Dead Fit - 4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The rest of the week played in slow-motion for me. I didn't want to admit it, but I couldn't wait to see Brian on Friday for our next training session. It was completely out of character for me to be so giddy over a guy, and I felt silly. Here I was anxious to see Brian, again, as though he was my long lost Romeo. But he was nothing more than a client. Worse yet, he wasn't even my client.

Ana and I had lunch together on Thursday. Our conversation was light-hearted, with the bulk of it spent making fun of Gary and the other trainers at the gym. At one point, Ana was kind enough to remind me that Brian was scheduled for an appointment at the gym on Friday. As if I could forget. But, for her amusement, I feigned complete memory loss of the upcoming event. She just smiled, taking full pleasure in knowing that I was excited as hell to see him.

On Friday morning, I woke up earlier than usual. I didn’t sleep well the night before, anticipating the hour I would get to spend with Brian. I still had no idea if Brian was gay. Even if he was, I could have misinterpreted his comment about wanting to get to know me better. For all I know, Brian could have meant that he wanted to get to know me for free fitness advice.

While I was getting ready for work, I noticed I spent more time than usual checking me out in the mirror, making sure my polo shirt was neatly tucked in, my blonde hair was properly styled, and my face was cleanly shaven. I even splashed a little extra cologne and gargled with mouth wash for a bit longer. Pathetic. Here I was primping myself like a teenage boy would to get the attention of a girl.

When I got to the gym, I walked past Ana, hoping she wouldn't notice the extra effort I took to get ready this morning. “Good morning, Jaysen. You smell delicious,” she said, licking her lips. Damn. I guess she did notice.

Promptly at 10:30, Brian walked through the doors of the gym. He checked in with Ana and then headed straight to my desk. Ana smiled and gave me a thumbs-up as Brian walked away from her.

This time, we rotated his workout routine and performed exercises for his chest, back, and legs. Just like on Tuesday, our conversation was limited while he worked out. I was a little bummed that he wasn’t trying to hold a conversation like I had hoped, but I was glad just to be able to spend a little more time with him.

When the workout was through, Brian and I headed back to my desk to complete the standard paperwork. I took my time updating his file, enjoying my last few moments with him. When I couldn't think of anything else to do to stretch the time, I looked at his next scheduled appointment. I said to Brian, “Your next session is on Monday. Xavier will be back then."

“Can I take you to lunch for helping me while Xavier was gone this week?”

Of course I wanted to accept his invitation, but the chicken in me started clucking and I thought about Gary’s policy about not fraternizing with clients. “We have a pretty strict policy that doesn't allow us to accept gifts from clients.”

“Well, how about we pay separately,” Brian asked. “Then it won't be a gift. I never got a chance to get to know you. I can be pretty focused when working out and not very social. You seem pretty cool.”

My heart was racing. I didn't want to seem too eager, so I made a face showing my deep ethical contemplation and then responded, "Alright, as long as we pay separately, it should be okay." So that he didn't think my social life was lacking, I pretended to check my schedule before confirming with him that I was, indeed, free to join him for lunch.

I finished updating Brian's client file and returned it to Xavier's cabinet. Brian offered to drive to lunch and drop me off back at the gym afterwards. On our way out, we passed by the reception desk. I casually let Ana know that I was stepping out for lunch. Ana saw that Brian was with me and her reaction was anything but casual. Her eyes grew really big and she looked from me to Brian, back to me, then back to Brian. It looked like Ana was watching a ping pong tournament. A wide smile stretched across her face and she said, "Have a good lunch!"

Great. Real subtle. Thanks, Ana.

While we walked to his car, my eyes scanned the parking lot for Gary. The coast was clear. I didn't have to worry about explaining where I was going with a client.

Brian drove a Range Rover that looked like a giant shoe box on wheels. Not the most environmentally friendly vehicle, but certainly a status symbol of his wealth. The interior had a new car smell mixed with the scent of freshly polished leather.

Brian backed out of the space and asked, "How does Italian sound? I know a great authentic restaurant on Broadway."

"Sure, Italian sounds good." I didn't actually care what we had for lunch. I was just hoping that I wasn't going to be too nervous to eat.

Brian drove to a little Italian diner just a few miles from the gym. The waitress who stopped at our table greeted Brian by name. Apparently this was a regular haunt of his. I picked spaghetti with meat sauce and Brian ordered a small pizza.

While we waited for our food to arrive, I decided to throw out some questions to see if I could find out more about Brian. It was also a trick I learned over the years to compensate for my introverted personality – ask a lot of questions and I wouldn't have to open myself up to the other person.

I started with an easy question, “So, what do you do for a living?”

“I own some commercial real estate properties. Nothing too exciting, but it pays the bills.”

“Commercial real estate properties? Meaning you rent space to businesses?”

“Yes, that's basically what I do. I buy old abandoned properties that have been zoned for commercial use. Because they're in pretty bad shape when I get them, I can buy for cheap. Sometimes really cheap. I rent them out to small businesses who can't afford much. Then, with the monthly rents that come in, I can slowly make a few upgrades and modifications. Eventually, the old run down properties are like new again and I can sell them for a lot more than what I paid.”

“You like what you do,” I asked.

“There are parts of it I love, parts of it I don't. The good parts are that I get to set my own schedule, the money's great when the economy is doing well, and once I get a tenant, I know I have steady income until the lease runts out. But the downside is I'm on call 24/7, which means I am tethered to my cell phone. And I really don't have any coworkers, so it can be lonely at times."

I tried to think of another question for Brian, but nothing came to my mind. It probably didn't help that I didn't know the first thing about real estate. I mean, how much could I possibly know about commercial property rentals when I was still living at home with my parents?

Brian took advantage of the pause and asked me, “Okay, you just got to ask me some questions, now it's my turn. It's obvious you workout, so what's your favorite song to workout to?”

Did he just say it was obvious that I workout? Does this mean he's checking me out?

No one had ever asked me about my favorite workout song before so I didn't have a canned response to give. I said, “I never really thought about it. I guess I like anything that's fast and can get my heart rate going.”

“And so the answer to the question is,” Brian asked with exaggerated impatience.

“Baba O'Reilly by the Who,” I said. The way it came out sounded more like a question than a statement, but it was all I could come up with under pressure.

“Good answer. Okay, if you were stranded on an island, what one object would you take with you? And no, it can't be a person.”

I felt like this was some kind of personality test and I was going to fail. “Um, I guess I would take a book to read.”

“Oh, not such a good answer.” He seemed so serious when he said it, I couldn't tell if he meant it or if he was just playing with me.

The waitress brought out our lunch, giving me a little relief from Brian’s questions. She set down our food and put a plate of garlic bread in the middle of the table. Then she grated fresh Parmesan cheese onto my pasta, and disappeared back into the kitchen.

No sooner was she gone when Brian continued the inquisition, “Now, for some easier questions. What do you do for fun?”

"I see movies, hang out with friends, exercise," I said, then wondered if I should have spiced up my social life with a few lies.

“Do you date,” he asked.

“Uh, no, not exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, um,” I stammered, “I'm actually gay.”

“Oh, I see,” Brian responded. “That totally explains why you don't date.”

It wasn't until Brian smiled that I realized he was being sarcastic. “Jaysen, what does you being gay have anything to do with you not dating? What, gay people aren’t allowed to date?”

“What I meant was, I'm kind of new to the whole gay scene and I haven't quite figured out yet how to meet guys.”

"You live in Long Beach. If you can't figure out how to meet a guy here, you're going to be single for the rest of your life."

I knew Brian was right. Besides West Hollywood, Long Beach was about as gay-friendly as it could get in Southern California.

"Point well taken. Anyway, I think it's my turn to ask some questions. How about you? Do you date?"

"I date all the time, but I haven’t been in a serious relationship for a while."

The little gears in my head started spinning. I noted that Brian was suspiciously gender-neutral in his statement. Time for me to push the envelope.

"How long were you in your most recent relationship?"

Brian responded, "Almost two years."

Damn. His response didn't help me.

Brian continued, "I really thought he might be the one."

A buzzer and some flashing lights went off in my head. I felt like I had just won the showcase showdown on the Price is Right. Brian said it so nonchalantly, but at least now I had confirmation that he was gay. Half of my questions were now answered. The other half was figuring out if he had any interest in me.

We ate in silence for a while. My spaghetti noodles were on the stiff side and I would have been happier eating a plate of Chef Boyardee.

Brian snagged a piece of garlic bread, took a bite and asked, “So, do you live in Long Beach?”

“Yea, I actually still live with my parents in Belmont Heights, not too far from the gym.”

“You like living with them?”

“It's not bad. The rent is certainly cheap, but eventually I want to get a place of my own.”

“Yea, I can understand. It must be tough bringing dates back home. That is, it will be tough once you start dating.”

I liked that he was optimistic in the way he said it, as though he was sure I would eventually find someone to date.

The rest of our conversation while we finished our meals was idle chit-chat, something I was never comfortable doing. Brian kept the conversation to fitness, asking me about the accuracy of recommendations he had read in health magazines.

After I cleaned my plate, I excused myself to use the restroom. While there, I took a second look in the mirror to make sure I was still presentable. No spaghetti sauce on my face. When I returned to the table, Brian had already settled the bill with the waitress and was ready to take me back to the gym.

"I thought we were paying separately," I asked.

"I lied. I rarely do it, but when I want to get my way, like to get you to eat lunch with me, I’ll resort to a fib or two," he said with a smile. Brian was driving me crazy with that grin of his.

We walked back to the Range Rover and he drove back to the gym. Brian was pretty quiet during the five minute drive and I assumed it was because he didn't find me interesting. Who could blame him? I barely found myself interesting. But I hoped we could at least be friends. He seemed like a genuinely nice person. And maybe he could introduce me to his circle of friends. Surely someone as good looking as Brian would have friends that were equally as attractive.

When we got back to the gym, Brian pulled up to the front door and put the Rover in park. I was ready to thank him for lunch and remind him that Xavier would be back next week, when he surprised me by asking, “So, do you have plans for tomorrow night?”

“No.”

“Good. Can you meet me over at my place at seven and we'll go for dinner?”

Before I could even wrestle with the ethical dilemma of having dinner with a client, a response just popped out of my mouth. “Sure. That sounds nice.”

Brian jotted down his address, including thorough instructions on where to park. Then he zipped off in his Rover.

I casually walked into the gym past Ana, who was busy on a telephone call. She gave me the “get back here” look, but I continued to my desk without stopping. As soon as her telephone conversation ended, Ana came tearing over to me.

"Tell all and don't leave out any details," she instructed.

On the fly, I make a quick decision. Even though I completely trusted Ana, I didn't want to tell her about the date we just arranged. What if we ended up having a horrible time on Saturday and he had no interest in seeing me again? Then what would be the point of telling her. And how embarrassing would that be, to have to tell her that my first date with a guy ended in total rejection.

“Quit letting your imagination run wild, Ana. We just had lunch. It was his way of thanking me for working with him while Xavier was out. It was no big deal.”

Ana smirked, “I think you're hiding something from me. I can just sense it. But hey, it's cool. If you don't want to talk about it now you don't have to. When you're ready, just let me know. I'll be all ears.” She walked back to the reception desk without saying another word.

How did she know me so well?