The Shape of You Page 9

  What is my deal with Spencer?

  Pretending she didn’t know the correct response only worked for so long, especially since she’d see Spencer the next day.

  Chapter Eight

  “Read ’em and weep, gentleman. And lady.” Dwayne Blair slapped down his cards, revealing a full house. “Read ’em and weep.”

  Groans went around the table as the other three guys and Rebecca threw their cards down in feigned disgust.

  “Are you cheating somehow?” asked Kevin Lippman, sandy brow furrowed.

  Dwayne’s brown eyes widened behind his glasses as he gasped, his handsome face an expression of horror. “How dare you?”

  “I don’t know, man,” said Nick, as he reached for his beer. “You used to suck at this game and now you’re cleaning us out. It’s suspicious.”

  “Damn right it is.” Dave Goldstein jumped in and played along. “Rebecca?”

  “Totally suspicious,” Rebecca said.

  “Fuck all y’all,” Dwayne said, scraping the chips from the pot toward his chest. “You’re just jealous.”

  They all laughed as the deal moved to Dave. Rebecca loved poker nights. Not because she enjoyed poker (she didn’t), but because she’d been hanging out with this group of men for nearly nine years. They were Nick’s friends—Kevin, from high school; Dwayne and Dave from college—but Nick had always included Rebecca in their gatherings, and because he did, so did the others. Rebecca was simply one of the guys. They pulled no punches with her, didn’t tread carefully or watch their mouths because there was a lady present. Rebecca loved that about them. They all knew she was gay, and over the years she had bitched or raved about her women just as the guys had. Except now she was the only one left who was single.

  “Quick,” said Dwayne. “Fuck, marry, or kill. The women of Buffy. Go.”

  “Fuck Buffy, marry Anya, kill Willow.” Nick looked to Rebecca with one arched eyebrow as if daring her to call him on killing off the lesbian.

  Rebecca just scoffed at him. “Seriously, dude? Fuck Faith, marry Willow, kill Dawn.”

  Grunts and nods of agreement went around the table.

  “Oh, Dawn!” Nick smacked his forehead. “Okay. Willow can live another day. Dawn buys it.”

  Rebecca chuckled as their conversation was interrupted by Nick’s wife, Michelle, her arms loaded with munchies. Rebecca was the first one up to help. “Here. Let me.” She took a container of French onion dip and two bags of chips from Michelle’s hands.

  “There she goes, flirting with my wife again,” Nick said playfully.

  “Maybe she’ll teach her a thing or two,” Dave said, winking in the direction of the women.

  “Maybe she’ll teach Nick a thing or two,” Michelle responded, dissolving the room into hoots and hollers. Nick shook his head as his face turned a very deep red. Michelle blew him a kiss. “Love you, honey.”

  Nick opened his arms and pushed his chair back. When Michelle had set down the plates of jalapeño poppers, pizza rolls, and a veggie plate for Rebecca, she stepped to him and sat on his knee, gave him a quick peck on the lips.

  “So,” Nick said, then waited until he had the attention of his friends, all of whom had turned their focus to the food. “We have a little announcement.” When everybody was chewing, but quiet and looking in his direction, he shifted his gaze to Michelle.

  Rebecca watched with a mix of both love for her friends and envy of their relationship. Nick and Michelle were perfect together, his yang to her yin. They fit seamlessly and she loved being around them, envy be damned. Their bond made her feel good.

  Michelle was small, no more than five-three, but she had a big personality. Her light brown hair was in a ponytail and Nick playfully tugged at it now. She gave him one subtle nod and he turned to his pals. “We’re pregnant!”

  A beat of silence went by before the basement rec room burst into sound. Whoops, claps, exclamations of happy surprise. Rebecca jumped up from her chair and caught Michelle in a bear hug. Nick stood, shaking hands with his buddies, receiving slaps on the back. When his eyes met Rebecca’s, she smiled and her heart filled with affection for this man, her best friend in the world. She wrapped her arms around Nick’s neck and he hugged her tightly enough to lift her off the ground.

  “I’m so happy for you, Nicky,” she said softly in his ear. His arms tightened in response.

  “If it’s a boy, you’re naming it after me, right?” Kevin asked.

  “No, I think Dwayne is a much better name. Kevin sounds like a wimp.” Dwayne dodged a smack from Kevin.

  The celebration went on for several more minutes, and Nick even cracked open a bottle of champagne. Rebecca was not a big drinker, but she made an exception and accepted the plastic flute to toast. Then it was back to the card game.

  “Any luck on the dating site, Rebecca?” Dwayne asked some time later, rubbing a hand over his bald head as he studied his cards.

  Rebecca lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “Meh. It’s really kind of disheartening.”

  “My advice is to stick with it,” Kevin said. “I met Maria on a dating site.” Rebecca had met his wife; she was super nice, and they seemed to complement each other well.

  “What about that one chick?” Nick asked. “Didn’t you have a lunch date set up?”

  “Yeah, that was today.” Rebecca wasn’t at all self-conscious about talking to these guys about her dating life. After all the time they’d spent together over the years, they knew as much about her as she did about them. With a grimace she told them, “She didn’t show.”

  “Seriously? No text or anything?” Dwayne sounded irritated for her, and she appreciated that.

  “We hadn’t gotten far enough to exchange numbers yet. I’m always hesitant about that.”

  “Understandable,” Dwayne said. “Lotta crazies out there.”

  “You must’ve been bummed,” Nick said, and gave her shoulder a squeeze with his meaty hand before discarding.

  “I was until…” This time she did hesitate, but only for a second. “Spencer showed up.”

  “Spencer…?” Dwayne looked at her questioningly.

  “Oh! That’s the chick from the bridal class, right?” Dave said and pointed at Dwayne. “The one whose girlfriend signed her up ’cause she’s too fat for the wedding, remember?”

  “Right, right, right,” Dwayne said with a nod.

  “She’s not fat,” Rebecca said, feeling a need to defend Spencer…and then was irritated by it.

  “She showed up to lunch?” Nick asked, obviously confused.

  “Apparently, her office is across the street, and she eats there a lot.”

  “Well, that’s a weird coincidence.” It was the second time in a week Nick had made that comment regarding her and Spencer. He wasn’t wrong.

  “She saw me before I saw her and just…plopped herself down at my booth.” Rebecca remembered Spencer’s soft smile and kind eyes, how pretty she’d looked.

  “And you had lunch together?” Dave was dividing his focus between his cards and Rebecca.

  “No, I’d already been there for half an hour. I needed to get back to work.” Rebecca laid down a card, drew another. “So, just a quick chat.”

  “How’d she look?” Dwayne asked. “You said she’s not fat?”

  God, men were so blunt.

  “Does she even need to be at the gym?” Dave asked.

  “No, she’s not fat, Dwayne, and everybody needs to be at the gym, Dave.” Rebecca rolled her eyes but did her best to keep a grin on her face.

  “You should ask her out,” Nick said, not looking at her. “You keep running into her. Maybe it’s for a reason.”

  Nods and murmurs of agreement went around the table before Rebecca cut them off with, “You guys. She’s engaged. I’m not asking her out and she wouldn’t say yes anyway.”

  “Then don’t ask her out,” Kevin said. “Just…tap that.”

  Rebecca blinked at him in disbelief.

  “Yeah,” Dave agreed. “
She’d probably appreciate one last booty call before settling down with the same person for the rest of her life.”

  “I agree with that,” Dwayne piped in.

  “You’d just be doing her a favor, you know?” Nick added, rearranging his cards in his hand.

  “Seriously? You guys are horrible people.” Rebecca shook her head as she folded her hand. Smothered smiles and quiet chuckles around the table told her they weren’t actually serious, and even though she knew that, she felt a rush of relief anyway. Then she picked up a chip and threw it at Dwayne, who was across the table from her. He caught it in one hand, and his chuckle grew into a laugh as he popped it into his mouth. Soon the whole table was laughing. “Horrible. You’re all horrible.”

  “You wouldn’t have us any other way, Becky,” Dave said, with a wink.

  “Call me that again and you’ll be playing cards with a black eye,” she warned him, then winked back at him.

  These guys.

  Her heart swelled with affection for each of them, and before she had a chance to tamp it down, she found herself wondering what Spencer would think of them.

  With a literal shake of her head—a hard one—she focused in on her cards with laser precision.

  Yeah. No more of that.

  * * *

  Friday had been surprisingly quiet at work. Usually a day when phones rang off the hook—calls from folks wanting to set up last-minute open houses; never a good idea, as there was no time to advertise—things stayed relatively calm. Spencer preferred it to be busy and bustling, as that always made the day go by faster. It also kept her mind off things she had no desire to dwell on. Like moving in with Marti. Like how tired her mother had sounded on the phone last night. Like Rebecca McCall’s deer-in-the-headlights expression yesterday when Spencer had sat down in her booth.

  Those subjects took turns racing through her mind like bikes on a motocross course, jumping and skidding and banging into the side of her skull until she ended up with a steady, throbbing headache and an almost irresistible desire to skip out on bride class tonight.

  But no. She wouldn’t give Rebecca the satisfaction.

  If Rebecca really didn’t see that she treated Spencer differently than the other women—differently in general, really—then there was nothing Spencer could do about it. And even if she did see that and simply didn’t want to own up to it, there was still nothing Spencer could do about it. And why did it matter anyway?

  That was the big question, the one that plagued her more than she cared to admit: Why does it matter?

  “It doesn’t,” Spencer said out loud just as Jennifer walked through the front doors.

  “It doesn’t what?” she asked, crossing to her desk. The office was a large open space, with Spencer’s desk poised near the door so anybody entering would go to her first. Beyond her were eight more desks, butted against each other in pairs and arranged like islands in the large, sunny room. Jennifer’s was one of those closest to Spencer’s.

  “Nothing,” Spencer said with a shake of her head.

  “Class tonight?”

  “Yes, unfortunately.”

  “Don’t you like it? I mean, I know it’s probably hard work…”

  Spencer shrugged. “It’s fine. I’m just tired.” Not a total lie, but not the complete truth. It was pretty clear that she and Rebecca weren’t friends, and that was just fine. Who knew, maybe Rebecca had a thing about being friends with clients. Spencer had a similar unwritten rule: no socializing with work clients if she could help it. That only led to trouble…people expecting special treatment, better dates for open houses, priority listing, etc. No, it was fine. She understood. She was simply a client. Better that it stayed that way.

  Ninety minutes later, Spencer was stretching along with the other four members of the class, as Rebecca walked around them, observing, correcting, moving limbs slightly here and there. She looked very sleek in her tight-fitting black workout pants and matching black tank with the low-cut back, strips of fabric crisscrossing the exposed skin there. Spencer pretended not to notice.

  “Here,” Rebecca said, squatting down beside Lucy, who was on Spencer’s immediate left. “Straighten this leg more.” She tapped Lucy’s thigh. “Good. Then bend this one.” She helped Lucy steady herself with a hand on her back until Lucy found the exact right position. “There you go.”

  “Oh, ow. Yeah, I can feel that.”

  Rebecca turned to Spencer and swallowed; Spencer saw her throat move. “You as well. Straighten that leg more.” She pointed at Spencer’s left leg and Spencer did as she was told. “Now, angle that one a bit more.” Again, she pointed. Spencer obeyed with a nod. “Feel that?”

  Spencer nodded, not looking at her.

  “Good.” And then Rebecca was in front of the row of them. “As I told you Wednesday, today we’re going to work our core strength. Core strength is super important, and a lot of people forget about it. To most people, core exercises mean sit-ups or crunches, but it’s so much more than that.” She went on to reiterate things she’d already mentioned, benefits of having a strong core, but Spencer was only half listening. Instead, she found herself looking one floor up to the windowed wall of the spinning room. She could feel the thumping bass line coming from the music up there and saw several people pedaling away to nowhere.

  It intrigued her, but she had no idea why.

  “Okay, let’s get started.”

  Rebecca’s clap snatched Spencer back to the present, and she followed the other girls to an unoccupied corner of the gym.

  Ten minutes after that, Spencer was on her third set of a core exercise that she’d missed the name of but that was brutalizing her abdominal muscles. She was on her back on the floor and held an inflated ball the size of a beach ball between her ankles. She lifted her legs and arms so she could transfer the ball to her hands, then lowered her limbs. Then raised them again to repeat the move what felt like 150 more times.

  Rebecca approached and stood over her. “Keep your back down against the mat. Don’t arch it.” Spencer made the adjustment, and Rebecca moved on to where Brittany was doing the same exercise. Spencer turned her head and followed Rebecca’s retreat, watched as she stopped next to Brittany and put a hand on her stomach. “Don’t arch your back,” Spencer heard her say.

  Her abs were burning, but Spencer forced herself to finish the set. After the last rep, she let her feet drop to the floor, the ball rolling away from her as she gasped for breath.

  “Oh, my God, I’m going to feel this tomorrow,” Lucy said from a few feet away, where she was doing some kind of twisting maneuver.

  “Right?” Spencer said, with a chuckle. She watched the move for a moment before her gaze was again drawn above to the bicycles.

  Class ended with planks. Again. The bane of Spencer’s existence.

  Once more lined up like eighteen-wheelers in a parking lot, the five of them held themselves up on toes and forearms as Rebecca held a timer and strolled back and forth in front of them. Spencer was always amazed by how easy it was to get into plank position and how quickly she started to sweat, quake, and struggle for breath. Just as Rebecca informed them that thirty seconds were down, Spencer dropped to the floor, a rivulet of sweat rolling from her hairline down her cheek.

  “Get up. You can do this.” No poke with a toe, but Spencer got back up. A quick glance to her right showed Willow flopping to her belly.

  “Fifteen more seconds.” Rebecca stopped her pacing and stood in front of Spencer, who barely noticed as every muscle in her body tightened to keep from collapsing. “Five.”

  Spencer’s arms were shaking so badly, and she squeezed her eyes shut, willing those five seconds—which felt like five minutes at this point—to pass. Finally, the beeper went off and those of them who weren’t already down dropped to the floor with groans of exhaustion.

  “Dare I say you guys are getting better at this?” Rebecca’s voice seemed to hold the tiniest hint of pride. “Planks are very difficult, and the only thi
ng that makes you better at them is practice. Work that core.” When Spencer glanced up from where she’d had her forehead pressed to the floor, Rebecca was looking at her. “Have a great weekend. See you Monday.” And she left them.

  “Holy shit.” Lucy’s voice was muffled, as she was still lying face down.

  Spencer chuckled. “You okay?”

  “I may not ever be able to move again.”

  “That was a pretty rough session.” Spencer could already feel the burning soreness in her torso, but she also felt something else. Something new.

  “Rough? I think I murdered my abs.”

  Spencer pushed herself to her feet, then reached her hand down. “Come on.”

  Lucy looked up, blinked pathetically, then gave a dramatic sigh. “Fine.” She grabbed Spencer’s hand and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.

  “I think we deserve smoothies as a reward for surviving class today. Yes?”

  Lucy gave a nod. “If I can make it to the locker room and change my clothes, then yes. I will have a smoothie with you. It’s a long shot, though.”

  Spencer picked up Lucy’s water bottle and handed it to her. “Drink,” she ordered as she mopped her own sweaty face with a towel.

  “Bossy.” Then Lucy tipped the bottle up and drank greedily.

  They managed to change without incident, albeit a tiny bit slower than usual. Spencer was acutely aware of the muscles around her ribs, tight and a bit sore to the touch, as if they’d recently been installed and she was just getting used to them being there. Lucy was right: she was going to feel this tomorrow.

  Lucy slammed her locker. “Ready?”

  With a nod, Spencer gathered up her things and they headed up to the smoothie bar where Brittany and Bella already sat. They nodded their hellos but were already deep in conversation. Spencer and Lucy took a couple of seats down the counter a bit. The bar was situated so they could look down over a metal pipe railing to the workout areas below.

  “Fruit or chocolate?” Lucy asked her.

  “I’m thinking the mixed berry.”