I nod.
“Booo,” Dev says with his thumb pointed down.
Thibault shakes his head. “Jesus, people, grow up. It’s a time sheet, not a calculus test.”
Ozzie stands. “One more thing before you all leave.”
Panic hits me. I know it’s irrational and completely contrary to how he’s treated me so far, but all I can think is he’s going to tell them. He’s going to expose me for the slut that I am, revealing that I slept with him just mere days after meeting him for the first time.
“We need a company car for May. I’m open to suggestions about make and model.”
I’m too stunned to speak. I get a company car? Does that mean I’m not on probation anymore? Am I the only one noticing how crazy this is?
“How about a minivan?” Toni says, snorting at her own joke.
I glare at her, my misgivings flying out the window. “What . . . you’re saying I look like a minivan type? A mom with a bunch of kids? No thanks.”
She shrugs. “You’re Bo Peep. Might as well work with the cover you’ve got naturally.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Ozzie says.
Traitor! I turn on him. “Of course it’s a bad idea. It’s a horrible idea. I can’t drive a minivan! Minivans are for moms. They’re for married women, not single ones.”
I don’t look like a minivan driver, do I? It makes me want to cry. I know they have a lot of headroom and storage space, plus room for eight passengers, but come on . . . I’m single, for God’s sake!
“You’re worried it’ll get in the way of your dating life?” Ozzie waits impassively for my response.
My face contorts itself through several expressions. Frustration. Embarrassment. Sadness. Jealousy. “How come Toni gets to drive an SUV?”
Yes, I’m being childish, but what the hell. She gets to walk around in tight pants and stiletto-heeled boots. I’m in espadrilles and a minivan. I’m calling shenanigans on that. It makes me wonder why Ozzie slept with me in the first place. Is he some kind of weirdo with an Oedipus complex?
“I drive the SUV because it suits me.” She smiles at me, and I detect more than a hint of smugness there. Argh, she is so begging for a Tasering right now, or at the very least a pee-purse whacking.
I narrow my eyes at her. “A minivan does not suit me at all.”
“How about I take her car shopping?” Dev says. “I have time later today.”
“Do that.” Ozzie nods. “I’ll be done with her around nine.”
“And I’ll be done with her by two,” Toni adds. I think she likes speaking for my time schedule a little too much. She and I are going to have to share a few words about that. I can’t go running to Ozzie over issues like this, especially now that we’re sleeping together. I don’t want any special treatment. Yeah, Toni and I are going to have a little convo later this morning, just so we can get some things straight.
“You want to meet me here at two-thirty?” Dev asks me.
“Sure. As long as you don’t have a weapon on you that you plan to use against me.”
He smiles. “No promises.”
I shrug. “Fine. Same goes for me, though.”
“Ooooh, baby, that sounds like a threat!” Thibault is laughing. “You opened up a can o’ worms with her, Dev. I think you’d better retreat.”
“Retreat isn’t in my vocabulary,” he says, standing to his full, almost seven-foot height.
I have to admit, it’s pretty impressive. But I’m not going to let anyone know I’m affected by it. I shrug. “Don’t worry, Thibault. You know what they say about guys like him.” I gesture at Dev with my chin.
Thibault’s eyes are practically sparkling with glee. “No, what do they say?”
“The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
Even Ozzie laughs when Dev replies. “Oh, it’s on, Bo Peep. It is so on right now.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
After changing into my workout clothes, I meet Ozzie in the company’s gym. He’s wearing his workout stuff too, and I have to avert my eyes from his crotch that I swear is growing bigger by the second. It doesn’t help to calm me down, though. His chest is massive in the light of day, and I still remember what it felt like beneath my hands and what it looked like naked, hovering above me.
“I’m going to show you Dev’s circuit today, so you can do it without me in the future.”
My face falls. All sexy thoughts leave my mind immediately. The circuit? Nobody likes the circuit. I don’t even know what it is, and I don’t like it.
“What’s the matter?” he asks me, moving closer.
I back up. “Nothing.” I look around at the equipment, acting like I’m not hurt that he’s already trying to get out of his promise to work out with me. “Where do we start?”
“We’re not starting anything until you tell me what I did wrong.” He’s looking down at me with an expression that tells me he means business.
“It’s nothing. Me being a girl. Silly stuff. Come on, let’s work out.” I really need to stop being such a wiener. I’m starting to get tired of myself.
He stands still for a few seconds but then moves to my right. “Over here is the famous clipboard.” He picks it up from a table and holds it up for me to see. His muscles flex even with just that small movement. Yums.
“Dev has a list here of exercises that need to be executed on certain machines. Each one is done for one minute total, as many reps as you can bang out with good form, with a fifteen-second break in between each one. You can’t rest for more than that or he blows a gasket.”
“How does he know if you followed the plan or not?”
“Because he’s a freak. Trust me, he can tell from looking at you if you’ve been cheating. I don’t know if he secretly counts out the seconds from across the room or what, but he knows. Cheating the circuit is cheating yourself, and cheating yourself is cheating the team. So just don’t cheat. Follow the rules of the clipboard.”
“Sounds ominous,” I say, trying to joke about the fact that I have a Nazi war general in charge of my exercises. I’m not as sure now as I was before that I want to get in shape.
“Nah. You’ll get used to it. Besides . . . it gets results.” He shows me the clipboard. “Here’s the first exercise. Dev numbered the machines. This first exercise is done on number eight. You do pull-downs, behind the head. Pictures of how to do the exercise are on the machines themselves, so you can follow them as you work out.” He points to the paper and then walks to the machine. “Have a seat.”
I sit on the cushioned black mini-bench and wait for Ozzie to do his next thing. He puts a pin in some weights I’ll be moving. In front of me I notice the picture he mentioned that describes how to do the exercise. It’s a drawing of a person pulling the bar down to the back of his neck, just like he said. I nod. It looks easy enough.
“Grab that bar over your head and pull it down behind your neck. Slow, controlled movements, do as many as you can with your hands spread apart wide.” He leans over and presses a button on a timer that’s been stuck to the machine with sticky tape. “Timer’s set.” He presses another button. “Go.” Seconds tick down from sixty.
I pull the bar down and smile when I see that the weight he’s selected for me is manageable. I can do this. I won’t even need to cheat on the seconds.
Ozzie stares at the bar coming down. Then he watches me, focusing on my face.
“You didn’t eat your omelet,” he says in a lower voice, designed not to carry across the warehouse.
“I know.” I wait while I pull the bar down again before continuing. “I didn’t want everyone to see.” Air hisses out of me as I try to keep the bar from flying back up above my head. Okay, so it’s not as easy as I thought.