Not in the mood to whine about my parole officer being mean to me, I just nod.
Wrath swings the simple metal and glass door open wide and motions for me to go inside ahead of him.
The short hallway consists of light, shiny hardwood floors, leading to a larger area with a reception desk.
Classy place for a gym. Guess that’s why it’s called a studio instead.
Blue floor mats cover the rest of the area. Full length mirrors take up three walls. Beyond the reception area, I glimpse another room that seems to have more traditional weights and machines.
I peer up at Wrath. “Nice place.”
“He’s worked hard to build it up. You’ll like Sully.” He lifts his chin at the short woman behind the counter. “And his girl.”
“Hey, pixie.” Wrath’s lips curl up as he approaches her.
She lifts her head and grins, hurrying out from behind the counter. “Hey, Wrath.” Her gaze lands on me and she smiles even wider. “Welcome.”
“Grayson Lock, this is Aubrey Dorado. Sully would be lost without her. Aubrey, this is a good friend of mine, Grayson.”
Tiny woman. Big smile. Warm eyes. She holds out her hand for me to shake. “So happy to meet you.”
“Thank you.” I shake her hand quickly. Careful not to crush it.
“I know Sully’s looking forward to meeting you.” She turns and motions for us to follow her. We don’t get far before she stops and knocks on one of the closed doors to our right. She pushes it open without waiting for an answer.
The office is less glamorous than the rest of the place. Seems like the guy puts all his effort into the business and doesn’t waste money on frivolous bullshit for himself. I respect that.
The broad-shouldered, dark-haired guy behind the desk stands. All serious. No warm, sunny smiles, like his girlfriend. He nods to her. “Thanks, Aubrey.”
She touches my arm lightly. “See you in a bit,” she whispers, before ducking out and closing the door behind her.
“Wrath.” The guy walks around the side of his desk and nods. He holds his hand out to me and I shake it.
“Sullivan Wallace,” he introduces himself.
Wrath runs through the introductions again, making sure to work in that I’m a friend. As opposed to some random ex-con he plucked off the street, I guess.
Sullivan nods to the two chairs in front of his desk.
I glance at Wrath and then the door. But the fucker can’t or won’t take a hint. He ignores me and plops his bulky frame into the farthest chair. Apparently he’s committed to this whole dropping-grandpa-off-at-his-first-day-of-work thing we’re doing.
Sullivan focuses on me. “Wrath says you need a job?”
I thought this was a done deal.
Wrath sits forward.
“Yes. It’s a condition of my parole. That gonna be all right with you?” Might as well be direct.
“That’s not a problem.” His gaze strays to Wrath for a second. “We could use some help around here. Cleaning up. Keeping things neat. Towels replenished, stuff like that. A couple days a week.”
Wrath opens his mouth and I stop him with a hand on his arm.
“Sounds good,” I answer. “I can do all of that, no problem.”
Sullivan blows out a breath and his shoulders crawl away from his ears. “Great.” He stands and holds out his hand again. “Welcome to the Strike Back team. I’ll have Aubrey get you a shirt and we can talk about what hours work for you.”
“Thank you.” I grip his hand. “Appreciate it.”
The relief of having a purpose, a job to do, no matter how small, is immense and not something I take for granted.
Chapter Fourteen
Serena
Your past is behind you. Your future is uncertain. All you have is the now.
I save the Insta quote to reread later. Maybe I’ll print it out and post it on my mirror.
Even though I try to concentrate on work for the rest of the day, Grayson slips into my mind frequently.
My stomach flutters with excitement each time I realize I’ll see him tonight.
Seven can’t come soon enough.
It’s not until about six-thirty, when I’m finishing up paperwork, that it dawns on me that I have nothing to change into. Stonewall Cafe isn’t fancy. From what I remember, it’s a place where a lot of young professionals stop on their way home from work.
All I keep stored here are some gym clothes for nights I use the workout room. At least I have makeup in my purse.
After finishing my work for the day, I spend a few minutes in the bathroom fixing my face, and brushing my hair smooth from its ponytail prison.
My dorky work polo shirt sort of ruins the look but I can’t do much about it now.
Grayson’s waiting outside on the sidewalk when I emerge from the building. My greedy eyes gobble every inch of him as I hurry my steps. Rugged and handsome. He had time to go home and change into a crisp flannel shirt. He’s still casual, though, so we won’t look too odd together.