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“We’ll follow up again to review your progress.”
Luke let out a breath. “That would be great.”
Mrs. Amisfield pulled up her calendar. “What kind of timeline are you working with?”
“Maybe we could touch base in about a month?” Luke said. That should give him enough time to get a good start on the market research.
“Sounds good.” Mrs. Amisfield stood, reaching to shake Luke’s hand again. “Contact my assistant to schedule another appointment.”
Luke left the bank and practically bounded to the subway. He had to get to the gym for a client consultation, but he was glowing with something—pride, maybe—and he couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. This was a huge first step toward something he’d been dreaming about for a long time, and while hunting down the information for his business plan was going to entail a lot of research, he was decidedly optimistic.
Luke made his way from the subway to the gym and headed straight for the front desk. Dara handed him a folder. She was a five-foot-nothing ball of attitude fresh out of high school who spent most of her downtime ragging on him instead of actually doing her job. As the youngest of three kids, Luke had no idea what having an annoying younger sibling was like, though he imagined Dara summed it up pretty perfectly. But as much as she was a pain in his backside, she was excellent with the clients—usually. He opened the folder, scanning the first document.
“You know, it helps if you actually get some information from the clients,” he noted.
“I did.” Dara poked at the paper. “Lydia McKenzie. Running.”
“You don’t even have her phone number written down.”
Dara cocked her head, staring at him like he was a piece of gum stuck to a subway seat. “Am I supposed to do your whole job for you? It’s a client consult. Go consult.”
“Is she even here?”
“I put her in the waiting area.”
“Perfect,” he said, setting off. “I’ll grab her on the way to my office.”
“Plumbers are in your office today,” Dara said. “Repairing that leaky pipe. Then the drywall guy will need to get in there to repair the hole they leave behind.”
“Erg.” Luke turned on the spot. “I forgot about that.”
“My office is free,” Jules called, coming down the hall toward them. “I’m the only spin instructor here today, so between that and yoga, I’ll be in one of the studios for most of the day.”
“Thank you,” Luke said. He high-fived Jules as she passed, then headed to the waiting area to collect Lydia. When he drew closer, he realized it was the same woman that he’d run into earlier this week—literally. Arguments could be made that it was actually her fault—that maybe she’d walked into him—but his mother had raised him to be a gentleman. Plus, it probablywashis fault. His mind had been elsewhere, and then suddenly there’d been a perfect stranger in his arms.
A stranger who currently had her head thrown back, staring at the ceiling. “Everything okay?” he asked, his own eyes lifting to see what she was looking at.
“You again?” There was a surprised hitch to her voice as she tilted her head, her long, strawberry blond ponytail swinging over her shoulder while her green eyes appraised him.
Her cheeks had a smattering of freckles, but it was her expressive eyebrows that really gave life to her face. Luke watched one brow slowly arch. From that expression alone, he might have learned a thousand things. The most obvious was that she was clearly thinking about their collision, if the sudden color in her cheeks was anything to go by.
“Me again,” he said. “Guess the front desk staff figured since I took your breath away the other day we might be a good client-trainer fit.”
“You let that one go right to your head,” she muttered.
“I have to keep my ego inflated somehow.”
“Clearly.”
“I’m still not sure what we’re doing staring at the ceiling.”
“Oh, sorry!” She snatched her bag and climbed out of her chair. “I was just admiring the old brickwork.”
Luke pursed his lips. “Can’t say I’ve ever given it much thought, to be honest.”
Lydia smiled, shaking her head. “I’m an architect, so I spend a lot of time staring at boring things like walls and ceilings. I also really appreciate exposed brickwork in early nineteenth-century buildings.”
Luke laughed. “That makes so much more sense.” He reached for her hand. “I’m Luke.”
