The Shape of You Read online

  Rebecca didn’t respond to the message but didn’t delete her either.

  She poured herself a glass of the cucumber water in the fridge, then took it into the living room where she flopped onto her couch and picked up her Kindle. As Veruca Salt made herself a new bed on her stomach, Rebecca discovered that she wasn’t really in the mood to read, her mind wandering. Kindle returned to the coffee table, she ran her fingers along the white softness of her cat.

  “I’m not really looking for a relationship, Ruke. Right? I mean, a date here and there would be nice. Somebody to go to a movie with or out to dinner? But I don’t need a relationship.” Body humming with her purrs, the cat looked at Rebecca, gave a very slow blink of her huge green eyes. “Besides, those sites make me feel awful about myself.” It was true. More than once, she’d found a profile and photo that intrigued her, sent a message, and never heard anything back. Rebecca was not a woman who needed a shot of confidence; she did just fine in that department. But unanswered messages, she found, would often mess with her head. Start a barrage of questions that were very unlike her. Did she see my photo and find me unattractive and delete me? Which was fair enough, as she’d done the same thing multiple times, so she couldn’t really complain about that. Still. More questions. Is my profile lacking somehow? Am I unappealing and just don’t realize it? What’s wrong with me that she isn’t responding? All these questions would swirl in her mind until she literally had to talk to her own reflection in the mirror, remind herself that she was attractive, she was intelligent, she was worthy…things she’d never had to focus on before.

  It was exhausting.

  And just like she did every time she checked the dating sites, she silently cursed Sherry and Nick and Michelle for talking her into signing up. Then she cursed herself for letting them talk her into signing up.

  Absently, she wondered if Spencer Thompson had found her fiancée through a dating site…

  With a groan and a shake of her head, she stretched for the TV remote and clicked it on. She needed something to pull her mind out of the dating sinkhole it was being sucked toward.

  Chapter Four

  “All ready for day two?” Lucy asked Spencer as they passed each other in the locker room. Lucy was cheerful and bubbly and dressed in a pair of loose-fitting red nylon shorts and a black tank top.

  “I am,” Spencer replied, pasting on a smile. “Not dreading it at all.”

  Which was, of course, a giant lie, because she’d been dreading it all day long, since the moment Marti had left the house that morning. Her parting words, “this is going to be so good for you,” followed by a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek, only served to remind Spencer about the class. She’d conveniently put it out of her mind, but it came screeching back in then and had poked at her for the next eight hours.

  “Meet you out there,” Lucy said, and bounced out of the locker room.

  Spencer was running late. It couldn’t be helped; an issue had cropped up at the real estate office where she worked and the agent in the middle of it needed her help in a big way. Things had been resolved but had Spencer leaving the office twenty minutes later than she’d intended.

  With a frustrated groan, she changed into her workout clothes, pulled her hair back, tied on her Nikes, and hurried out to the gym. She found Rebecca easily—her form-fitting top was bright royal blue today. The other members of her class were all on recumbent bikes, Rebecca leaning on the last empty one. Spencer tried hard not to notice her figure, the gentle curves in all the right places, soft-looking skin showing at her throat, her calves. She failed, of course, sexy thoughts running rampant through her head. Rebecca turned then, and that intense, blue-eyed gaze fell on Spencer, causing butterflies to take flight in her stomach.

  “There you are,” Rebecca said, her tone making it clear she noticed Spencer’s tardiness and wasn’t thrilled about it.

  “Sorry.” Spencer flushed and watched as those sexy thoughts in her head evaporated like morning fog on a pond. “Work.”

  Rebecca stepped away from the bike, gestured at it with a small flourish. “Your chariot awaits.”

  Spencer sat down and stretched her legs beyond straight in an attempt to reach the pedals.

  “Slide your seat forward.”

  Craning her neck this way and that, Spencer had trouble locating the correct lever until Rebecca sighed and leaned very close to Spencer. They made eye contact and continued it as Rebecca reached between Spencer’s legs. Spencer held her breath, totally mesmerized by Rebecca’s eyes. Yeah, the sexy thoughts were back.

  “Slide forward,” Rebecca quietly ordered.

  Spencer did so and suddenly, their faces were mere inches apart. Spencer’s focus dropped to Rebecca’s mouth; she couldn’t help it. There was a moment. A beat. It held…

  Rebecca stood quickly, almost jerked away from Spencer, who blinked in surprise. “Warm up. Fifteen minutes at level five.” Then she was gone, scurrying away from Spencer as if she’d been shoved in that direction.

  “So glad I could piss off the teacher on my second day,” Spencer muttered, then poked buttons on the bike’s touch screen until she’d set it correctly.

  She liked biking. She decided that immediately. She could feel her lower body working right away. Her quads, her calves, even her ass all got in on the action. At the same time, she could let her mind wander. Or watch TV, she saw, as the touch screen had a small square that looked to be showing a scene from Grey’s Anatomy. Whatever she chose to do, it was an almost relaxing way to get some activity, which was an odd thing to think about exercise, but it was true.

  To her left, Brittany, Bella, and Willow had all stopped pedaling and were chattering about their respective stats. Spencer squinted at her own screen, saw that it measured distance, calories burned, and average speed, among other things.

  “I was going, like, seventeen miles an hour there for a bit,” Bella said. A glance at her screen told Spencer she was going eleven miles per hour.

  Lucy must have seen her grimace because she tapped her on the shoulder and said quietly, “Don’t listen to them. Doesn’t matter.” Her face was glistening with a sheen of sweat and her breathing was rapid, and it occurred to Spencer that maybe Lucy was as new to this gym thing as she was. She sent a nod Lucy’s way but picked up her own pace anyway.

  An hour later, she and Lucy were both in the locker room, sweating and flushed. Spencer dropped down to the bench, elbows on her knees, and let her head hang down as she did her best to catch her breath and bring her racing heart down to normal levels.

  “Wow,” Lucy said, spinning the dial on her lock. “That was something, huh?”

  Spencer was glad the other three women from their class were in another aisle of the room. To her, they only amplified how out of shape she was. Lucy seemed to see it differently.

  “I’m really liking this so far. I think it’s going to help my body and my mind, you know?”

  Spencer looked up at her.

  “I mean, I’m never going to be a size four,” she went on. “And that’s fine. I accepted that a long, long time ago, believe me. I’m just me. You know? But now I’ll be me, stronger.” Her smile was contagious, and Spencer grinned back at her. “You just have to compete with yourself. Nobody else.”

  Spencer nodded, understanding the concept. But knowing that and putting it into practice would be easier said than done for her. “I think I’m competing with Rebecca’s expectations,” she said, with a slight scoff.

  Lucy wrinkled her nose. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t think she likes me.”

  It was Lucy’s turn to scoff. “Nah.” She waved a dismissive hand. “She’s just tough.”

  Maybe Lucy was right. Maybe it’s just me. It wasn’t like Rebecca wasn’t hard on all of them; she was. It just felt…harder…to Spencer. Rebecca didn’t say anything, it was her attitude, almost an aura of disappointment when she was around Spencer. Was she being paranoid? It was possible. Though after the eye contact on
the bike, Rebecca didn’t look at her again for the rest of the session. Well, she looked at her—it would be difficult not to and still do her job—but she hadn’t looked her in the eye. Again. Spencer was big on eye contact, so having somebody avoid it on purpose was punishingly obvious to her.

  Lucy bid her goodbye and Spencer took her time gathering her things. Having no desire to take a shower in a public place, she didn’t bother changing her clothes. She’d just go home and shower there. The locker rooms were on the first floor, the main entrance to BodyFit on the second, so Spencer had to come upstairs in order to then go down the front stairs and out the door. As she passed the smoothie bar and approached the front desk, she noticed Rebecca leaning on the counter and talking to a middle-aged woman with short red hair. The woman must have said something funny because Rebecca threw her head back and laughed, a shockingly feminine and contagious sound. Spencer found herself smiling as she passed. Rebecca spared her a glance, but quickly turned back to the redhead without another word.

  See? Not just me.

  Spencer shook her head, picked up her pace, and pushed her way out of the gym. The atmosphere felt suddenly heavy and thick, oppressive. Spencer wanted to be out of there. She needed to be out of there.

  * * *

  “Who was that?” Sherry asked, then sucked on the fat green straw in her smoothie.

  Rebecca watched Spencer’s back as she exited the building, all the while feeling Sherry’s eyes on her. “Nobody.”

  “Wait.” Sherry said that one word in such a way that Rebecca had no choice but to turn and meet her gaze. “Is that the one? The one whose fiancée made her go to class?”

  Rebecca nodded. “That’s her.”

  “She’s pretty,” Sherry said. “Not terribly out of shape from what I can see.”

  “No. She’s not.” Rebecca had to agree with that.

  Sherry made a show now of craning her neck to see out the window into the parking lot. “And drives a hot little car from what I can tell.”

  “That’s nice.” Rebecca pushed herself off the counter, ready to finish up some things at her desk before heading home.

  “Becks.”

  Damn it. Sherry’s tone stopped her in her tracks. She was the only adult who could still do that. She was also the only person on the planet besides Nick who was allowed to use a shortened version of her name. Rebecca turned back to face her mentor.

  “Don’t you be extra rough on that girl.”

  “I won’t,” Rebecca said as she walked away, trying not to sound defensive, but pretty sure she failed.

  “I’ve met you,” Sherry called after her. “I know you.”

  It was a little bit of an issue Rebecca had. Being a tiny speck…judgmental when it came to this subject. She knew it, but that didn’t mean she wanted to discuss it, even with Sherry, who knew her history. Rebecca had spent most of her teen years watching her mother do everything her father said, barely thinking for herself. It didn’t matter that she seemed perfectly fine in that life; Rebecca hated to watch it. She wanted to shout at her mother, “Speak up! Say something! Stand up for yourself!” But none of those things ever happened, and Rebecca, despite her deep love for her mother, thought of her as weak. Because of that, she made an immediate assessment of anybody who behaved in a similar way. Whether or not she spent any time getting to know them, she formed an opinion about them. An often unfavorable one.

  Had she done that with Spencer Thompson?

  Rebecca snorted as she sat down at her desk. Of course she had. Instantly. Spencer was only in the bride class because her fiancée said she should be. That told Rebecca all she needed to know about Spencer’s self-worth (she had very little), her backbone (or lack thereof), her level of self-esteem (low). Rebecca had labeled Spencer weak before she even realized it, but it was pretty clear Spencer Thompson was exactly that.

  Wasn’t she?

  “You judge too fast and too harshly.”

  Sherry’s voice startled Rebecca enough to make her jump. “For God’s sake,” she ground out, hand pressed to her chest.

  Sherry gathered her things from her desk. “You do. You always have, and we both know it.” Keys jangling in her hand, she said, “I have to go pick up my kids.” She kissed Rebecca on the top of her head and added, “Give the girl a chance before you write her off. Everybody deserves a chance, you know? You don’t even know her story.” With a half shrug and her signature grin, she left.

  Rebecca blew out a breath and tried to push Sherry’s words out of her head for the time being.

  Bobby Pine and his perpetual smile helped with that chore. “I’m having an awesome day, Rebecca. How about you?” He held out his closed fist as he walked by and Rebecca dutifully bumped it.

  “I’m doing okay, Bob.”

  “You can do better than okay!” He turned to her and walked backward, shot his fist up in the air like a cheerleader, then turned around and kept walking.

  * * *

  “Hey, I need a favor.” Jennifer stopped in front of Spencer’s desk.

  “Sure,” Spencer said, as she gathered her purse and gym bag together and tried to force herself not to bail on the gym.

  “Oh, you’ve got class again tonight. I forgot.” Jennifer grinned. “Happy Hour after? A couple of us are heading to Mack’s.”

  “Maybe.” Marti had texted that she’d be working late that Friday night, and Spencer was pretty sure she’d be ready for a drink after her workout. “What favor do you need?”

  Jennifer sighed. “Can you run my open house on Carlson Street on Sunday? It’s just a two to four. I double-booked myself like an idiot.”

  “No problem.” Open houses were easy. Spencer had run dozens of them in the years she’d been with the firm. “Text me the details.”

  “You’re the best,” Jennifer said, clapping her hands together once. “Now go have fun working those muscles.”

  “Yeah, fun isn’t a word I associate with this class.”

  “No? It should be. I love working out.” Jennifer rubbed Spencer’s upper arm as she passed. “Just give it time. You’ll grow to really like it.”

  Spencer didn’t see that happening, but she smiled at Jennifer anyway, not wanting to burst the bubble of friendly support she’d created. The fact was, Spencer dreaded this class. Not because of the exercise—she actually liked the feeling she had afterward; the soreness in her muscles made her feel accomplished—but because of the instructor and the mean girls. Lucy was a bright spot, though, so Spencer tried to focus on her, on her sunny disposition that could light up just about any room.

  Twenty minutes later, Spencer was dressed for physical activity and pedaling away on the recumbent bike to warm up. Rebecca strolled down the line of her brides-to-be, chatting with Willow, then asking Lucy what she did for a living (kindergarten teacher, was Lucy’s answer). When she reached Spencer’s bike, Spencer did her best to be friendly and open, even smiling at her. But Rebecca didn’t see the smile because she didn’t look at her face. Only the screen on her bike.

  “You can push harder than that.” Rebecca tapped the bike’s level up two, then turned and walked back the way she’d come.

  Spencer rolled her eyes.

  Fifteen minutes after that, Spencer and Brittany were on leg press machines. Rebecca watched Brittany, complimented her on her form and speed.

  “Good work. Really good work. Five more.”

  She then turned her attention to Spencer, who was doing exactly the same thing at exactly the same speed as Brittany.

  “Slow it down,” Rebecca said, her tone stern and her eyes on Spencer’s legs. “Controlled movements.”

  “Okay,” Spencer said, and consciously slowed down the press.

  “Wait. Stop.” Rebecca held up a hand. “Rack ’em.”

  Spencer obeyed, let the weights reach their resting spot.

  Rebecca reached down, pulled out the pin, and pushed it back in at a lower spot. “You can lift more than that. You aren’t big on challenging yo
urself, are you?” She didn’t say it in a light or joking manner. She was dead serious, even sounding a bit irritated to Spencer, who clenched her teeth together to keep from saying something snarky back. Something like Oh, I don’t know. Working with you has presented quite a challenge. But she’d been raised to be polite. If you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all. Her mother’s words. Spencer kept quiet, a little surprised when she actually lifted the new weight.

  Half an hour later, all five brides-to-be were finishing up their session stretched out on foam mats, in plank positions, lined up on the floor like piano keys and holding themselves up on their toes and forearms. “Super Freak” was blasting over the speakers as Rebecca strolled in front of them, her phone in her hand, running her timer for sixty seconds, encouraging them by talking about core strength and how important it was to their overall health. While Spencer was admittedly pleased that this activity was hard for every single one of them, she was not pleased by Rebecca’s barking at her when her midsection dropped down to the floor about thirty seconds in.

  “No. Get that ass in the air. Come on.”

  Spencer felt a toe tap at her hip and she ground her teeth, pretty sure Rebecca hadn’t singled out anybody else. She milked a couple more seconds of rest before pushing herself back up, every muscle in her body shaking with tremors. A drop of sweat ran from her hairline down her forehead and to the tip of her nose, then dripped off onto her clasped hands.

  The timer sounded, and all five women dropped to the ground with groans of relief. Next to her, she heard Lucy mutter, “Goddamn.”

  “Agreed,” Spencer muttered, lungs heaving.

  “Did she kick you?” Lucy asked, keeping her voice low.