Page 12 of Keepsakes and Kismet

“Um, I still don’t know. Where would we even find a man?”

She cracks her knuckles. “Great question. That brings me to our next topic: hiring a man.”

“Romy…”

“As much as I hate catering to gender essentialism, I do know when to choose my battles. We’re missing out on an entire market in male-dominated industries. We could bring in so many opportunities—and the money that comes with them—if we hired a man, even part time.”

I huff, folding my arms. “Personally, I think it’s sexist.”

Her unconvinced expression radiates skepticism. “You think it’s sexist for that barbershop in Grand Rapids to request a man to promote their new line of grooming products… for men?”

I purse my lips. “Well, who’s to say I couldn’t influence the hell out of beard oil?”

Romy taps her chin. “What about that male sauna attendant request we got last month? The one who had to talk up the guided sessions?”

She has me there.

Averting my eyes, I mutter, “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

When I look up again, Romy’s mouth is twisted to one side. “Listen, I don’t want to mess up the dynamic or make work uncomfortable for you, so if you really don’t⁠—”

I hold my hand up. “Honestly, the sessions with this new therapist have been helping and I’m starting to feel ready to branch out. I do want to build our business. I promise.”

Romy nods. “But also: hos before bros.”

I lift my hand up, palm facing out. “Amen, sister.”

She glances at the large work calendar hanging on the wall. “You’ve got the smoothie gig today?”

“Yep. I have a prep session with the owner for the grand opening next weekend. It’s up in Toledo, so I should get going…” I trail off and make puppy dog eyes at her. “As soon as we hang the amber twinkle lights in the window. Pretty please?” I ask sweetly, pressing my hands together in a praying motion.

She sighs in resignation. “Fine. I’ll get the damn pumpkins.”

* * *

Unzipping my light puffer jacket, I take a last look at my outfit in the window outside Globe Fitness. As someone whose workouts consist solely of walks outside, I had to do some research on current gym trends to be at my best. I should blend right in with my leggings, matching crop top, and light makeup look. My knock-off tennis shoes look nearly identical to the most popular name brand. The majority of my clothes are close-enough dupes, and no one can ever tell.

Clients want me to look the part, and I always wear what’s required to the intake meeting so they know what to expect on the day of the job. Each time I exit the dressing room in our office looking like a new person, Romy lovingly decrees me “Real-life Barbie.”

When I push open the door, the gym looks nice and newly renovated. The smoothie shop owner, Kevin, mentioned that Healthtopia is just off Globe Fitness’s main lobby, so I don’t need to check in with an ID. I head that way, passing giant motivational posters on the walls.

Sweat now. Shine later.

Train until your body’s insane.

Strength (/streNG(k)TH/) noun. Power. Force. YOU.

I roll my eyes. The last one came straight from a thesaurus.

Healthtopia feels much more welcoming. The walls have a neon pink swirl design on them, and the chairs are an eclectic collection of bright colors. I don’t see Kevin, but a tall man stands at the counter with his back to me. He’s wearing a short sleeve polo, giving me a view of his defined arm muscles. This shop isn’t open yet, so I wonder if he’s lost.

Should I go back to the lobby and call Kevin? The thought of being completely alone with a man I don’t know sends a shiver down my spine, and⁠—

I cut that train of thought off.

Because I do know this man. Kind of.

When he turns to the side, I realize I’ve seen that thick, wavy auburn hair before. The scattered freckles dotting his cheek. The strong jawline.