.
Space is limited, so reserve your spot now!ExplosionFitness.com/registration
***Updated September 4: We’re blown away by all the interest! Spots for this boot camp are full. But fear not, more classes coming soon!
Rayah Summers raced around the cabin she’d called home for the last year, tossing her belongings into an industrial-sized rolling laundry bin like a hyperactive squirrel on crack.
At this point, she wasn’t even surprised this day from hell left her homeless. Over the last year, Bigbone had lived up to its name and then some—and not in the fun way—but it’d brought its A game today. Her five a.m. client stood her up without so much as a courtesy text. There’d been no coffee, because her guys could talk muscle cell regeneration all day, but apparently none of them could work an Amazon cart. And she’d been halfway through her morning run and covered in sweat when the manager from Desert Dreams had shown up a full you’ve-got-to-be-shitting-me seven-and-a-half hours early for her tour, with the chain’s CEO and three board members in tow.
For bonus cosmic screw-you points, they’d all been women. Women hated her. It had to be her resting bitch face. She had nothing on Grace, but it was scientific fact that RBF of any level was nice person repellant and mean girl catnip.
Rayah had mopped herself up as best she could and pitched her idea while she showed them around. The concept was simple. Both Desert Dreams and Explosion would sell collaborative packages where they’d bus resort guests to Explosion in the morning for boot camps, yoga retreats, or personal butt-kicking sessions, then ship them back to Desert Dreams for super-fancy rooms, massages, and enough fine dining to undo the day’s work.
They’d asked maybe five questions and been in and out in twenty minutes. Needless to say, she was no longer putting her eggs in that rickety basket. Which meant Jake Newman’s happiness was the only thing standing between her and bankruptcy. Well, she had one last Hail Mary up her sleeve, but that was a crazy-pants play, even for the desperate.
Jake wanted to settle into his room, grab a meal, then start his training later that evening. She’d had to do some fast talking to persuade Pierce to take him for a tour first, then fill out all his new client paperwork and start his training right away, using the excuse that it would allow them to squeeze in a second session later that night.
Truth was, with the upstairs suites booked, she’d needed the time to figure out where to put him. Now she and Samuel were clearing out and scrubbing down the only accommodations remotely fit for a TV star: hers.
