In the reverberating silence that follows, a deeper worry gnaws at me.
What’s going to happen to Carlie?
Our paths had just begun to intertwine, and now, with this abrupt exit, I’m haunted by the possibility that I might never see her again.
CHAPTER12
Carlie
I’m standing outside the gym, decked out in what I optimistically call my ‘beast mode’ attire.
Honestly, though, it’s more like‘slightly disgruntled house cat mode,’but who’s checking?
It’s not my favorite workout outfit, but it’s the backup in case I ever raced out of the house like my hair was on fire and forgot where I was going. It seemed likely earlier in the week.
The door seems heavier now as I push it open.
Had I known things were about to go monumentally sideways, I would have made more of an effort to make it to my workout sessions with Adam the past two days.
The surprise of him getting fired over me—over those stupid posts—it isn’t sitting well.
As I enter the space, I half expect to see him with his trademark grin (no seriously, there are posts online about it) and a dumbbell in hand, waiting for me.
Which is stupid, because I just saw him leave the building with a box in his arms.
Instead, it’s just the regular gym buzz—treadmills humming, weights clanking, and no Adam in sight.
I head to the main desk, nearly tripping along the way.
“Hey, um, weird question, but I need to find out who my trainer is today? I was working with Adam, but I just heard …” I let my voice drift off, trying to sound casual but probably failing spectacularly.
They must all know at this point that I’m the problem child.
The receptionist, a girl with a ponytail so tight it could double as a facelift, gives me a once-over.
“Just a sec,” she says, tapping away at her computer like it owes her money.
I stand there, shifting weight from one foot to the other, mentally preparing myself for a workout session with some newbie who will want to break me because they have something to prove.
“And you are ...?” Ponytail asks, squinting at the screen.
“Carlie. Carlie with a ‘C’ and an ‘ie.’ Not a ‘y.’ It’s a whole thing,” I ramble, immediately regretting it.
“Right, Carlie with a ‘C’. Your trainer today will be Jillian.”
“Jillian?” The name seems familiar, but my scrambled brain can’t figure out why.
I try to hide my disappointment.
It’s so weird to think back to the beginning of the week—the week!—when I sincerely hoped my trainer would be a woman.
I was pleasantly surprised to find out that Adam was pretty awesome. He could handle my clumsiness like a pro and even enjoyed some flirty banter.
However, no Adam means no more banter and no more pretending that I know what I’m doing with those scary-looking machines.
“Yep, Jillian’s great. You’ll like her,” Ponytail assures me, but she might as well be telling me I’ll enjoy a waterboarding session.
“Great, looking forward to it,” I lie, plastering on my best fake smile.