Greek (Palm South University)

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, extending a hand up for mine. “I only do it so I can stare at you without a shirt on.”

I grab her hand and help her stand, laughing off the comment. When she’s up, I don’t miss the guys on the benches behind her letting their eyes wander every inch.

She’s wearing tiny black workout shorts, similar to those a volleyball player might wear, and a matching black sports bra. It’s strappy in the back, but otherwise plain. But it’s not the outfit that draws everyone’s attention — it’s the body wearing it.

I knew Giselle was fit. I could tell even under her suits she wore in the office. But seeing her rippled midriff, her toned arms, her muscular legs with nothing covering them? There’s no doubt in my mind that while I may be pushing her or challenging her with different exercises than she’s used to, she’s no stranger to hard work in the gym.

After toweling off her face, she lets the white cloth hang around her neck, squirting a healthy amount of water in her mouth. “You’re really good at this, Clinton.”

“Thank you.”

“No, I mean it. Really good. I’ve worked with other trainers, and they’re not like this. They don’t check in, they don’t offer nutrition guidance — at least, not past what I can easily research myself online. I feel so much stronger ever since you calculated my macros, since you taught me how to give my body the proper nutrition it needs.”

“You were starving yourself before. It doesn’t surprise me that you were tired all the time.”

She shrugs. “I thought caloric and fat deficiency was the key. Thanks for teaching me otherwise.” She pauses, assessing me. “How many other clients do you have?”

“Just a few. I can’t take on too many — not right now, anyway. I need to stay focused on my real job.”

“What if this was your real job?”

I blanch at her question, toweling off my neck before I take a seat on one of the benches. When I don’t answer, Giselle crooks a smile and plops down next to me.

“Think about it. You understand fitness. You understand nutrition. You know how they work together. You get joy out of helping others, right?”

I nod a little more with each statement.

“And you have a degree in graphic design, with experience in client management and a little HTML knowledge, too. I mean, you could literally run your own business.” She pauses. “If you wanted to.”

I lift my brows, turning to face her. “I never thought of that.”

“Well, now you have,” she says with a smile. Her eyes are warm, almost playful as she watches me. She opens her mouth to say something else, but before she can, my phone rings, the sound making both of us jolt a little.

“Hey, babe,” I answer. “Finishing up training with Giselle. Can I call you right back?”

“Of course. I’ve got about forty-five minutes before my next class.”

“Give me ten.”

When I hang up, I know there’s a goofy grin on my face, and Giselle pokes her finger right where I know my cheek indents a bit when I smile like that.

“Whew, you are smitten, aren’t you?” she teases.

I blow out a breath. “You have no idea.”

“She must be something.”

“She is,” I say, showing Giselle the picture on my background. “And let’s just say the road here wasn’t an easy one.”

Giselle whistles, taking my phone and studying Erin. “She’s gorgeous. I’d say you’re a lucky guy, but since I know you, I think the luck is mutual between you both.”

“Thanks,” I say with a shrug, taking my phone and tucking it away again. “But trust me — I’m very much the lucky one.”

Giselle doesn’t say anything but smiles and looks at her watch. “Alright, I guess I should get going. Dinner meeting with a client,” she adds with an eye roll. “But let’s touch base about the next month — because I’m officially hiring you as my trainer and nutritionist.”

“You already paid me.”

“Well, I’m going to pay you more.”

I grab my neck. “Well, thank you, I guess. I’ll make a plan for the next four weeks. Just so you know, I’m doing a little traveling at the beginning of November.”

“Oh? Where to?”

“Just going home for the weekend. Pittsburgh,” I clarify when I see her frown of confusion. “Erin’s never been, and I want to show her around where I grew up.”

“Erin is the girlfriend, I presume?”

I nod. “It’s just for the weekend, though, so it shouldn’t affect our training.”

Giselle frowns, standing when I do. “You’re flying all that way just for a weekend?”

“No paid time off yet,” I say with a shrug.

Giselle’s mouth tugs to the side, then she waves her hand in the air like she’s batting away a fly. “Take a longer weekend, maybe a Wednesday to Sunday.”