The Fastest Way to Fall

WesTheBear: Just a Bears fan. Your question illuminates why I’ve been getting so many invitations for dates on here for so long.

Bmoney34: LOL. I’m here to help. I think Tube Sock fits you better, anyway.

WesTheBear: I’m not sure that would lessen the weird emails.

Bmoney34: It must be so hard to be a man online today. So much unwanted attention.

WesTheBear: You have no idea.

Bmoney34: Are you still at work?

WesTheBear: Home. Why?

Bmoney34: Just wondering if you were burning the midnight oil talking to clients.

WesTheBear: Just you.



I grinned at his comment, wandering into the kitchen.


Bmoney34: Good. I hate sharing.

WesTheBear: Kindergarten must have been rough for you.

Bmoney34: The absolute worst. If the FitMi plan involves sharing my box of crayons, you have your work cut out for you.

WesTheBear: I’ll only ask for temporary use of green.

Bmoney34: Hmm . . . regular green or one of the fancy ones?

WesTheBear: Fancy ones?

Bmoney34: Wes, what am I going to do with you? When I hit my next milestone, I’ll tell you about the fancy greens. A tit-for-tat thing.

WesTheBear: You paid for coaching with real money.

Bmoney34: Details.

WesTheBear: Speaking of, how’d the class go? Aside from the average age of your fellow dancers.

Bmoney34: I always love it! I measured my heart rate like you suggested, and it was pumping.

WesTheBear: What was it?

Bmoney34: 145. That’s good, right?

WesTheBear: Right in the target zone.

Bmoney34: So, can you help me figure out what in my fridge will make a good dinner? Is that part of the service?

WesTheBear: Show me what we’re working with.

Bmoney34: [Photo attached] Slim pickings. I haven’t had time to go grocery shopping. All this produce you have me eating goes bad fast. Your fridge probably looks like an aisle at Whole Foods, huh?

WesTheBear: [Photo attached]



I clapped my hand over my mouth and giggled. His open refrigerator contained beer and water, a few bottles of a blue power drink, several yogurt containers, and a jar of mustard.


Bmoney34: Should I trust you to give me nutrition advice? Where is your food?

WesTheBear: That mustard has some nutrients in it. The yogurt, too, before it expired.

Bmoney34: When did it expire?

WesTheBear: Let’s focus on you.



Wes sent me a link to the site’s nutrition section and cookbook. He told me they’d added some of his recipes to the “weeknight meals” section. I was pleasantly surprised to find an easy, tasty dish I could make using some frozen turkey meatballs. We chatted about food and cooking while I made dinner, and I took an artful photo of the finished product.


Bmoney34: [Photo attached] What do you think?

WesTheBear: Bon appétit raises a jar of mustard to you

Bmoney34: This is the weirdest Valentine’s Day dinner I’ve ever had.

Bmoney34: Not that this is a date or anything, of course.



He hadn’t responded, and I blew out a frustrated breath. I would be damned if Claire got to move ahead without me because I’d weirded out my coach. He thankfully ignored the comment, though.


WesTheBear: Any reason you didn’t upload a photo for your starting image? Lots of people like seeing their progress.



I’d told myself it was to protect my privacy, but it was more than that. I’d never liked seeing before-and-after photos, because looking more like the before than the after photo always made me feel like I had work to do, even when I was perfectly happy with my photo on its own. Claire and I had agreed to not do that for this project, not that I could explain that to Wes.


Bmoney34: I didn’t have a good photo.

WesTheBear: That seems like a poor excuse . . .

Bmoney34: Am I that transparent?

WesTheBear: I think you have a phone with a camera, is all. It’s okay—you don’t have to post. Some people like to see the changes as they go through the program—not that you’re doing it to change.

WesTheBear: I’m sure you’re beautiful just as you are.



Aside from my parents and my best friends, no adult had ever called me beautiful, not since my high school boyfriend, Calvin. I wasn’t sure how to respond, because my heart hammered.


Bmoney34: That’s a good line. You should take on a side hustle coaching for a dating site.

WesTheBear: My track record is better with fitness. New homework?

Bmoney34: Hit me, Tube Sock.

WesTheBear: Stock the fridge again, but this weekend, make a meal plan, and prep as much as possible ahead of time. Here are three links to a shopping guide, a list of easy make-ahead meals, and resources on meal planning in general.

Bmoney34: I can do that. Ready for your homework?

WesTheBear: Who’s the coach here?

Bmoney34: Tit for tat, remember?



While I waited for his response and enjoyed the last bite of my tasty dinner, I found the email I’d sent Ben the night before. He hadn’t responded to my invitation to watch basketball.


WesTheBear: Okay. Tit for tat. What’s my homework?

Bmoney34: Same assignment. You need more than mustard.

WesTheBear: For you, I will buy ketchup.





16





“YOU’RE IN A good mood,” Mason commented, sliding a stack of printouts across the table in our office. “And I doubt it has anything to do with the way my team has been crushing it in the last month.” He raised his voice when he said “crushing,” and adopted a singsong tone.

He was an ass, but he was good at his job. In the month since Valentine’s Day, we’d run a series of ads featuring our coaches sharing what they learned at different stages of their education and training. It had worked to feature some coaches who were hot, according to Mason’s team, despite my initial protests. Since the previous month, our new registrations were up, and we seemed to be outpacing HottrYou.

Mason lowered his voice as if this were a private, male-bonding moment. “C’mon, don’t hold out on me. You’re finally getting laid, right?”

“Anyway,” Cord interjected, reading my expression. “Tell us what’s next.”

Mason returned to his tablet, speaking as he scrolled. “It would be nice if we had an inside source at HottrYou.”

Cord huffed out a short laugh. “Kelsey didn’t give anything up when you met with her last month, did she?”

“No.” I looked down at the printouts, colorful charts of market share and cost projections. “Not really.”

I saw Mason’s stare out of the corner of my eye. “Want to elaborate?”

“No.”

“C’mon, Wes. I’m trying to do my job here.” Mason’s ever-present smirk shifted to a frustrated grimace. “Nothing at all we could use?”

“It was personal.”

Cord shot me a curious look across the table. I’d been purposefully vague about the meeting with Kelsey. Cord was my best friend, but Kelsey and I shared something different, even after breaking up. She’d grown up like me, with an emotionally abusive mom and her dad in and out of prison. No matter how badly it had ended between us, she’d been there for me back then. We’d darkly called ourselves the fucked-up families club, and it was members only.

“Fine,” Mason said. He walked us through the data, detailing how the initiatives were playing out in different markets. When he advised we change our font colors, I tuned out of the conversation. Cord was following along, and I knew I should care, but I just didn’t. I jotted down some notes on the legal pad in front of me about ideas for working with the kids. We were running a weeklong training program with them at the end of the summer and then paying some of our coaches to mentor. Through Jake and Naya, we had hired a college student she worked with to help us. Quinn was studying education and was eager to join in. It was all coming together, and we were ready to work with the student leaders within the next couple months.

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