She clicks her tongue. “We need to talk about howunprofessionalyour little yoga session with the gym’s new client was. Partner yoga?Really?”
I stare at her dumfounded.
“First of all, what I do after my shift is none of your goddamn business. Second of all, how’d you—” I begin.
She waves her hand like she’s waving away the world’s most inane question.“It’s all over the gym and someone posted about it on Instagram.”
I narrow my gaze, totally confused.
Who the hell would post about me and Carlie on Instagram?
Dylan stands up straight and crosses his arms. “Jillian, this isn’t the place for?—”
“I’ll decide what’sappropriate, Dylan,” she snaps, then turns her focus back to me. “I can’t believe you’d be so reckless. What if people start talking and it impacts the quality of the gym? You’re supposed to be a professional, Adam.”
Her words hang between us, and I can feel Dylan’s heavy gaze boring a hole into the back of my head.
I take a deep breath, trying to keep the situation from escalating right here in his coffee shop. This was supposed to be a quick stop to chill with my best friend, not a stage for Jillian’s drama.
I glance over my shoulder at Dylan, who wisely decides to busy himself with cleaning the espresso machine, and giving us the illusion of privacy.
Jillian’s presence, and her accusations, however—they’re the last things I need right now. Especially with thoughts of Carlie already occupying too much of my headspace.
I feel my jaw tighten. “Like I said, what I do with my clients is none of your damn business. And last I checked, you’re not exactly the authority on professionalism.”
My eyes dart to the guy beside her.
She balks, her face flushing a deep red, and for a moment, I think she’s going to cause a scene for that one. Because let’s face it, at least I’m not cheating on anyone.
But Dylan steps in, his voice calm and firm. “Jillian, you need to get coffee somewhere else today.”
She huffs, muttering something under her breath before storming out, her new boyfriend following without a word.
Real stand-up guy, that one.
I let out a sigh, feeling the weight of her words and the uncertainty they bring.
When the door has closed behind them, Dylan lets out a low whistle. “Exes, huh? Can’t live with them, can’t avoid them in a town this size.”
“Yeah, especially when you work with them,” I mutter, running my palm over my face.
“Truth. I thought for sure, I was gonna have to bust out my authoritative, business owner voice,” Dylan chuckles, but his tone quickly changes to one of concern. “You okay, man? Jillian really knows how to push down all of your buttons at the same time.”
I shrug, trying to shake off the lingering frustration. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just typical Jillian bullshit. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”
He nods, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Still, the whole Instagram thing is weird. You sure there wasn’t some crazy fan at the gym who could’ve posted about whatever the two of you were doing? Which I’m gonna need more details on, by the way.”
I frown, pondering over it. Truthfully, I was so engrossed with Carlie that I didn’t even notice anything outside our bubble.
Sidestepping his last sentence, I say, “I don’t know. It was just a yoga session. Carlie’s new to working out, so I thought it would help. I mean, sure, it was a bit close, because we ended up being in partner yoga, but it was all professional.” The image of Carlie, the way we moved together during the session, flashes in my mind, causing a stir of something I can’t quite define.
“Sounds like it was more than just ‘professional’ for someone to make such a fuss about it,” Dylan observes, a teasing glint in his eyes.
My expression deadpans.
He clears his throat, taking another sip of his coffee. “So, Mr. Yoga now, huh? Weren’t we just talking about Melissa? Was she your instructor?”
Thankfully, our yoga session wasnottaught by the enigmatic instructor with a pet ferret.