Fit for the Job (4 page)

She shrugged, not looking at him.

“Libby will be back around six, she’ll make you something to eat if you want.”

No response.

“Your father told you about the personal trainer? I met him today. He seems nice.”

She rolled her eyes, and Bodie sighed.

“Sassy, you don’t want to be grounded all summer, do you? I mean, this isn’t what you want. It’s not fun for you. So why keep this up? Drop this silly thing with your father.”

She finally met his gaze, her blue-eyed scowl so similar to Eben’s it made him take a step back. “Grounded?” she snapped. “Is that what they’re calling imprisonment these days?”

“Point is you don’t like it. So end this. Make up with your father. Just stop these threats you’re making. I know he wants to fix things with you. He’ll ease up if you do.”

“I’ll ease up,” she said through clenched teeth. “If he pays me off and lets me go.”

“Your father loves you. He’s not going to let you just run off and live on your own. You’re too young.”

She glared at him once more, then turned her attention back to the television. “Yeah.” She chuckled. “Sure. It’s
me
he’s concerned about.”

“Sassy—”

“Get out of my room, Bodie. Go suck my father’s dick some more.”

Bodie flinched. “That’s vulgar and uncalled for.”

“I was being metaphorical. Would you take it less personally if I said go kiss his ass some more?”

Bodie shook his head and walked toward the door. “Let me know if you need anything, all right?”

“A phone? A computer? A life?”

He glanced back at her.

She turned away. “Didn’t think so. Get lost, Bodie.”

He left her room, then moved back down to the first floor, passing Tate, a tall, muscular black man who’d worked general security for Eben for years. Tate was an ex-marine—or rather he was a marine. Bodie had let that term slip once and Tate had scolded him, reminding him that ‘there was no such thing as an ex-marine’. Either way, they were both former military, and that, among other things had bonded them in a friendly, working relationship.

Handsome, with close cropped dark hair and a masculine appeal, Tate nearly always wore a smile, and let things roll off his back far more than Bodie did. Bodie appreciated his presence in the house, reminding him to lighten up, that things could be far worse. That their jobs were not dealing with life or death scenarios.

“Hey Bodie, what’s up?”

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“All quiet on the Eastern front,” Tate said. “How’s the kid?”

Bodie snorted, and shook his head.

Tate laughed. “Same, then.”

Bodie nodded. “She’s in her room, but keep your ears on her for a few minutes? I’m just gonna scoot into the computer room and check my email.”

Tate nodded. “No problem, I got it.”

Bodie unlocked the door to the computer room and stepped inside, closing and locking it behind him. Eben had moved all technology that could contact the outside world into this one room when they moved into the house, to be sure Sassy couldn’t get access. Bodie felt almost guilty as he sat down at the desk and opened his computer. Silly, really. It wasn’t like Sassy was really
suffering
due to a lack of technology, what with kids starving all over the world by comparison.

He checked his email, though he rarely heard from anyone these days. He’d lost all of what he’d called friends when he quit the military a year ago, and had as little use for his family as they had for him. He was stalling, pretending even to himself that he didn’t have a reason for going online.

But eventually he gave in and did a search for Jay Capello.

Crops of photos populated his browser, and he clicked through image after image of Jay. In most of them his hair was longer, tied back in a tight ponytail, giving a better view of his face. It was a nice face. Definitely easy on the eyes.

Bodie felt a bizarre wave of protectiveness blow through him. He’d never felt protective of a man before, not on an intimate level. He was self-aware enough to acknowledge that he’d always chosen men who were tough, physically and emotionally. Men who required nothing from him but his body. And he liked it that way. He didn’t want to feel responsible for anyone else’s feelings. He shouldn’t feel responsible for whatever might happen to Jay’s when he came to work here.

But still, that fist continued to twist in his gut, that deep place that told him he was on the wrong side of right, and no amount of rationalization could reason with it.

But he tried to reason with it anyway. So Jay had no idea he was walking into a shitty, dysfunctional job for the summer. What was the worst that could happen? Jay would either quit, or he wouldn’t. And like Bodie, the guy was getting paid. This wasn’t charity work.

As he continued his Internet search, Bodie stumbled upon a video clip, a sample of Jay’s fitness DVD. He hesitated a moment, then clicked on it.

He watched, somewhat mesmerized, as Jay, clad in a pale blue tank and black shorts, led a class of similarly dressed, fit followers in a routine that seemed to be made up of fast-paced resistance aerobics combined with strength training.

My God, that body
.

Jay’s arms were cut with muscle, his legs long and strong, a hint of chiseled pectorals peeking out from the sides of the tank. It was as Bodie had suspected; the guy was way more impressive without so many clothes on. But it wasn’t just the impressiveness of Jay’s exposed flesh that gave him pause, making him raise his eyebrows in surprise. Jay was
screaming
.

Not a high-pitched, ‘a shark is attacking me’ scream. His voice was deep, commanding, confident as he shouted instruction and encouragement at the camera, expression fierce.

‘Stay with me!’

‘You know this part, come on, get those legs up!’

‘This is gonna get you what you want! Don’t quit on me, four more!’

‘You’ve got this! Can you feel it? I know it hurts. Do it again!’

Bodie huffed out a short laugh. “Wow,” he said softly. “Maybe not such a creampuff after all.”

Perhaps the guy would have more luck getting Sassy off her ass and prying her out of her room than he’d thought. He could only hope.

He watched until the clip ended, then looked down as he realized he’d begun absentmindedly rubbing himself over his jeans. “What the fuck,” he whispered, and got up, pacing the room until his erection subsided. He would have loved to take a cold shower, but he was still on Sassy-duty for another couple hours, a thought which sobered his unexpected arousal completely.

Leaving the room and relocking the door, he went back upstairs, pausing outside Sassy’s door. The television still blared inside. He made his way back downstairs, once again passing Tate in the hallway. “She hasn’t moved,” Tate said.

“Okay, thanks. I’m gonna grab a sandwich, you want anything?”

“I’m good,” Tate said.

While Bodie made his sandwich in the kitchen, his thoughts drifted back to Jay Capello, who he’d be spending the summer with. That is, if the guy didn’t quit before he got started. He recalled Eben’s parting words.

“It’s your job to make sure Jay doesn’t cave within a week. Got it?”

It was going to be a challenge. For both of them.

Chapter Two

“You dumb shit! You haven’t got the sense to spit downward. What’s the matter with you? I swear Jay, I wonder sometimes if you’ve got shit for brains. This is the stupidest idea I ever heard.”

Jay’s mother sat on the edge of his bed, watching him pack, long fingernails drumming her coffee cup. She was the only person on the planet who could get away with talking to him like that. Or rather normally she could get away with it. But Jay was feeling defensive about his on-the-spot decision yesterday to take the job with Eben Wright, a defense born of doubt. He wasn’t sure what niggling subconscious fear was making him second guess things, but part of him agreed with his mother’s shit-for-brains assessment of the decision, and therefore he argued vehemently in favor of it.

“It’s not a stupid idea, it’s a great idea. I’m lucky it came along. With the lawsuit, I could end up penniless after all my hard work.”

“Hey, was Ingrid there?” his brother Anthony asked. “She’s fucking
hot
.”

“Watch your mouth, Anthony!” his mother said. She gave her other son a light swat on the back of the head.

Anthony jerked back, wincing. “What the hell, Mom! You were just swearing.”

“I’m the mother, I can do what I want.”

Jay shook his head as he dug through his drawers. His mother and Anthony had come by with the excuse that they wanted to ‘help’ him pack, though they’d done nothing but sit around talking since their arrival. He knew it was more likely they wanted to grill him for details about his famous new client. They were both taking the stance that the job was a dumb idea. But then they’d also told him years back that becoming a fitness instructor was a dumb idea, though those grumblings had quieted somewhat since the success he’d achieved.

Jay had remained close with his family in adulthood, especially since his father’s death four years ago. They were good, working class people, and his brothers had found their own moderate success in various trades. But the family hadn’t had much money growing up, and that hardship seemed to have stuck with them to some degree. It was a strange defense mechanism that drove Jay crazy—his family automatically viewed anyone with wealth as an asshole who ‘thought they were better’ than everyone else.

“Ingrid wasn’t there,” Jay said. “Just Eben.”

“Bet you wish you were gonna be working out Eben instead of his kid!” Anthony quipped, making a blowjob gesture toward his mouth.

“Anthony!” his mother scolded.

Jay sighed. Anthony’s way of bonding was to be as blunt and disgusting as possible with regards to Jay’s homosexuality. Jay didn’t let it bother him, as he knew that in some twisted regard, it was Anthony’s way of letting him know he was all right with it.

“I still think this is a stupid idea,” his mother said.

“This will give me security, Mom. Look, I’m glad you guys came by, I really am. But I’m doing this, and I don’t want to fight.”

“When are you leaving?” she demanded.

“I start the job tomorrow.”

She huffed. “Moving into their guest house like a damned servant. Why would you need to live there? It’s not like you’ll be training the little princess twenty-four hours a day. You don’t need this job, Jay. Not for nothing, but all your negative thinking is what gets you into trouble. Nothing’s gonna pan out with that ridiculous lawsuit if you just think positive.”

“Oh, thinking positive will stop the fitness center from stealing all my money, will it? You’ve been reading too much Deepak Chopra, Mom. I need to have a backup plan, in case we lose.”

His mother stopped clicking her nails on her cup and looked up, cocking an eyebrow at him. She pointed. “Don’t you mouth off to me; I don’t care how old you are. And better Deepak Chopra than that damned science fiction religion your new boss will have you joining.”

“Eben Wright is not a scientologist.”

“Whatever! You know nothing about teenage girls.”

“I’ve been researching like crazy, and I talked to her doctor. It’s not all that different from training an adult woman.”

His mother swung her legs off the bed and stood, setting down her cup and putting a hand on her hip. Theresa Capello was a small-boned woman, birdlike in her floral print sundress. But standing by the edge of the bed, looking at Jay with those piercing eyes, pinched mouth, and upward tilt of her pointy chin, she radiated authority. That this tiny woman could still intimidate him was pathetic. But he suspected he wasn’t the only grown man still a little afraid of his mother.

“I’m not talking about the training,” she said. “I’m talking about a fifteen-year-old girl. You never had a sister. You know nothing about girls that age.”

Jay chuckled. “I think I knew a thing or two about girls that age when
I
was
fifteen myself. I used to be confused about my sexuality, if you’ll recall.”

She pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket with a long, manicured fingernail. Jay flinched, but said nothing. She knew her smoking bugged her son, and was likely doing it to vex him, but he refused to take the bait.

Lighting up, she blew a funnel of smoke as she leaned in. “You think because you fondled a few training bras in your youth, you know anything about girls?”

“I train women for a living, Mom.”

“Teenage girls are not women. They’re monsters.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Angry, insecure, full of hormones and ready to fall in love with the first pretty face that comes along. How are you gonna handle it if this kid gets a crush on you?”

Jay pulled a sour face. “Jesus, Mom, don’t be sick. And I’m sure Sassy Wright has her sights set a bit younger. And likely a whole lot richer.”

“And a whole lot better looking,” Anthony contributed. “Fetus-face.”

“Very mature, Anthony,” Jay said.

Jay’s mother gave him a smile that was both loving and sly. “Jay, my beloved son. You’re a moron.”

“Why?”

“Tell me something, honey. Why do you think your fitness class was so successful? Why do you think your DVD sold so well?”

Jay tensed as he zipped up the suitcase, sensing he was about to be eviscerated somehow. “Because it’s good, and it works.”

“It is good. You’ve got a talent for this, I’m not denying that. But the level of success you’ve achieved wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t look like a California pinup boy, grown man or not.”

He winced. “That’s a load of crap.”

“You’ve got that boyish face, approachable, unthreatening. That’s why the middle-aged ladies love you and trust you.”

“Mom, you’ve always been a master of the compliment-insult combination, but this is by far the worst punch you’ve ever thrown. I’ve busted my ass to get where I am.”

Anthony snorted. “I’m sure
someone
busted your ass.”

Jay tossed his brother a tired sneer. “Don’t start, Anthony.”

“Hey,” his brother said. “You’re not missing Paul’s barbecue, are you?”