9. Jenny and the Business Card

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A textbook sat open in front of her, but Jenny's eyes were riveted on the business card in her hands. She turned it over and over.

Juliana Renfield. Personal Trainer.

They didn't normally hand out business cards in parking lots, right? Which meant Juliana really wanted to see her again?

No. What a silly thought. They probably got bonuses based on how many new personal training clients they signed up. That was all.

Still. The idea of seeing Juliana again had a certain appeal. She'd never paid attention to anyone at the gym before. Had no desire to see people judging her wide backside or flabby arms. Did people laugh at her there?

She raised an arm and shook it, watching it jiggle. Juliana's arms didn't jiggle.

No. She wouldn't call. No amount of fanciful thinking was going to make a girl like Juliana Renfield take interest in someone like her.

She set the card down. Returned her eyes to the textbook. Read the same paragraph three times.

Jenny sighed. Those eyes though. So warm and kind, without a hint of judgement. She never knew anyone like that in high school. She'd been "Laugh-at-her Leffer" in high school. Was so eager to leave the school scene she hadn't even bothered thinking about college. And her free-spirited parents, bless them, never pressured her about it. Want to quit school? That's fine, they'd said. Just graduate high school and then figure out what you want to do next. A box of Oreos will make you feel better? Sure, here you go.

Jenny would never, ever blame her parents for the way her life turned out, but a bit of guidance would've been good. And maybe a few more vegetables.

She was in charge of her own life now. If she wanted things to change, she had to be the one to change it. Juliana didn't strike her as the type to ridicule her clients. Maybe Jenny could finally make some progress on losing the flab.

She picked up the card in one hand and her phone in the other. Wavered.

You're not asking her out on a date, silly. You're making an appointment. The reminder loosened her thumb enough to dial the number.

She waited. Listened to the ringing. Considered hanging up.

"This is Juliana," the familiar voice answered.

Jenny's lips curled into an unbidden smile. She liked her voice. It was pleasant. Smooth.

"Hello?"

Jenny snapped to awareness, realizing she hadn't spoken a word. "Hi! Hello. Um, this is—you gave me your card earlier today, and—I guess you give your card to a lot of people?" Where did all this babbling come from?

"Jenny, right?" Juliana spoke with a smile in her voice.

"Yes, right. I hope it's not too late." She glanced at the clock, wincing because only desperate people called for appointments after 9pm, mere hours after receiving a card.

"It's fine. Noah, stop it!" There was a muffled sound, then Juliana returned to the phone. "Sorry about that. What can I help you with?"

Noah? Who was Noah? Her boyfriend, probably. Jenny's stomach sank and she nearly ended the call. Of course she'd have a boyfriend. Or a son! Maybe she was married with an entire family!

She nearly moaned aloud, then remembered the real reason for calling. Well, at least the real reason she was telling herself. "I, um, wanted to make an appointment. For the personal training thing."

"That's great! Let me pull up my schedule."

They decided on a date and time. Jenny wasn't sure why, but it felt like she was taking a huge step here. Only important people had personal trainers, right? Sure, this was only a one-week freebie, but still. For one week, she could say she had a personal trainer. She grinned at the thought.

"I'm really glad you called," Juliana said.

Warmth spread through Jenny's body. "You are?"

"You did say you're here all week, and now you will be!"

She remembered Jenny's lame attempt at humor? "Yeah, well, if I bomb, promise you won't let people throw tomatoes at me?"

"You won't bomb."

The sincerity in Juliana's voice made her pause. Made her think, just for a moment, that she could succeed at this fitness thing. Then she remembered the scale she'd kicked aside not long ago, after a month of toiling. "You don't really know that."

Juliana didn't answer right away. Damn it, Jenny thought, mentally kicking herself, self-pity is unattractive. Now she feels sorry for you.

"I may not know you well," Juliana eventually said. "But you don't strike me as a quitter."

"How could you possibly know that?" She knew rejecting the compliment was rude and petty, but she wanted no pity-praise.

"Well..."

Jenny waited, holding her breath, convinced the trainer was going to change her mind and cancel the whole thing. The way Jenny was behaving, she wouldn't blame her.

"Because I'm that good." The sincerity in Juliana's voice had changed into polished confidence. A bit too polished.

Jenny believed her anyway. "Okay."

"Well, I'll see you then! Thanks for calling, Jenny."

The call ended.

Jenny flopped her head onto her textbook and groaned. She'd made a fool of herself, throwing Juliana's not-a-quitter comment back at her as if the trainer was in the habit of lying. Then again, weren't trainers supposed to say things like that to keep their clients motivated?

Maybe that's what was bothering her. Jenny was a client. She didn't want to be a client. She wanted more. She wanted to be the object of someone's desire.

She sat up with a huff. "Good luck with that," she said to the textbook as she slammed it shut. Fixer-uppers like Jenny were only attractive as projects to those who liked to fix things. People like Danielle and Juliana. Once they had enough of the project, they'd move on to the next.

It occurred to her that she hadn't thought about Danielle once during this whole evening. Not until now. Thoughts of Juliana had crowded the other woman out. But now she couldn't help noticing their similarities.

It's fine, she said to herself. She'd get her free week of personal training, maybe learn a few things, and then get back to her unremarkable life. It was totally fine.

All she had to do was get past the urge to cry.


Aww now I want to cry too. (Votes will make me feel better though.)

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