Weighting for Christmas Page 5

  He just walks away leaving me straddling the treadmill watching him go.

  SIX

  I am purposely ten minutes late. I’m not proud of making Adam wait, but I did not want to be the first one at the little coffee shop and bakery. It would make me look too eager. And truth be told, I was still trying on tops fifteen minutes ago anyway.

  I park my car and search the tables I can see through the front windows. I don’t see a man sitting alone. There are a few bistro tables on the sidewalk but it’s too cold to be outside and they are all empty anyway. Maybe I’ve been stood up. Wouldn’t really surprise me, and I don’t think I’d really mind. I’m still in a funk from yesterday at the gym. Chad’s behavior has me royally confused.

  I walk slowly to the door, still searching for a man on his own. As I step inside the shop, the delicious aroma of fresh-brewed coffee filling my sense of smell, the freshly baked pastries displayed under the counter making my mouth salivate, and the sound of chatter all around me, I glance to my right and see a man standing at the corner table, looking vaguely familiar. I might just recognize him from his photo. I step in his direction and he smiles brightly.

  “Kate?” he asks as I step closer.

  “Adam. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Please, have a seat,” he offers as he pulls out the chair.

  “Thank you. I’m sorry I’m a bit late. Traffic,” I sigh.

  “Oh, no problem,” he smiles again. “I was a bit early, so I’m already on my second cup. In fact, if you’ll excuse me for just a minute.”

  He disappears down the hall, assumedly to the bathroom. I take a moment to take off my jacket and hang it on the back of my chair, along with my purse. Adam seems just as his profile suggests. He looks in his mid to late thirties, a good head of hair, and a smidge on the chubby side, not that I’m judging him for that. In fact, it puts me a bit more at ease.

  I reach for the menu tucked in between the salt and pepper shaker and open the laminated list of coffees. They also do salad, sandwiches and soup. My stomach magically growls. It’s trained well.

  Adam returns and sits opposite me. “Anything look good?”

  “It all looks good,” I grin.

  “Great. Go ahead. Get one of everything if you want. I don’t mind.”

  I laugh. “I don’t think so. I couldn’t eat it all.”

  “Sure you could. I can see you like to eat,” he nods.

  My smile falls instantly and I unconsciously sit up a little straighter and suck my stomach in. “I’m actually not that hungry,” I lie.

  “Of course you’re hungry. You look like a girl who can really pack it away.”

  Now, had this comment come from some random guy sitting in the restaurant. I would have given him the finger, or made some smart-ass comment like, “Well, you look like your mother mated with an aardvark, but you don’t hear me making unsolicited commentary.”

  But it isn’t a random stranger. It’s only a date. A shitty date, but one nevertheless.

  “I have to go. I forgot I have to be somewhere. I don’t think this is gonna work, Adam.” I push my chair back and stand up. As I step away from the table, I bump into someone and I immediately swing around.

  “I’m sorry,” I begin to say.

  “Kate! Hi, gorgeous. I was hoping I’d catch up with you here,” and he pulls me into his arms and places his lips on mine.

  Oh, God help me. While I am in outright shock at his boldness, I am feeling his warm lips move softly against mine and I go limp, not that he appears to notice, as his massive biceps are holding onto me tightly. When his head moves away, leaving my lips wet and aching for more, the letdown is acute.

  “I’m sorry, but we’re gonna need this table,” Chad looks at Adam with his eyebrows raised. “So, if you don’t mind.”

  Adam looks at me, still enveloped in Chad’s arms, pressed against his rock-hard chest.

  “Sure,” he mumbles and gets up and walks away.

  Chad looks back at me, his lips mere millimeters from mine. “That guy’s an asshole.”

  “I know,” I breathe.

  “You need to stay away from guys like that.”

  “I should,” I reply. “Why are you here?” My voice is nothing more than a whisper.

  He hasn’t moved. He’s still got a vice-like grip on me, holding me with both arms against the length of his body. I’m looking up at him and trying to read his expression, but all I can focus on are his eyes, his beautiful blue eyes.

  “To see you.”

  “No, really. Why are you here?” I repeat.

  “Kate. I’m here to see you.”

  “Fine. Don’t tell me,” I frown.

  He releases his hold and pushes me back a step, but he still has his hands on my arms. He stares at me. The steely slits are back from yesterday. “Kate? You…” His teeth are gritted.

  “I’m what?” I ask at the same time my stomach growls.

  “You’re hungry,” he laughs, the steely slits gone as quickly as they came. “Let’s get something to eat.”

  I am more than confused as I sit back down. I cover my face with my hands and try to get my thoughts together.

  “I assume,” I reason, “that, that, before, was for Adam… to save me from him?”

  “I did save you,” Chad confirms smugly. “What an asshole.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now let’s order. I’m hungry.”

  The look he gives me confuses me. He’s so weird.

  *****

  Chad pays for my lunch, which he didn’t need to do. I make good money at my job. I spent four years at college so I could make a decent wage, and I do. I mean, I’ll never get rich off what I do for a living, unless I start embezzling, and that’s frowned upon. And after all, he rescued me so I probably should be paying for his lunch as a thank-you. At least I thought that, but now I see how much he’s eating I might just take it back. The man can pack it away.

  “Seriously?” I ask mid chew.

  “What?”

  “I don’t get how you can eat so much and still look like… like that!” I point at him.

  He grins as he takes another bite of his second sandwich. “I burn a lot of calories in the gym.”

  “Hmmm,” I sigh as I fork another piece of lettuce. I’m eating a salad. Granted, it’s a gourmet salad with fancy balsamic dressing and spinach, but it’s still a salad. I even refused the flat bread that normally comes with it. I’m trying to take this getting healthy thing seriously and Chad is sitting across from me with mayo about to drip of his chin.

  “Here,” I frown, pointing to my chin. “You’ve got something here.”

  “Huh?” He’s oblivious.

  I reach out and wipe the mayo off with my finger. The desire to lick it off is fierce, but I wipe it on my napkin instead, my taste buds crying in denial.

  “Thanks,” he smiles at me. “So, I really need to apologize for yesterday. I was not in a great mood and I took it out on you and for that, I am really very sorry.”

  He’s finished his sandwich and wipes his hands on a napkin and then reaches for my hand lying next to my plate. His thumb caresses my knuckles.

  “Am I forgiven? Please?”

  I look down at his hand over mine. There’s something very intimate about the way his thumb is moving slowly back and forth and I’m questioning why he is acting so weird. The kiss, his thumb, is making me uncomfortable. I slip my hand out from under his and pick up my napkin.

  “I thought I did something to anger you.”

  “No,” he shakes his head.

  “Because when I got to the gym you were fine and then after I started working out is when you flipped out.”

  “It has nothing to do with you,” Chad assures me.

  “Then you’re forgiven,” I grin. “And thank you for lunch.”

  “You’re welcome. What are you doing this afternoon?”

  Now my radar is back up on alert. “Not much. What are you doing?”<
br />
  “Not much,” he chuckles. “Wanna do not much together?”

  Okay, so in college I had two guy friends that I would most definitely put into the beautiful category. I loved to hang out with them and they loved to hang out with me. They were, however, very different. Gary was one of the most handsome men I have ever seen in my life. His face was perfect. His hair was perfect, and what I saw of his body was perfect. And he was gay. Luke was also beautiful. He was an athlete and played wide receiver on the football team. He was tall, blonde and built, very much like Chad, but wasn’t all that bright. I helped him with his math classes, even though the school had a tutor for him so he could keep his grades up to play and keep his scholarship.

  I loved them both, and they both loved me. But we were only friends. Gary dated men and Luke dated cheerleaders. The knowledge that beautiful men would never look at me in a romantic or sexual way was cemented in those two relationships.

  And now there’s Chad. He’s either gay or needs help with his homework.

  “Are you gay?” I burst out.

  “Huh? No,” a shocked Chad replies.

  Okay, so he’s my new Luke.

  *****

  Glorious blue sky and sunshine is overhead, but it’s chilly. There is a brisk wind that is making my nose run as we walk through the park. My hands are stuffed in my jacket pockets and every now and then I pull one out to wipe my nose on my sleeve. Attractive? No. Necessary? Yes.

  Chad is walking beside me as we stroll along the sidewalk. There is an art festival today, and dozens of local artists have set up little booths to sell their pretty wares. We stop every so often to look closer at a painting or a wood carving.

  “I wish I had a talent,” I sigh as I study a small carved wooden trinket box.

  “You are talented,” Chad rebukes.

  “Ha!” I huff.

  “Seriously! There is nobody on the planet that makes me laugh like you do. You are funny and have an extremely quick wit.”

  “That’s not a talent.”

  “Yes, it is.” Chad argues. He picks up the little box I’ve been admiring and hands the old man behind the table a twenty-dollar bill. And then he gives me the box. “A gift for the funniest person I know.”

  I smile as he bows before me. Damn! He’s such a good guy.

  We wander for another hour or so and I buy a painting of some wildflowers on a slice of wood for my Mom, and then we head back to the coffee shop. We agree that we are in desperate need of some hot coffee to warm us up.

  Chad, ever the gentleman I’ve discovered, finds us a table and pulls the chair out for me to sit while he goes and orders two coffees at the counter. He returns quickly and hands me a steaming cup. I lift it to my nose and inhale deeply.

  “So what else do you have on the schedule for this afternoon?”

  “I have to review the profiles of the men who’ve asked to meet me,” I say.

  His eyes widen as he looks at me with an expression I can’t read.

  “I can’t imagine there are any better than Adam,” I shrug, “so it might be just a waste of time.”

  “The guy from today?” Chad asks.

  I nod.

  “They’d have to be better than him!”

  “I have my tablet in my bag. Let’s see then.” I reach for my purse hanging on the back of the chair and retrieve my tablet. Chad is sitting stone-faced across the table as I open up match.com and go to my profile and the men who’ve reached out. I place the tablet in between us so we can both look at the profiles.

  “Ugh!” He responds immediately to the first photo that pops up. “He looks like a douche.”

  “What exactly does a douche look like?”

  “That!” Chad points at the man on my tablet. “Look at that smirk on his face. He thinks he’s God’s gift.” Chad shudders and I hide my smile. I don’t like the look of the guy either.

  “How about this one?” I ask, as I scroll through the pictures he’s uploaded to his profile. “Ooooh!”

  “You know what they say about guys like that,” he muses.

  I’m looking at a picture of a car. It’s a BMW, one of those little sports cars. It’s bright red and Malcolm is leaning on the hood with his arms folded across his chest. “What?” I ask, curious what Chad’s response will be.

  “Men with little sports cars have little dicks.”

  I laugh. “Really?”

  “Yep.” Chad is dead serious.

  “And what kind of car do you drive?”

  “Dodge Ram 3500 Hemi Mega Cab.”

  “So you have the big package?” I say.

  “I do. I have a huge package.”

  “Are we still talking about your truck?” I ask.

  “Either or. It’s huge and powerful and does the trick every time. Nobody is ever disappointed with my package.”

  “I bet not,” I reply.

  Our eyes are locked and the tension is palpable. I swallow and feel the heat rising up my neck to my cheeks. This is wrong. Chad isn’t interested in me like that, yet I am flirting with him like I’ve never flirted before.

  “So you’re saying no to Malcolm?”

  “A definite no,” Chad states emphatically.

  “Okay. So, another no. That just leaves one more.” I manage to look down at my tablet and pull up the next profile.

  “No!” Chad snaps before he’s even looked down.

  “But, you haven’t even…”

  “None of these assholes are good enough for you Kate. I don’t know why you’re even bothering with this stupid dating site.”

  Two seconds ago, I was shamelessly flirting with Chad, but in the split second he’s telling me I’m wasting my time, I’ve turned angry.

  “You know, that’s really easy for you to say!” I explode. “Look at you! Greek God and all that.” I’m waving my arms wildly, doing my best Vanna White impression as I point at each part of his body. “Those gorgeous blue eyes and sexy smile. Your bicep is the size of my thigh and you’ve just declared your package better than any other man’s. You can have any woman you want. You could just pick one out of a line and they’d be thrilled to date you. But me? Well, you see, I am not a Greek God, or Goddess, or whatever. I have rolls of fat around my stomach, and my boobs are big and real and droop when I’m not wearing an underwire. My thighs have dimples in them and men don’t find that attractive. I don’t get to stand and pick from a line. I don’t get looked at twice by anyone!” I’m fuming… and yelling. I realize pretty much everyone in the coffee shop is staring at me… and listening to my rant. But I don’t care.

  “I can’t be picky. I don’t have the luxury to be choosy, otherwise I will never find a man that might just like me enough to ask me out on a date! And maybe you’re right. Maybe they aren’t good enough for me. But that’s what I have to choose from.”

  Tears are dangerously close so I grab my tablet and my jacket, swing my purse over my shoulder and run out of the restaurant to my car. I throw my stuff on the passenger seat and drive away before the first tear escapes and begins the waterfall that lasts all the way home.

  It was probably rude to just leave Chad sitting there but I don’t care at this point. I was not going to let him see me cry. Nobody gets to see me cry! And besides, he doesn’t get to decide who I go out with. He’s my goddamn trainer not my life coach. I need a two liter of coke and a bag of Oreos. NOW!

  SEVEN

  As it turns out, the third match.com profile that I didn’t get a chance to look at with Chad, is a real possibility. His name is Blake and he’s thirty-two and divorced. No children but a cat. And he’s a CPA. Now, normally I would list that as a con rather than a pro because many of the CPA’s I have worked with over the years have been less interesting than a plate of overcooked pasta, but Blake likes to mountain bike and travel. Obviously, I’m not into the biking part, and I’m sure he has friends for that, but I do like to travel, not that I’ve done much, but I’d like to. He also works downtown for a large CPA firm that is on
ly a couple of blocks from my building. While he isn’t gorgeous, like say, Chad, he isn’t ugly either, and he has a pleasant smile. The best part, however, is that he wants to meet for drinks after work one day this week. How can I say no?

  I don’t. I agree to meet him on Tuesday at a bar situated about a block from each of our offices. We’ll meet at six and if all goes well, drinks might lead to dinner. We’ll see.

  I’d have suggested to go on Monday, but I have my appointment with Chad after work. Not sure how I feel about that after yesterday and the fit I threw, albeit warranted. I guess I’ll just go and pretend that everything is fine, unless, of course, he’s still in a pissy mood. I just don’t know what gets into him sometimes.

  *****

  Apparently, we are both very good at pretending. Chad is all smiles and overly attentive. It doesn’t seem genuine at all, but I’m acting similarly so I can’t call him out on it.

  It is a great session though. I’ve lost five more pounds and three more inches. I’m happy about my progress and Chad said he was thrilled with my commitment. I haven’t told him that the reason I am achieving the interval goals I’ve set for myself is because I am rewarding myself with each milestone I reach. So far I have 2 pairs of shoes, a purse and pair of diamond studded earrings. I do know how to treat myself when the occasion arises. And damn it! I deserve it!

  “I think it’s time you invested in some new workout clothes,” Chad tells me as we are finishing up with some cool down stretches. “This shirt is hanging on you and I’m afraid you’re going to lose your yoga pants every time you do a squat,” he jokes.

  “Really?” I’m shocked.

  “Really,” he smiles. “You need to show off that body you’ve got hiding under that tent,” he winks.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that!” I’m not even remotely thin enough to let anyone see what’s under my tent.

  “I do,” replies Chad. “Come on, Kate. You look amazing.”

  I do not look amazing. I admit that I look a lot better than I did before Chad started kicking my ass three times a week, but amazing? No, not even close. Besides, I still weigh 187 pounds. A guy could probably look amazing at that weight but not a girl.