Page 53 of Safe Hands

“I think so. Bad news, though. Paige had to bail, she’s not feeling great. I’ve got her kit, so we’ll have to be cameraman, director and star.”

“Starring roles will not be necessary,” Carly said, closing the laptop. “Shall we?”

Out on the gym floor, the noise was worse: the clatter of metal overhead, the scrape of something being dragged across the roof, voices muffled through the ceiling.

“Five minutes,” Carly said, glancing up. “They’re finishing the last section.”

“Could be worse,” Lauren said. “At least they’re not drilling.”

“Give it a minute.”

Lauren huffed a laugh, dropped her bag by the mats and had the tripod out before Carly could tell her to.

“Camera or demo?”

“You demo,” Carly said. “I’ll direct.”

“Cool.”

Behind them, the door creaked.

“Don’t mind me,” Beth said, drifting in with her mug as if she had every right. “Thought I’d see how the magic happens.”

“There won’t be any magic.”

“Shame. I brought snacks.”

Of course she had. Beth claimed a bench and settled in with the entire packet of biscuits, like someone waiting for the main feature.

“Fine,” Carly said. “But you’re on camera.”

Beth perked up. “Am I?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. I feel useful already.”

“Full production crew,” Lauren said.

“Don’t get used to it.”

Lauren just smiled and stepped onto the mat. “Ready, boss.”

Carly picked up the clipboard. “We’ll keep this tight. Clear demonstrations. No unnecessary commentary.”

“Got it. Keep it simple.”

Not quite the same thing. Carly let it go. For now.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Beth said, jabbing the record button hard enough to wobble the tripod.

Carly steadied it and nodded.

“Hi, I’m Lauren. I’m a sports massage therapist here at the gym, and today I’m going to take you through three simple things you can do before training to—”

“Not things,” Carly said.

Lauren blinked. “Sorry?”