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Lydia followed, somewhat reluctantly. “I think this is how murder documentaries start.”
“Yours or mine?” he asked, wrangling keys from his pocket. He unlocked a door on the side of a warehouse.
“True,” she said, catching up. “I could take you.”
Luke grinned, then inclined his head, and Lydia followed him inside.
“What is this place?”
“It used to be a shoe factory back in the day.”
“And now?” Lydia asked as they passed through a hall and entered the old factory floor. The machines were long gone, leaving the space empty and echoey.
Luke didn’t answer, just let Lydia do her little spin and take everything in. If anyone else could appreciate the space, it was her.
“Oh, Luke!” she gasped, and he could tell she’d finally put it together. Her head tipped back to take in the pearly sunbeams cascading down through the skylights. “This place is fantastic.”
“This is where I want my gym. If I can make it happen. It’s owned by an old friend of my father’s. He’s agreed to a great deal on the rent as long as I sort out the business loan to pay for staff and the equipment.”
“Wow.”
He could see her mind running a mile a minute, planning and designing. He appreciated how enthusiastic she was. He hadn’t even bothered to show his family yet. He knew neither of his siblings would get this excited over an empty building the way Lydia did. But this was more than that. This space represented his future, and that’s the part he was excited about.
“Are you going to show me around?” Lydia snagged him by the hand, tugging in a way that made his heart race unexpectedly.
“Um...” He glanced left and right. “This is sort of it. I mean, it’s gonna be empty until I can afford to turn it into an actual gym.”
She made a noise in the back of her throat like she was exasperated with him. “I know it’s emptynow, but what do you envision right here?” She waved her hands toward the wall.
Luke realized this was one of the things he liked most about Lydia—her ability to dream, to imagine. She didn’t see an empty warehouse. She already saw his gym, fully functional, people sweating, hearts pounding, exercise classes in full swing.
He pointed to the floor. “I want a circular reception desk here.”
“In the middle?”
He nodded. “I want potential clients to have to walk through the space, get a feel for it, see people working out. That way by the time they get to the desk, they’re already imagining themselves as a member. And over there,” he said, gesturing to the wall she’d originally pointed out, “I’m thinking mirrors.”
“Gotta have those for the gym selfies.”
Luke laughed, turning as his floor plan came to life. He walked Lydia through the space, pointing out invisible exercise machines. He opened doors to dusty, unused rooms and called them spin studios and lockers. “This hall,” he continued, “will probably house staff offices, maybe a lunchroom.”
“And your office?” she asked.
He turned and pointed to a set of stairs. It led to an office on the second floor with a window that looked out over the entire hypothetical gym. “Up there.” Saying it all out loud made it feel real. Too real. Luke caught himself grinning from ear to ear, and quickly reeled in the smile.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I just don’t want to get ahead of myself.”
“If you want to make this a reality, then you have to put it out into the universe.”
He tipped his head in her direction. “What if the universe says no?”
“What if the universe is saying ask and you shall receive?”
Luke didn’t believe in manifesting his dreams, but hedidbelieve in hard work. He believed in all the late nights he’d spent working on his business plan, creating spreadsheets with hypothetical budgets and employees and equipment breakdowns. He believed in talking with Mrs. Amisfield over the phone, asking her questions and clarifying his concerns. These were the things that would lead him to success. Not simply...wishing for it. If he could wish things into existence, he would have asked for someone to finish his market research. That was the last hurdle he had to tackle before he’d be ready to present his plan to Mrs. Amisfield for submission.
“Just try it,” Lydia said. “Close your eyes.”
