Chapter Four

“Okay, let’s start,” Lucy said, gritting her teeth.

“It’s not the SATs, Lucy. Relax. It’s just a few questions so I can get a sense of what to plan for you,” Spencer said easily, sitting down at a desk across from her and grabbing a sheet of paper and a pen.

“I’m not… this isn’t my scene. I’m just nervous, and embarrassed, and overwhelmed, okay? Please don’t take it personally,” Lucy pleaded. Spencer seemed like a really nice, genuine guy, and she didn’t want him to think it was him that was causing her all this anxiety. “It’s just that I don’t know you, and I know you’re about to ask a bunch of personal questions. It’s weird.”

“It is weird,” Spencer agreed. “But I have to do an intake so I can know you a bit better, right?”

“An intake? God, now I’m at the morgue,” Lucy muttered and Spencer laughed.

“I know, I hate that term, but it sounded better than ‘tell me everything about yourself so I can plan a torture schedule’ when I was typing up the form,” Spencer deadpanned, and Lucy bit back a grin.

“Yeah, that would be a bit hard to fit on the top of your paper,” she agreed. “Okay, fire away.”

“Okay, I know your name, but how old are you, Lucy?”

“Twenty eight. How old are you?”

“Thirty two,” he fired back without hesitation, still looking at his paper.  “Why are you here?”

Lucy cocked an eyebrow at him when he glanced up, then gestured to her body as if to say ‘duh’. He rolled his eyes slightly. “That’s not an answer. I’m sure weight loss is a goal, but what else? Do you want to be strong? Healthy? Do you have a training goal, like doing a marathon or riding one hundred miles on a bike? Something tangible besides the stupid scale?”

“The scale isn’t stupid,” Lucy retorted automatically.

“It is here,” Spencer shot back. “If you work with me, and I know it’s still your choice, but my focus won’t be getting you to a specific number on the scale. Working out will help you get there, sure, but it’ll also help you be strong and live a long time, yeah? We can totally work on some weight loss solutions, but I’d like to see you really get stronger and healthier.”

Lucy sighed, appreciating his thoughts. “I have to hike up Kilimanjaro.”

“Have to?” Spencer prodded, jotting something on his sheet.

Lucy nodded. “My brother is getting married at the peak later this year, so yes, have to.”

“Maybe after we work together a while, it’ll be a ‘want to’, not a ‘have to’,” Spencer mused. “Do you walk now?”

“Uh,” Lucy stalled, trying to remember the last time she’d gone on a dedicated ‘walk’. “A little?”

“Okay, good. What about a typical day when it comes to food?”

Lucy shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, nothing but water and quinoa,” she lied.

Now it was Spencer’s turn to cock an eyebrow.

Lucy recanted. “I like to cook. A lot. And eat. A lot. And not always good stuff, but not usually bad stuff either. I just… eat too much of it.”

“Okay,” Spencer said gently. “We’ll work together to make sure you are eating the right fuel for your workouts. That’s what we’re focusing on – fuel for workouts, not food for pleasure or comfort. I’m guessing you are an emotional eater, maybe?”

Lucy nodded, her eyes suddenly welling up as she remembered sitting on the floor of her kitchen at two o’clock in the morning, eating an entire chocolate cake a week after Ryan died, crying the whole time. “Um, yeah,” she said, clearing her throat.

Spencer noted the wash of emotions floating across her face, but said nothing. “We’ll work on that. No worries. Now, what else should I know? What about injuries?”

“Nothing serious,” Lucy said, glad to be on to another topic. “I mean, my knees are creaky and my back hurts if I stand too long, but other than that, I’m okay.”

Spencer nodded and made more notes. “Anything else I should know before we start?”

Lucy shook her head no. “Is it my turn?” she asked as Spencer started to stand.

“Your turn for what?” Spencer asked.

“I don’t know you… why should I put my ‘transformation’, or whatever phrase you people use, in your hands?”

“First of all, I’m not ‘you people’,” Spencer fired back with a grin. “I’m just a guy who likes to help people get healthy. I’m not Jillian Michaels screaming in your face. Unless you need that sort of thing for motivation, but it’s generally not my scene. But hey, ask away. What would you like to know?”

“You own this place?”

“I do,” Spencer said. “Going on five years now. It’s just me – I don’t have any partners or anything. I work with every single client individually, one-on-one, which is why there isn’t much equipment. You won’t ever have to share space with anyone else. It’s very private.”

Lucy really liked that aspect of it, but keep her poker face intact. “Why did you give it such a lame name?”

Spencer laughed. “I guess I’m not very creative, and it hit the nail on the head. Total body, you know?” He paused, looking at her. “What would you have called it?”

Lucy thought about it. “I don’t know. Something catchy, like The White Rabbit or The Sparkly Unicorn. Things that don’t exist – just like my fitness level.”

“Those sound like strip joints.”

Lucy shrugged, nonplussed by his observation. “More attention getting than your name. And I’m sure the website address is available.”

“I bet it isn’t,” Spencer said and Lucy laughed.

“Okay, moving on. Credentials?”

Spencer rattled off a bunch of schools, degrees, certifications and letters that probably meant something to someone in the industry, but to Lucy sounded like nuclear launch codes for all she knew. She nodded sagely, though, and then continued.

“What’s your success rate?”

“Of all the clients I’ve had in the last five years, ninety six percent are healthy and strong and have kept the weight off.”

“And the other four percent?”

Spencer sighed slightly. “Either they weren’t ready for the change, sustained an injury and quit, or walked away before we really got going. I get results, Lucy. You just have to trust me.”

“I don’t trust very easily,” Lucy admitted softly. “I don’t know this world very well.”

“I’ll teach you, I promise. What world do you know?” Spencer asked.

Lucy shrugged. “I know how to make a mean batch of fried chicken.”

Spencer shook his head, silently chastising her. “Stop deflecting. What world do you know? What should I know about Lucy Hildebrand?”

She shrugged again. “I don’t know… I like to cook. I’m a massage therapist. I read a lot. I love the ocean. Is that good for starters?”

“Yeah,” Spencer said with a kind smile. “It’s good for starters. You can teach me those worlds while we work in mine, okay?”

She thought about it for a moment, and then nodded. “Okay.”

“So am I hired?”

“Well…”


5035/50000