I watch her warily as she approaches, having avoided her like the plague the last time I came by myself. I crisscross my legs just as she gets to me, looking up at her and wondering what she could possibly want.
“What’s your name?” she asks, and I look at her suspiciously but answer.
“Astrid.” The “what’s it to you” is clear in my tone.
“You got a job? Or do you happen to be looking for something?”
Okay, not what I was expecting—not that I knew what to expect. “Um… I’m a makeup artist. Why?”
Her eyebrows lift in surprise. Probably because she’s only ever seen me with a clean face, since I don’t wear makeup when I work out. “Really?” She seems to think about something. “If you’re interested, here’s a card. I have some work for you.” She hands me the card she pulled out of the pocket of her leggings, and I look down at it. There’s an address and a phone number, and it says Referred by Crystal in someone’s handwriting, but there is no business name.
“Um…” I look back up at her. “Thanks.” I twist and put the card in my purse then turn back to face her.
“Have a good workout!” she says cheerfully, and not sparing me another glance, she spins on her bare heels and goes over to the small group of women she always seems to arrive with.
The interaction was odd. Why would she have asked me if I wanted a job first before even knowing what I do?
I don’t have time to think much more on it, because Destinee turns on her mic and tells us it’s time to start.
After class, dripping with sweat but feeling amazing, I reach into my purse and pull out my phone to see if Neil is here yet. But the text I find is disappointing.
Neil: Not going to make it to the gym during work hours today, baby. 911 appt. See you when I get home. Meet you in the hot tub?
I’m bummed I won’t get to see him to get my midday fix, but I’ll happily spend more time with him in the hot tub later. We’ve made it a daily ritual since the first time a couple of days ago, and things always lead to heavy petting and making out.
He hasn’t tried to take things any further though, and I’ve tried not to let it bother me. Even though in the back of my head I worry I might’ve turned him off when I got all emotional the first and only time he went down on me. Or maybe it was just too much work to get me off and he didn’t feel like putting in that much effort again.
Whatever the case, it’s now Tuesday, and after having my first real orgasm on Saturday, spending every second with Neil all weekend, establishing we are in some type of relationship, agreeing to officially live there with no plans to move out, and sleeping in his bed every night, I’ve been fiending for a second one. And a third. But he’s made no move.
I slip the phone back into my purse, not really paying attention, but then I hear something weird as I’m walking toward the door to leave.
“…said that if we don’t find anymore recruits, then they’re just going to start ta—”
“Hey, Astrid!” the girl who must be the Crystal on the card calls, and I look over my shoulder at her as my hand reaches to push the door open. “Make sure to call me to set something up. It’s a great opportunity for a makeup artist. Anywhere from ten to twenty faces a night.”
I raise my brows at that. That would be a huge chunk of change to make in one night, and it would go a long way toward saving up for cosmetology school.
But seeing as the gym is the only place I’ve gotten really comfortable coming to by myself, I don’t make any promises. “I’ll think about it,” I tell her, but I smile and give her a little wave as I go out the door so she doesn’t think I’m a complete bitch for blowing off her seemingly generous offer.
By the time I get to the car, the opportunity sounds better and better, and I’m so excited to tell Neil about it that instead of texting him or waiting until he gets home, I drive straight to his office. He’s likely in with his emergency appointment, but maybe I can sneak five minutes with him before his next one.
I enter through the office door and look around, never having actually been inside before. He’s pointed it out when taking me to the post office before, trying to make conversation, but we never stopped to visit.
The waiting room actually reminds me a lot of the one between the yoga studios. Everything is all neutral tones, cozy lighting, and a diffuser that’s misting lavender into the air above it. The lady behind the glass window pulls it open and smiles at me.