That's why I did it. That's why I subjected myself to the insane scrutiny of my ass, hair, and teeth, why I wore ridiculously tight pants and super colorful bow ties, and why I uttered that corny catchphrase at the end of each forecast.
To be able to touch someone's life, someone that I'd never even meet in person, was truly a magical thing. And if I could touch their lives and get them to make just one small positive change, it would make the world a better place.
That was all I really wanted. To make a small, positive difference in the world.
I sank back into the sofa and considered it...a fake boyfriend. Maybe I should do it? If it helped me snag that promotion, and made Mrs. Langley happy, what’s the worst thing that could happen?
Chapter Three
HUDSON
"I've locked everything up and switched the alarm system to night mode."
I looked up and saw Zander's muscular frame taking up the entire doorway to my office.
"That's great, thank you," I said. "Come on in for a sec."
I quickly saved the document I was working on. It was a dizzying blur of digits and an even more dizzying sea of red.
Zander sat down in the chair across from me. "What's up, boss?"
For a brief moment, I was reminded of my conversation with Porter earlier that evening, but the fact that Zander was gay meant that he was just using the term because it described who I was to him. His boss. His boss who had acted badly toward him before.
I looked at him. He was in his early thirties, and he had a friendly face and a sculpted, muscular body. No tattoos though, despite my gentle insistence that they would look great on him. He was wearing the same all-black uniform I was.
"I'd like to apologize about earlier," I said.
A frown crossed Zander's forehead. "Earlier?"
"Yeah, about the whole TV thing. I was rude to you and I could tell that I made you feel uncomfortable. You were just doing your job, telling me what clients were telling you, probably because they were too afraid to tell me themselves."
His pensive smile confirmed that I was on the right track.
"You've got a lot going on, boss," he said.
"I do," I said with a nod. "But that's still no excuse. You're one of my best employees and I am sorry for the way I spoke to you before."
"Well, thanks for saying so. That's very nice of you," Zander said. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, struggling to find the words he wanted to say.
"Just ask. You remind me of the goldfish I had growing up when you do that thing with your mouth," I said, and we both laughed.
The last traces of laughter vanished from his face as he chewed on his lip and asked, "How bad is it here? I mean, I know you've had to shut down the other two locations, and business has been slow here too, so I'm just worried that…"
His voice trailed off.
"It's not good," I said bluntly. "I'm not going to lie to you, but please keep this to yourself."
Zander nodded. I knew I could trust him. He'd been with me for over five years and had proven his loyalty, as well as his discretion, numerous times.
"Like so many other businesses, we've been hit hard and we're bleeding pretty badly. I've consolidated as much as I can, and reduced all reducible costs, but there are outgoings that we still have to pay. And we're not even breaking even at this point."
"Wow." Zander nodded his head slowly, taking in everything I was telling him. "I knew things were bad, I just didn't realize they were this bad."
His words hit me heavily and I felt the searing shame of failure creep down my chest and settle in my gut. I really had done everything I possibly could have to save my business.
Closing down two locations was heartbreaking for me. It meant letting go of staff, people that I genuinely cared about and who would now be struggling to find other work. It meant saying goodbye to the small band of remaining loyal clients who couldn't travel from the suburbs of Daylesford to the downtown gym. I'd known some of them for years, decades in a few cases, since my days on the weightlifting squad at Daylesford University.
The downtown gym was by far the most popular of the three locations, and it was our best shot at surviving. As heart-wrenching as it was, I knew I'd made the right decision from a business standpoint.
From a human standpoint, well, that was another matter.
After a moment, Zander began to speak, outlining all of the different ways we could possibly try to turn things around.
"We could do an open day…" he began. His words faded into the background.
I couldn't help but blame myself for the business going downhill. Over the past two years, my heart just hadn't been in it anymore.
After Richie died, it was my saving grace. My sanctuary. The place I would come to and be surrounded by people I knew. Those first two years were the hardest of my life. His death, and the way he died, sent me to a very dark place. One that was incredibly hard to climb back out of.
The hardest part, in amongst all the grief and anguish, was pondering the unanswered questions. There were so many things that I wanted to find out, and knowing that I'd never be able to find out was devastating.
He left me a letter. In it, he wrote a line that stayed with me to this very day.
This isn't because of you...
I tried to convince myself that he meant it in the good way, in the kind of way that would make me not blame myself for his actions. But part of me couldn't help but be crushed by those words.
On the surface it'd seemed that we had the most wonderful relationship. Funnily, both Stirling and I were dating guys called Richard at the same time. So Porter came up with the ingenious distinction of calling Stirling’s Richard bad Richard—because the guy was a lying, cheating scumbag, so, fair enough—and my Richard good Richard.
It would piss Stirling off to no end and it made me uncomfortable too.
My relationship had looked good on the surface. It was always so important to Richie that other people thought that we were in a good place, even though underneath it all, we fought like crazy, were incompatible in some pretty major ways, and had many unresolved issues. And then, two weeks before he did what he did, we broke up.
Or rather, I ended it.
That was the right decision. I knew it in my heart of hearts, but it only made what he did next even harder to bear. Richie begged me not to tell our friends, family, or anyone else about the breakup. I figured it was the least I could do to give him some time to get used to it, so I agreed. But it meant that when he died, people still thought that we were together.
A shitstorm on top of a shitstorm on top of a shitstorm.
But the gym, therapy, my three closest friends, and my family got me through the next two years. When I finally came out of the grieving process, I looked at my life, and the things that mattered to me, very differently. I knew then that my heart wasn't in the gym anymore.
Yes, I still wanted to help people, but I wasn't interested in just physical health anymore. Mental health became a lot more interesting to me. I wanted to do something good in that space. What, where, how, and when…I was still in the process of figuring all of that stuff out.
First things first, I had a gym to save.