In His Good Hands. Joan Kilby

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СКАЧАТЬ and rowing machines, elliptical trainers, reclining bicycles and treadmills stood empty. Brett flicked one of the Out of Order signs. “I plan on replacing all these machines as soon as I can get the financing.”

      “That sounds good, doesn’t it, Renita?” Steve said.

      “Sounds expensive.”

      Next to cardio were glass-fronted squash courts, also not in use. Across the way was the multipurpose room. “That’s Janet, one of our fitness instructors, giving a personal training session.”

      Brett moved into the weight-training room. Two men were working with free weights while a woman sweated it out on a machine. “All these will be replaced, too. Tea and coffee over there,” he went on, indicating three small tables with seating for about twelve. “I plan to put in a cappuccino machine.”

      “It does appeal,” Renita murmured.

      “Plus fresh carrot juice for a healthy alternative,” Brett added. He started up the central flight of stairs, toward the source of loud music and thumping feet. “Here on the second floor we have the aerobics room. We’ll add to the range of classes as demand grows, so there’ll be something to suit everyone.”

      Renita followed, leaving Steve breathing hard, to bring up the rear. The door to the aerobics room was shut, so she looked over a half wall into the far squash court, which had been turned into a spin class room.

      “I’ll be replacing all those bikes, too. And putting a new office in over here,” he added, drawing her attention to an unused space beneath a window at the front of the building.

      He had confidence to burn, she’d give him that.

      Steve made it to the top of the stairs and slumped onto a padded exercise bench.

      “You okay, Dad?” Renita asked. He nodded, blotting his forehead with the back of his hand. She turned to Brett. “He would have to take it easy to start.”

      “We tailor training to the individual. There’s also a low impact seniors class.” Brett glanced back at her. “There’s plenty for the younger crowd, too. Sure you don’t want to join?”

      “She’ll join.” Steve leaned forward, elbows on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

      “No, Dad, I…” Renita stopped, not wanting to argue with her father in public.

      “I’ll be downstairs if you two want a moment.” Brett ran down the steps, leaving them alone.

      She sat beside her father on the bench.

      “Renita, honey, you were right. I’ve been fooling myself that walking is enough. Climbing up those stairs just now…” Steve wiped more beads of perspiration from his forehead. “I need more exercise. But I don’t want to do it alone.”

      “The last time I worked out was in high school, and that was under duress,” she argued. “A gym is my worst nightmare. Maybe I could do the Fun Run with you. We could walk if we had to.”

      “Ten miles is a long way for us couch potatoes, even walking.” He peered at her from behind his half-fogged glasses.

      Renita dropped her gaze. Her mum was busy with her yoga classes and meditation. Jack—her brother—had his hands full running the local Men’s Shed volunteer group and manufacturing the GPS he’d invented for small aircraft. Her sister—well, Lexie was an artist, so absorbed in her portrait painting that she could barely manage her own life. It would have to be up to Renita to help their father.

      And what about her own health? If she didn’t start moving, she’d just get fatter and fatter, to the point where she’d have real problems like her dad. Was that the future this brainiac was creating for herself?

      “Okay, we’ll do it together.” She gave him a hug, and his arms tightened around her, his jaw raspy against her cheek. “Let’s go tell Mr. Superstar.”

      Downstairs, they found Brett putting away free weights in the exercise room.

      “We’d both like to join,” Renita said. “And have the two-for-one deal with a personal trainer.”

      “Excellent.” Brett hefted a pair of twenty-five-pound dumbbells as if they were feathers, and placed them in the rack. “I’ll take you both on myself, if you’re game.”

      Lifting her chin, Renita said, “Bring it on.”

      BRETT LOADED FATHER AND daughter up with timetables, newsletters and receipts. He made arrangements for Renita to bring Steve to his first training session the next morning.

      “I’ll see you for yours Friday afternoon,” he told her, holding the door open for them as they went out.

      “Way to go, boss.” Janet congratulated him when she returned to the reception desk after her session was over. “Two new members.”

      “It was touch and go there for a while.” Brett pulled up a window on the computer screen and started to enter their details.

      “I saw you work your magic. Never a moment of doubt.” Janet slanted him a quizzical glance. “Who’s the woman?”

      “Renita Thatcher. She’s the loans manager at the bank. I knew her in high school.”

      “I thought I caught an undercurrent,” Janet said. “Were you two an item?”

      “God, no,” Brett said, saving the page. “She tutored me in math.”

      Half a dozen women from the aerobics class drifted down the stairs, chatting and laughing. On the way out, the single ones all sent flirtatious glances at Brett. He was friendly, but ignored the unspoken invitations. The small number of people in the class was a worry. There should have been twenty, at least.

      “You could have your pick of that bunch,” Janet observed when the door shut behind the last one.

      “I don’t date clients.” He began to shut down the computer.

      “Probably wise.” Janet pulled out the equipment brochure again. “These machines are really expensive,” she said, flipping through the pages. “You could get better deals buying used ones through the internet.”

      Now was the time to mention that his loan wouldn’t even cover cheap used equipment. But Brett found he just…couldn’t.

      “I wouldn’t waste my time. These babies are top of the line,” he said, reaching for the brochure. “It’s time I started making a list and checking it twice.”

      He wanted the best equipment money could buy. He’d find that money, somehow. He’d never gotten anywhere in life by being cautious.

      CHAPTER THREE

      “FUN RUN. Isn’t that a contradiction in terms?” Renita said to Lexie as they wandered through the mall, shopping for exercise clothing. “I mean, what’s fun about sweating?”

      “Ask Jack—he’s the athletic one in the family. It’s to do with endorphins.” Lexie pushed back her long, unruly blond hair with paint-stained fingers. Her naturally СКАЧАТЬ