Soft Body

2: All Work and an Ex-Wife Makes Tucker A Dull Boy

Tucker woke up on his keyboard, with deep imprints of the keys marking his face. He was glad that his hand caught most of his drool. The thought of a sticky keyboard repulsed him. The clock gave him more of a shock. 10:30? How had he slept so late?

No, he knew why he had slept so late. It was the gyms. Roman Elite Fitness had spread quicker than he had ever dreamed. It started as a little personal training business that he had built after he wrecked his arm playing college baseball. He made a few connections and after a year of personal training, the first gym was founded. That was twelve years and seven clubs ago, and twelve years was a long time.

He groggily made his way to the shower and let the water run. Hot. He liked the water to almost burn his skin. It felt like physical therapy, in a way. Tucker scoffed at the fact that he was still wearing last night's clothes. He never wore clothes to bed. Ever. It wasn't natural. Even in the dead of winter, he preferred multiple blankets over a pair of flannel pants. He took off yesterday's clothes, a Nike running shirt and shorts. His smell hit him next. He was embarrassed by his own forgetfulness to shower.

His shower felt like a spiritual healing process, however brief it was. I need to stop doing this to myself, he thought. He suddenly felt very old and it made him feel uncomfortable. The 21 year old was gone. The 33 year old was here, complete with grown up baggage. His phone rang.

Speaking of baggage, he thought, answering the phone. "If this isn't about business, I don't want to talk to you," he said, sharply.

"That's no way to talk to a lady," the voice said on the other end of the phone.

"I don't know when you started to think you were one, but you're confused. Now, does this have something to do with my business or not?" Tucker's mother would have killed him if she had heard him talk to a woman this way. Any woman. Even if she was his plodding and manipulative ex-wife, which she was.

"It is. You're late for the interviews at my gym and the one on Stone. Don't waste my time, now."

"Yeah, I got it, Eve. I'll see you soon."

"I know you've been wanting to," she said, seductively dropping her voice. Tucker sighed.

"Not really." He hung up and quickly got dressed for work, the relaxation of his shower almost gone. He took a second to look at himself in the mirror before he left. His bald head shined. There were new crease marks near his eyes. His stubble was a little longer than usual. Old, definitely old.

*****

"You exhaust me. Hire the guy, I'm leaving," Tucker said. He was at his limit for spending time with Eve. Hearing her voice first thing in the morning put him in a bad mood and seeing her later on put him over the edge. But what choice did she give him?

His first mistake was marrying the manager of one of his clubs. Everyone had warned him not to mix business and pleasure, but he didn't care. He would learn the hard way if it came down to it, which it had.

But he didn't want to think about that now.

The Stone Avenue location of Roman Elite was his favorite. The employees seemed to just get it. The gym was always spotless and the members were always smiling. What more could he ask for?

Jackie welcomed him as he walked through the doors at 11:50. He knew he should have been there earlier but she didn't chastise him.

"Good morning, Tuck! Do you want to take a look around while we wait for your noon interview?"

"Yeah, I'll take a look around. What can you tell me about this interview?" He asked. He watched Jackie try to gather as many facts as she could. He had promoted her to manager out of loyalty, not her wits. She had survived the Eve era and the asshole couple they were.

"You're gonna like her. She knows how to talk. She's kinda fat, but that doesn't matter I guess," she said casually. It made Tucker's mouth go dry. Why were women so catty? What was the point? He frowned. Beautiful was beautiful, plain was beautiful, tall, short, fat, thin, whatever. He could find beauty in it all, provided the girl could keep him entertained. Tucker had a tendency to get bored easily. His only commitment was to the gym.

"Right," he said curtly. Damn Eve, he thought. She had gotten under his skin. He wanted to smile at the members who smiled at him while he was walking around. He wanted to make conversation with Jackie and everyone else working. He just didn't care, wallowing in his frustration while pretending to look closely at the ledges to see if there was dust or checking the machines to see if they needed oil. He wanted to sleep for days or fuck something, maybe both.

  He involuntarily looked around the club for options. A thin woman in her sixties did squats in front of a mirror. Too old. Next to her, one of his employees, Tessa, was refilling bottles of equipment cleaner.

Tessa was eighteen, and it made Tucker feel predatory that he looked at her ass in her khakis. He didn't find her particularly attractive: thin, orange tan, brunette. She was basically Jackie's physical double but lacked her kind simplicity. He saw far too many similarities to Eve's personality. He saw the way her eyes calculated every move and the false veneer of genuineness. He remembered what it was like being that young. How much of a selfish dick he had been. How insecure he was. But there was still something deeper than just being young and dumb that bothered him about Tessa. He couldn't place it.

He looked around again and saw the door open. A short girl walked up to the desk and Jackie pointed her to the table in the lobby. He decided to finish his absent-minded fake work and attend to his actual job, despite how sluggish and annoyed he felt.

He went to the desk and got his pen and notebook. He preferred to use his own black Moleskine and gel pen. It gave him a small bit of luxury throughout his day. Tucker had purposely not looked at the girl waiting for him at the table. Part of him wanted to be surprised. The other part was still putting off work. If he looked at her, he'd have to be on. The owner of Roman Elite Fitness, the spokesman, the boss. But right now, he just wanted to be Tucker.

He sighed, then turned towards the table. He was not disappointed at what he saw.

She was fat, yes, but small fat and she wore it well. So, so well.

The girl stood up and extended her hand. Tucker took it.

Her hand was incredibly soft. Not that it surprised him. Females often had soft skin, but hers was sensually soft, and the blood red nail polish on her fingers didn't help any. It made him want to lean in and kiss her on both cheeks, something he stopped doing when greeting people a long time ago. Still, sometimes he fell back into his Italian tendencies. He remembered visiting his grandfather in Italy when he was six.

"Figlio," he said with a smirk, "you kiss the girls, understand?" Tucker went back to his school in the United States and tried to kiss all the girls, most of whom did not appreciate it. This was the first great disappointment of his life.

Tucker lingered for a moment, the girl's hand still in his. She had a nice, firm handshake, a welcome departure from his other female interviewees and even a few of the male ones.

"Tucker," he said finally speaking. She gave him a wide smile. Her noticed how bright her eyes were. There was light and life in her brown eyes. He thought he felt his heart beat a little faster. Jackie was right, he thought. He would like this girl.