Susan Donovan - He Loves Lucy

“Uh. That’s the whole point,” she replied.

Stephan laughed. “Well, we need to take you out to celebrate. Whad’ya say? Lunch for everyone tomorrow at Bugatti? My treat. Anything you want. They have the best pesto ravioli in town.”

And with that pronouncement, he was gone.

Lola DiPaolo looked like she was hitting the tanning bed a bit too hard these days. At this rate she’d have skin like a wrinkled paper bag in another few years, Theo decided. But then, Lola wasn’t known for her long-term approach to anything.

‘Theodore.“ She looked up from her bodybuilding magazine and smiled.

“Lola. How’s life?”

“Fun as always. How’s yours?”

“Busy.” Theo walked over to the wall of mailboxes in the staff lounge, where each trainer had a cubbyhole for mail and phone messages.

He sorted through a stack of messages and found the usual-clients who needed to reschedule, clients who wanted information on the military basic training course, clients who said they needed to stop their workouts because they were going to be out of the country or were moving.

He hated that. More than anything in the world, Theo hated seeing months of hard work fizzle away as people returned to bad habits, just because they felt familiar and took less effort. He hated it when people gave up on themselves.

He felt Lola behind him. This was bad news.

“Hey, Theo.” Her breath came hot down on his neck. He felt the front of her thighs nearly touch the back of his. “You know, I was wondering-”

“The answer will always be no. Back off, Lola.” He continued to sort through messages and ignored her, then noted that the hours in the tanning bed must have damaged Lola’s hearing, because her hands went to his hips and the rest of her pressed nice and snug against the back of his body, from calf to shoulder. He felt the outline of all her parts-the parts molded by endless hours of hard work as well as those that were God-given.

“I said no .” Theo grabbed her roaming hands and extricated himself from his coworker and near… What word could he use to describe what had almost happened with Lola? She hadn’t been a date. She hadn’t even been a friend. She’d been a perfect body, at a time when he hurt so much that he thought a few hours with a perfect body would dull the pain.,

Thank God he’d recovered his senses in time to zip up and go home. Unfortunately, Lola didn’t feel the same sense of relief-she’d taken his rebuff as a challenge.

“Well, Theo. As usual, it’s your loss.” A nasty hiss hung off the end of the last word as Lola returned to the recliner and her magazine.

Theo headed for the door.

“So how’s it going with the hopeless heifer?”

He stopped. His ears burned. His stomach twisted with anger. He turned to her. “What are you talking about, Lola?”

She shook out her straight blond hair. “You know. The fat marketing chick. Lucy Cunningham. You two seem to be getting very cozy.” She shot him a snide smile.

“She’s a terrific woman and she’s working hard.” Theo had every intention of leaving the room, but he couldn’t believe what Lola said next.

“If you’re sleeping with her, that’s against policy. Not to mention disgusting.”

Theo whipped around and stared at her. He was so livid, his mind went blank. “What did you just say to me?”

“You heard me.” She thumbed through the ads for protein bars and starch blockers.

It took a moment, but Theo’s head cleared. “You’re a real class act, Lola.”

She giggled and kept her attention on the magazine.

“Listen up. From now on, keep your nasty, comments-and your hands-to yourself. Not interested and never will be.”

Lola looked up at him, her eyes narrow and mean. “You sure were once.”

And it was the lowest fifteen minutes of his life.

“We’d look great together, Theo.”

“No, we would not. Let it go, Lola.” He slammed the door on his way out, only to run right into Tyson.

“What’s up, Theo? You look mad as a rattlesnake.”

Theo pushed past, shaking his head. “Nothing.”

Tyson caught up with him. “Hey! Whoa, Redmond. Is this about the Lucy Cunningham woman? I thought she was doing great.”

Theo stopped and looked at his friend. “She is.”

“And you?” Tyson yawned, rubbing his eyes. “How’re you doin‘?”

Theo grinned, amused by Tyson’s efforts to stay awake. “I’m keepin‘ it together.”

“Just remember, man, you’re a personal trainer, not a miracle worker.”

Theo laughed. “No, I’m a trainer and miracle worker. Don’t have any choice at this point. And you need to get more sleep.” He continued walking, spotting his nine o’clock appointment waiting for him on the leather couch, the cute, trim, red-headed Cecile.

“How’s the little bro?”

Theo smiled at Tyson. He was always so cool about Buddy and had been a great help with coaching these last few years. “He’s good. He wants you to come over Sunday to watch the game. We’re having some of the athletes over. You up for it?”

“Always.” A big grin burst across Tyson’s face. “Those boys know how to party.”

Coming from Tyson, that was a real compliment.

When Gia Altamonte called Lucy at work an hour before and invited her to lunch, Lucy had been shocked. She was way beyond shock now, staring at the supermodel sitting across the VIP table from her at Larios on the Beach, snarfing down a plate of rice and beans and roasted Cuban pork.

“I think I forgot to eat yesterday,” Gia said, her mouth so full it temporarily muted her unmistakable speech.

“Yeah. Happens to me all the time,” Lucy said.

Gia laughed. “I’ve been meaning to check on you, you know, after the life squad, but I’ve been in Belize for the swimsuit shoot and then I had to go to Los Angeles and then frickin‘ Greenland . You ever been to

Greenland? It’s nice. So you doing better now, or what?“

Lucy loved Gia’s voice. It made her smile. It was high enough to be painful to the ear, grating yet endearing, especially in person, when it could be seen emerging from those sultry, heavily insured lips.

Perhaps it was cruel that God gave Gia Altamonte that voice to go with that mouth, because an acting career would forever be out of her reach. Then again, maybe that voice was proof that God did have a sense of humor, or that he wanted to give the rest of the normal schlubs on earth some shred of superiority.

“I’m doing great. Haven’t choked since.”

“You like Cuban food, Lucy?”

“Love it.” Lucy had ordered a side salad with oil and vinegar, a side order of black beans, and a grilled mahimahi fillet-not bad for an impromptu lunch out and nothing she’d have to be ashamed to write down in her journal.

“Good, ‘cause I’m gonna have my mama make you something. She’s a big fan of yours.”

Lucy started. “I have a fan?”

“Of course you do!” Gia said, laughing. “My mama and me make two!”

Lucy couldn’t help but be amused at the otherworldly nature of this situation. She had been invited to “do” lunch with a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model in the VIP room of a chic restaurant on Miami Beach. Lucy didn’t even know models ate lunch. And she’d certainly never been inside a VIP room of anything before, except maybe for the back office at the Order of the Eagles Aerie 982 in Pittsburgh, when her dad once brought her along when he had to pick up a roll of raffle tickets.

“How’s Theo treating you?” Gia asked after she’d ordered coffee for both of them.

“He’s busting my hump, but it’s going well.”

“Mmmm. He’s a cutie, no?”