The Fastest Way to Fall

“Sure, Mom.” I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to remind her. “It’s her birthday today. She’s twenty-three now.”

“God, I got old. I had two kids by that age. She’ll be fine.” Her words slurred and then halted, like she’d dropped the phone. “You should find a nice girl. A pretty one who doesn’t run.”

I didn’t have heart-to-heart conversations with my mom. I didn’t know what she thought about Libby leaving, but every time she said She’ll be fine and told me not to worry, I tensed. “Do you need money? Is that why you called?”

“A little wouldn’t hurt.”

I nodded and told her I’d get it to her. Disconnecting the call, I checked for a reply from Libby for no real reason, and then tossed my phone aside, pushing my palms against my eyes again, the silence of my office overtaking me. I hated that I felt so raw after talking to her. I should have been used to it after so many years.

What a damned mess. My sister’s gone, Mom’s barely functioning, and the person I thought I’d spend my life with is trying to destroy my company.

My desktop notification for the coaching portal pinged. B. I still didn’t know what to make of her. She was funny. I bet she had a nice smile. As I read her reply, I imagined what it would be like to be with someone who smiled easily. I remembered her question about stress relief. Dancing is good cardio. I could use some loud music and a warm body against me.

C’mon, Wes. Get it fucking together. I’d never send something like that to a client. There were a few types of men I swore I’d never be. I’d never abandon my kids like my own father had; I’d never use women to meet my own needs. I’d never take advantage of someone who trusted me. I tapped out a real response following a deep breath.



From: FitMiCoachWes1

To: Bmoney34

Sent: February 8, 10:50 a.m.


B,


Rough day here, too. I like to run when I’m stressed, but take a hot bath? Go for a walk? Go punch an inanimate object? The ice cream is tasty, so if you want some, check out the serving size information for reference. As for rom-coms, I got nothing. Trust your gut! Here’s an article on our site about stress.


Do you want to talk about it?


T.S.



Pearl’s voice made me look up from my phone. “Mason said he has options for you and Cord when you’re ready. I figured you might want some time after your phone call, so I told him you weren’t free until one.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Pearl. I appreciate everything. You’re . . .” I was going to say something overly emotional that she would wave off. Instead, I corrected and just repeated, “Thank you.”

“Need anything else?”

I shook my head. “Thanks.”

“You can stop thanking me.”

“Never.”

“Can you say it with bonus checks, then?”

“That, I can do.” She held up a hand when I opened my mouth to thank her and then closed my door.

A notification sounded, and I glanced at the screen.



From: Bmoney34

To: FitMiCoachWes1

Sent: February 8, 11:05 a.m.


“T.S.” makes you sound like a very classy author of obscure and unreadable books. I like it. I want a cool nickname, too. Get on that, will you, Coach?


I’ll walk home and then take a hot bath. Is wine allowed? Please say yes. Your method of running it out sounds awful, but I guess that’s why you’re the coach and I need one. Hope your day gets better.


No need to bore you with details. I suspect I’m already taking up more of your time than you planned. You can tell me if I am emailing too much. I’m in unfamiliar territory here, but you’re the pro. How long have you worked for the company?


B



She didn’t need to know I ran the company. I didn’t want her to treat me any differently. Anyway, it wasn’t about me. It was about her reaching her goals. Her goals of looking and feeling good naked. And now I’m thinking about this smiling stranger I don’t even have a picture of in the bathtub, smooth wet skin sinking into bubbles, because I’m going to hell.

“There might be something wrong with me,” I muttered, trying to push the image away. Running would get me out of my head. I had experience compartmentalizing the difficult stuff—there was a special place in my head where I sent Libby, my mom, and Kelsey—and usually staying in work mode kept the feelings at bay. I glanced at the notes on my desk about the potential high school fitness peer education ideas. Between that and coaching again, this was the first time in a long time something even remotely good took my mind off things.

Shaking my head, I grabbed my keys and phone. I had time to go home, change, and get a run in before hearing Mason’s ideas on how to deal with HottrYou.





11





LIKED BY ALLISON_LOVES_COWBOYS83 AND 791 OTHERS


Three Things I Like About FitMi So Far




Tracking my food was a pain at first, but it’s become a habit now. I never thought this would motivate me, but you get badges in the app when you meet your goals. I love those flippin’ badges, plus you can customize everything so it’s not one-size-fits-all.




The app is easy to use. I’m always turned off by a poorly designed user interface. This one is intuitive and engaging.




The coaching. Having someone to help me stay accountable has been what I’ve needed. He gives me feedback on my food and exercise choices and is supportive without ever making me feel guilty or ashamed or like I don’t know anything. I can’t say enough about the coaching.





From: FitMiCoachWes1

To: Bmoney34

Sent: February 8, 7:17 p.m.


B,


Sorry for the slow reply. It’s been a busy day.


Walk and a bath is a good plan. Here’s a link to our guide on alcohol. If you’re interested, the main thing to remember is moderation and that alcohol can leave you dehydrated. That said, a drunk message from you would be entertaining—or maybe terrifying since you nicknamed me “Tube Sock” when sober.


I’ve been with the company since the beginning, and you’re not taking too much of my time—you’re my client. I’m here for you.


T.S.



I read Wes’s message before slipping into my robe. It was almost eight at night, and I wondered if all the coaches provided this impressive level of personal service.



From: Bmoney34

To: FitMiCoachWes1

Sent: February 8, 7:43 p.m.


Tube Sock!


You would be so proud—not only did I walk home, but I took the long route. I don’t remember the last time I did that. It felt good.


Okay, that last part is a lie—I’m sweaty and my feet hurt, but I raise my one glass of pinot grigio to you anyway. My stress didn’t go away, but I feel better. I added the blocks of time for exercise to my calendar like you suggested and entered them in the app, so I can get reminders. What’s my next homework?


B


P.S. Did your day get better?



The claw-foot tub was a strange extravagance in an otherwise normal apartment. It didn’t match the rest of the decor, but having a tub I could sink into was a dream. All I needed was a lover admiring me from the doorway. I struck a particularly mermaidy pose at the thought.



From: FitMiCoachWes1

To: Bmoney34

Sent: February 8, 7:51 p.m.


B,


clinks glass I’m glad the walk was good. I know it’s a shift to start working out every day, but you’ve got this. Keep track of how much you do and how you feel. Same for food using those meal plan guides I sent. You’re doing a good job entering it on the app—make sure you click on my comments.


T.S.


P.S. Thanks for asking. I’ll be fine—can’t all be good days, right?



I bit my lip, curious what had been so stressful, wondering if I could make him smile with a joke. The best part about using the app so far was talking to Wes. Though I didn’t want to sound like a girl with a crush.



From: Bmoney34

To: FitMiCoachWes1

Sent: February 8, 8:07 p.m.


T.S.,


If your day got worse, I hope the drink is good, and that it’s not your only one.


What would drunk coaching be like, I wonder . . .


B

previous 1.. 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 ..72 next

Denise Williams's books