Chapter 4: Fifty-Five a Month

I got to the gym at ten to nine, and Dustin was still there.

I saw him through the glass before I opened the door.

He was in the ring in a gray hoodie, throwing slow punches at nothing, with six or seven evening members leaning on the ropes to watch him.

Dustin is six feet tall and good-looking.

He saw me at the same moment, and his whole face changed into the one he used on clients.

I should have turned around.

Instead I thought about how I had cried at my desk three times that week, and I opened the door.

"Rae," Dustin said, and ducked through the ropes. "Thank God. We need to talk."

"Not here."

"Then where? You changed the locks."

"I changed the locks because you were still using your key at two in the morning to get your things."

A few of the members looked away, politely.

Gina was at the counter with her arms folded, and she did not look away at all.

"Look, I made a mistake," Dustin said, lower, stepping close.

He smelled like sweat and the cologne I bought him for Christmas.

"One mistake, with a girl who meant nothing."

"Four months of mistakes."

"Okay. A long mistake." He tried a smile. "Come home. We'll sort it out like adults."

"Whose home? You told Sasha you were between apartments."

He flinched.

"She told you that?"

"She cried while she told me."

"Then she's a liar and a kid."

His voice sharpened.

"Rae, you're upset, and I get it. But coming to my gym to make a scene is not you."

"I'm not making a scene."

"You're here at nine at night in leggings. Who put this idea in your head?"

"Nobody."

"You've never worked out a day in your life."

"I've been here two days," I said. "I'm getting better."

Somebody in the ring snorted.

Dustin looked around at the faces and his jaw set.

"Fine. Let's talk about the money, then, since you want to be an adult."

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