Ava slanted a look through the glass walls and smiled.
Probably because the bubbly woman was otherwise occupied.
“Have you thought about my little proposition?” Mack asked as he straddled one of the workout benches lining the wall.
“You know, the propositions I get usually involve booty calls, naked workouts and offers to show off a guy’s most impressive muscle.”
Mack snorted.
“Sorry, sweets. You’re not my type.”
And that was the sad, sad truth for womankind. Ava had lost count of the number of complaints she’d heard over Mack’s preference for hard bodies of the male variety.
“Only one of the reasons I love you, Mack,” she said, at ease with him as she was with few men. “Another is your impeccable taste, of course.”
“You mean in wanting you to come on board as a partner? I’m serious about it, Ava. I need someone I can trust, and you’re my top pick.”
But she didn’t know if she ever wanted to be a man’s top pick at anything. Or if she wanted the responsibilities and stresses of being part owner of anything, even a business she loved. So she simply shrugged.
“I haven’t given it much thought yet,” she said.
“Well, I told you I’d give you until the end of the week before I asked anyone else—so take as much time as you need.” He got to his feet with a grace at odds with his size and offered a smile so reminiscent of his cousin’s that her heart squeezed for a second.
“I don’t think—”
“Don’t answer yet,” he interrupted. “Just think about it. If it’s the money, we can figure that out. If it’s the workload, we’ll hash that out. If it’s because you don’t want to make another commitment to a Prescott, well, that would make you a wimp. And we both know you’re not a wimp.”
Ava angled her chin, pretending she wasn’t insulted at the idea of returning to wimpiness after so many years of wallowing under the weight of her wimp crown. But she couldn’t ignore the tight knot in her gut at his reference to Elijah. She spent so much of her life acting as if Elijah didn’t exist that being reminded of him twice in as many seconds was a little much.
“I’m a good trainer, and excellent massage therapist. But I don’t I know that I want to be a businesswoman,” she said stiffly. Then, with a roll of her eyes at his sharp expression—God, the man could nag without saying a word—she lifted one hand in surrender. “But I’ll think about it, and we’ll talk next week.”
“Atta girl. You’ve done good, Ava.” Laying one beefy hand on her shoulder, Mack gave it a quick squeeze. “You should put some of that energy into your personal life now. You know, give one of those propositions a chance. Go on a date or something.”
She almost laughed. But knowing it’d be hysterical laughter tinged with horror, Ava managed to keep her response to a shake of her head.
The answer to that’d be a no.
Actually, that’d be a hell, no. Or even a hell, no, never, no way, not a chance.
But she didn’t say any of that aloud. Not because she wanted to encourage Mack, but because she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. The poor guy had strong family loyalties, and her reasons for the multiple forms of no would slam right up against that devotion.
So Ava cleared her expression and gave him her best upbeat smile.
“I’m much too busy for dating, my friend. And from the sound of this plan of yours, just considering it will keep me even busier.”
“Maybe I should rescind the offer.”
“No way,” Ava objected, punching him in the arm. Since she knew it would be like ramming her knuckles into solid steel, she pulled the punch so it was more a graze of skin on skin. Still, her forearm sang at the impact. “Not if it means I have to rescind my no-dating rule.”
“Maybe I should make that a part of the deal. You know, all gym owners are required to have an active social life.”
Her social life was as active as she wanted. It revolved around work, fitness, hanging out with a few friends and... Hmm. Ava stopped to consider, but she couldn’t think of anything else. Which was absolutely perfect.
“That kind of talk will be factored into my considerations,” she warned.
“Forget I said it,” Mack shot over his shoulder as he headed out the door.
Ava was still laughing as she started cleaning the room for the next class. But she wasn’t changing her mind. Dating led to relationships. Relationships meant commitment. Commitment guaranteed heartache. She’d done her time, had her share. She was finished.
It was only after accepting that that she’d created the perfect life. It wasn’t the life her parents had outlined for her, it wasn’t the one her large, opinionated extended family expected of her. It wasn’t even close to the one she’d envisioned for herself when she’d been a country-club princess/society bride with no higher goal than planning the perfect party, obsessing over whether the whites were white enough and making sure all her husband’s needs were met.
But her life now? It worked for her. Why mess with something that was going well?
On the other hand, she loved Mack’s gym. It had an excellent reputation, a savvy owner, an ever-growing clientele and the perfect location for what she wanted to build. With all the traveling he was doing now for fitness competitions and training, she could see his need to take on a partner.
And she’d be good at it. She understood their clientele, she could step into almost any role. Personal training, massage, teaching classes, scheduling, bookkeeping, even advertising. She’d helped with all of that over the last couple of years, so she definitely had the experience.
What she didn’t have was money. At least, not readily available. Lips pursed, Ava finished wiping down the last mat. She had plenty in trust. But she couldn’t access the funds until her thirtieth birthday unless her parents okayed it.
Something to think about, she decided as she moved around the room gathering abandoned towels and empty water bottles.
Of bigger importance than finding the funds was the idea of working for someone besides Mack. The large bodybuilder was the perfect boss. He let Ava choose her own hours, design her own classes, come and go as she pleased. But if he brought in a new partner, that could change.
Ava strode out of the classroom into the gym’s reception area. At the chest-high desk, perched on a stool and writing in her planner sat Chloe. Probably the only woman in the world who could pull off the cat-eyed makeup with flaxen-blond dreadlocks, her tie-dye tee proclaimed her belief that Love Is the Ultimate Trip.
Part-time receptionist, all-round party girl and, much to the surprise of both, one of Ava’s best friends.
“You whipped some butts, girlfriend. I’ve rarely seen such a sweaty, bedraggled bunch limping out of that classroom as those students today,” Chloe said, her expression somewhere between impressed and amused. “And look at you, fresh as a daisy.”
“Maybe not quite daisy fresh,” Ava denied with a grin, gratefully unbraiding her hair and running her fingers through the long tresses. “I definitely need to hit the showers before my next class.”
“Half those students were hobbling,” Chloe said, giving Ava a quick up-and-down inspection. Sure, Ava’s workout bra was soaked and the tank she wore over it spotted with sweat. But her face was pain-free, her gait easy and her smile bright.
“Bet they loved it, though,” Ava shot back with a smile, angling her head to look at the latest page of art in Chloe’s planner. The double-page spread was decorated with colorful butterflies and a flourish of sharp-edged