“Wait, this is your gym? It looks like a hotel. A fancy one.”
“This is the gym. Granted, the lobby is a bit over the top.”
Luke nodded toward the three-story glassed atrium that marked the entrance to the gym he belonged to. Inside, he scanned the marble floors, the bright, fresh floral arrangements and decided that Paige was probably pretty overwhelmed by it all. He pressed his thumb to the sensor and was admitted. He took her straight to the sporting goods store to be outfitted.
“That’s a fucking kayak,” she said as they walked past a display of outdoor goods.
“There’s a watercourse upstairs before you get to the lap pools.”
“Watercourse? Like a pretend river?”
“Yes.”
“How is that real? This is like a theme park.”
“This is a great place to work out. And I’m sure they can help outfit you with something so you can learn to play squash.”
He pointed to the salesperson approaching them, “My guest needs workout wear and shoes for squash. Please put it on my account.”
Thirty minutes later, he met Paige on a squash court. She was wearing a pink and white outfit that looked like something Workout Barbie would be dressed in, right down to pink tennis shoes and a high, bouncy ponytail. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She held a racquet as if she was already a pro.
“So, do I look ready?” she said.
“Yes. Do you like i
t?”
“It’s really pink, I know, but it’s fun. I figured if I’m playing dress up on someone else’s dime, might as well get something frivolous.”
“You mean you won’t be wearing this to the office anytime soon?”
“No. Definitely not. So, teach me how to do this. How do I squash?”
“It’s not a verb. You’re not going to squash things by stepping on them,” he said amused. “Let me show you how to start.”
Luke reached out and showed her how to grip her racquet. Then he demonstrated a couple of swings for her to try. She followed along gamely. He served and waited for her to hit the ball back to the wall, so he could receive. Instead, she hit the ball, lunged across on the bounce and hit it again, snagging the ball on the next three hits without a pause, essentially playing by herself. He stood back, hands on his hips.
“Maybe I didn’t explain that the object of the game is for us both to play.”
“What?”
“You’re kind of a one-man show here.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“I was becoming concerned that you misunderstood squash, believing it to be a UFC match where you were allowed to use racquets as a weapon. Let’s try again.”
Luke served, stepping over for her to receive and hit it back before he bobbed inward to strike the ball. She swiped it out from in front of him.
“Sorry. My bad,” she said with a giggle, “I’ll try harder.”
“Okay, let’s start again.”
She tried again with not so good results.
“How am I doing?” she said, panting, as she slammed into him to block the ball.
“You’re making me wonder why football pads aren’t standard issue equipment in squash.”