Songbird (Songbird, #1) (7 page)

Stephen, I can’t do this anymore. It’s over. Tara

That would have to do. I knew after two years it was completely inadequate, and I was taking the coward’s way out, but what could I write that would explain how I was feeling?

How about,
Stephen, you’re an ass who has turned me into a puppet, and manipulated me into giving up the only thing that ever made me happy: my music
.

Or,
Stephen, the only person, in your opinion, who could ever be good enough for you is you, so I hope you and your hand are very happy together
.

Now I was just being ridiculous, but I was on a roll.
Dear Shithead, I am not a worthless shell of a person and I deserve to be loved and supported, not used as a doormat, so I’m getting the fuck outta here
.

I was laughing and crying at the same time. I seriously needed counselling.

You’re doing the right thing; this is the start of something great.

As I was walking back through the foyer, past the hall table, I did something I thought I would never do. I rearranged some of the pieces on display. It was something minor, something most people wouldn’t think twice about, but I knew it would really annoy Stephen.

Smiling to myself, I turned and left the house for the last time.

The following morning, Kelli and I were going about our usual routine, part of which was making a packed lunch to take to work—anything to save a little bit of money. I looked at the sandwich fillings sitting on the bench, totally uninspired.

“Let’s buy lunch today,” I said. Kelli started to protest, but I raised my hand and cut her off. “My treat. It’s the least I can do, considering you won’t let me contribute to the rent.”

“Okay,” she said resignedly. “But nothing over the top. You need to save some money.”

At lunch time we headed off for a walk down the bustling main street, which was lined with cafes and restaurants of every origin. The aromas wafting out onto the sidewalk were delicious and made my mouth water, and the customers sitting at tables that had been set up outside on the footpath were talking and eating as they relaxed in the sun.

I pointed to the Japanese restaurant. The sushi was always fresh there, and we both loved it, but Kelli just shook her head. We had agreed on a sandwich, so she continued to head straight to the little cafe we sometimes went to on the rare occasion we decided to treat ourselves.

I was standing three deep in the queue, waiting to be served, when Kelli pushed her way through and came up beside me, handing me a bright green piece of paper.

“What do you think?” She looked pleased with herself, as if she’d found some treasure.

Taking the paper from her hand, I read it, and then smiled back at her. “Sounds great. I, for one, really need to do some form of exercise.”

The paper was a flyer for a new gym that had opened nearby at the beginning of the month. They were trying to draw in new members so were offering a two for one deal … perfect!

“But can we afford it?” I asked. I knew money was tight for both of us.

“Let’s go down there after work tonight and find out.”

We hurriedly packed up at 5:00pm on the dot, and made our way to the gym which was only one and a half blocks away, in one of the many large office buildings on the same street as ours.

We could hear the music pumping through the speakers as soon as we entered the foyer on the second floor. It was typical workout music, designed to motivate, and Kelli and I did a little spontaneous dance to the beat as we made our way through the entry double doors. It smelled of fresh paint and new carpet, and the equipment looked new and shiny. The workout areas were spacious and brightly lit, but there were only a handful of people there.

This could work in our favour.
They need the business.

A very bubbly young girl at the reception desk, who was wearing a
Pump It
polo shirt, welcomed us. She quickly buzzed someone and then directed us to take a seat, before turning back around to resume her filing task. I smiled as I noticed
Pump It
was also emblazoned across the back of her tracksuit pants.

I nudged Kelli and she grinned back. “Remind me to get a pair of those pants, will you?” I whispered, signalling to the receptionist’s behind.

“Nothing like free advertising, I guess,” she joked. “Beats a dating site.”

Within a few minutes a tall, young, fresh-faced and very muscular man emerged from some hidden doorway, and greeted us with a firm handshake and a warm smile.

“Hi, I’m Malcolm, you can call me Mal. Welcome to Pump It.”

Mal took us on a guided tour of the facilities. He was very proud of the space, the equipment, the staff, and even more enthusiastic about the few people who were there exercising. I liked him instantly. At the end of the extensive tour, Mal showed us back into his office behind the hidden door.

“Okay, here’s the thing,” Kelli started as soon as we were seated. “We’d like to join, but money is tight. What can you do for us?”

Mal sat back in his chair and chuckled. “Straight to business, hey?” He pulled one of the green flyers out of a drawer and laid it on the desk facing us. “We’re offering two for one at the moment, which in my opinion is a great deal.”

“It’s a good start. What else?”

I was starting to shrink down in my chair. Kelli was going to try to screw every last cent out of the guy.

Mal laughed. “Okay, how about no joining fee … and you can pay monthly, provided you sign up for twelve months, unconditional.”

Kelli smiled then looked at me. We nodded to each other. “Deal!”

The next morning we woke up extra early. We had decided to try to work out in the mornings and get it over with, as something always seemed to come up after work. Quite often that something was Jacqui, Kelli’s pain-in-the-backside boss, making her work late. It also meant we could use the change room facilities, which were huge and provided everything we needed. And as a bonus, if we were finished and ready to leave by eight am, we could also enjoy the light complimentary breakfast provided. It was a win/win situation.

As we were sitting in the small café-styled area, enjoying some fruit salad and the endorphin rush of having completed our first exhausting circuit class, I saw a notice up on the bulletin board for boot camp, starting in two weeks.

“What do you think of trying boot camp?” I asked, half-jokingly as I pointed to the sign.

“Could be fun. Does it cost extra?”

I got up to read the fine print. It was included for full members, so probably not for us. Kelli got up, and spying Mal in the weights room, headed straight in there. Five minutes later, she came out looking very pleased with herself.

“We’re in,” she said, smiling.

I looked over at Mal. He was shaking his head and laughing with a guy he was spotting on the bench press. I don’t think he knew what to make of Kelli’s straightforward approach, but he always seemed happy enough to oblige her.

It was finally Friday, and Kelli got up with an extra spring in her step. Cooper was coming home this afternoon, and she was
so
excited.

We got up early, as usual, to go to the gym. I’d had a restless night on the thin sofa bed mattress and had finally dozed off at around four am, only to be woken by Kelli at five thirty.

I threw on the first thing I could find in the half light, not really caring how I looked, and pulled my hair back into a messy ponytail.

“Okay, let’s do this, Kell,” I told her, stifling a yawn as we walked out the door.

Jumping onto the treadmill for a quick warm up, I wasn’t sure if it would wake me up a bit, or if, in my half-asleep state, I would fall flat on my face and knock myself out. The run was energising me, so I turned it up a couple of notches and ran flat-out for about fifteen minutes.

Sweat was pouring off me by the time I stepped down from the treadmill and moved towards the weights area. I looked down at my clingy grey T-shirt. Oh great, I’d put it on inside-out. I debated going into the change rooms to fix it, but then looked around. There was hardly anyone there, so I decided not to bother.

Grabbing some free weights from the stand, I then sat on the edge of a weights bench to do some bicep curls and tricep dips. I’d lined up a couple of pairs of weights on the floor, and as I was picking up the first pair I noticed my socks.
Terrific, odd socks too.
One was white with a blue line around the top edge, the other was pale blue. I smiled to myself. I must remember to get my gym clothes ready the night before in future.

“Psst!” I looked up as Kelli came over and squatted down beside me. “Don’t look now, but that guy on the bench press is hot, and he has an awesome tribal tattoo all down his left arm.”

My head swivelled around, and Kelli slapped my arm. “I said
don’t
look now.”

Quickly, I changed my blatant perv to a casual look around the weights room, before allowing my gaze to pass by the bench press and the hot guy. Kelli was right; he was extremely hot, and was pressing what looked like the weight of a small car. His arms were enormous.

He sat up, wiped the sweat from his brow, and ran his hand through his messy dark brown hair before his eyes rose in our direction. I drew a breath. Even from this distance I could see he had the most vivid emerald-green eyes, and they were staring directly at me. I half expected him to blank us. We were, after all, staring at him and giggling like silly schoolgirls, but he smiled an easy, sexy grin in our direction so we smiled back.