Page 43 of Trouble from Abroad
I stop the hundredth replay and possible interpretation of “I’m not letting you go just yet” when Preston parks in front of the house. It was driving me insane, but it’s also the best track my brain has ever put on repeat.
He hasn’t even locked the car when I blurt, “Do you need me to get anything ready for your session? Any drink you like during workouts?”
I need to keep my mind busy. And speak slower.
“I take it back,” he says with a sass I haven’t been introduced to. “You didn’t assist Liam. You babysat him, didn’t you?”
“It’s called making myself useful, so you can focus on what matters. And you haven’t answered my question.”
“I’m more than capable of fixing my own drink.”
“Congratulations on being a functioning adult. Now come to the kitchen and humor me.”
He huffs at first, but he’s smiling by the time he reaches the cupboard and pulls out his concoction of powders. Protein, green tea, and electrolytes. They turn the shaker bottle radioactive green, but who am I, the spirulina chugger, to judge?
With no idea what to do next, I head to the gym and start checking the equipment. As if I didn’t already disinfect the whole damn room yesterday.
“Now you’re just messing with me,” Dr. Preston says,arriving right as I’m on all fours flannelling corners that would require a cotton bud to properly reach.
No, Doctor. It’s God who’s taking the piss.Only, I don’t know what I did to deserve her punishment.
I shoot up, mildly horrified. He doesn’t even try to hide the smirk.
Preston ogles my new outfit just as shamelessly. Leopard print leggings. A loose, oversized tee with slashed sleeves revealing a bright orange tank top underneath. I don’t know why I did it. Probably thought it’d help me blend in while I lurk—ahem, observe—the session.
“Okay, the gym’s officially spotless,” I say, dusting off my hands. “But if you have a power washer lying around, I’ll give it another go.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Fair enough.” I nod toward the small pink dumbbells I know aren’t his. “But since we already started spring cleaning… anything else you want me to bin for you?”
That throws him for a second. But I’d rather not guess what else isn’t his and chuck everything that was Blake’s out at once. Rip-the-bandage technique.
He scans the space, and I can tell by the tightness in his jaw what still lingers from her. But he tells me anyway.
Forget pressure washers. I’m bringing sage next time.
It’s not much, so I’ll manage everything in one trip. Halfway up the stairs, he hits me with what I’m now convinced is his favorite line. “You don’t have to do this, you know?”
“I’m here to doexactlythis, Dr. Preston.” I suck in a breath. “Please, get this through that thick skull of yours: I’m here to help your family heal and move forward.”
I pause because I’m lugging about fifteen kilos of emotional baggage in gym gear, and arguing with a stubborn man mid-stairs is not on my cardio plan.
“My jobis to make your life easier. So that’s what I’m doing.” I lift the weights in my arms with a little bump. “This?” I add, with a flourish. “This is just the beginning.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
preston
The sessionwith the personal trainer ends, and I have to admit it—working with a professional makes a difference. I’m wrung out and wired all at once.
I pushed past my limit more times than I can count. Apparently, nothing motivates a man more than a very distracting, Kindle-reading audience, who spent the entire hour ‘observing’ from a beanbag in the corner.
I might need her stationed nearby for every session from now on. Strictly for performance enhancement, obviously.
John and I exchange a quick handshake and say our goodbyes, but instead of heading for the stairs, he veers toward Mia. I follow, suspicion already threading up my shoulders.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mia,” he says.
