In His Good Hands. Joan Kilby

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СКАЧАТЬ to get by. She scanned ahead, past clusters of teenagers and middle-aged couples, for the athletic store her assistant, Poppy, had recommended.

      “I can’t believe you actually got Dad to agree to run,” Lexie said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in shorts, let alone moving faster than a walk.”

      “He only signed up because the great Brett O’Connor talked him into it.” Renita rolled her eyes.

      “Brett O’Connor?” Lexie repeated. “Wasn’t he the footy player you were madly in love with in high school?”

      “Mild infatuation,” Renita corrected, hoping her sister wouldn’t recall how she’d doodled Brett’s name in every notebook. Ah, here was the shop. She stopped in front of the display window. “I love the color of that sports bra.”

      “Cobalt-blue. Perfect with your dark hair,” Lexie declared. “Try it on.”

      “And expose my midriff?” She made a face. “No thanks.”

      “All you’ve bought so far are three oversize T-shirts and a pair of baggy shorts,” Lexie complained. “Do it.”

      “I’m so fat. It’ll look horrible on me.”

      “You’re pleasingly plump.”

      “Who am I pleasing? Not me.” She eyed her reflection in the window critically. She didn’t hate her body; she just didn’t love it. “I need to lose twenty pounds.”

      “You’re going to. As soon as you start exercising. First you need the proper gear.”

      “I guess there’s no harm in trying it on. It doesn’t mean I have to buy it.” Renita went into the shop. Flicking through the clothes rack, she found her size in the sports bra. “Hold these,” she said, and handed Lexie her shopping bags before finding an empty fitting room.

      “What did you see in him, anyway?” her sister asked, taking a seat outside the cubicle, bags rustling. “Jocks aren’t your type.”

      “Tell me about it.” Renita’s voice was muffled as she pulled her scoop-necked ivory top over her head.

      “Was it because he was unattainable?”

      “Who wants a guy who’s unattainable?” Renita was much more pragmatic than that. And yet the reason she’d liked him didn’t have anything to do with practicality. “He made me laugh.” She sighed. “And he was hot.”

      “He was gorgeous,” Lexie agreed. “Still is, I’ll bet.”

      Oh, he is. “It’s funny, though,” Renita said. “Beneath all that cockiness, I don’t believe he’s as sure of himself as he pretends.”

      She stared at herself in the mirror, eyeing the bulge of flesh below her bra strap, the roll above the waistband of her slacks, then turned away.

      “Was it fun catching up on old high school stuff with Brett?” Lexie asked.

      “Not much to catch up on,” Renita replied, taking the sports bra off the hanger. “After I stopped tutoring him I hardly ever saw him again.”

      “Didn’t you ask him to a dance and he turned you down? I seem to remember you sobbing to me over the phone about it. When I was living in Melbourne, going to art school.”

      “I did ask him out. He said no. No great loss. As for me sobbing over Brett O’Connor? No way.” That last bit was a lie but Renita didn’t want to revisit the past. She’d moved on since then, had her share of boyfriends…her share of disappointments in love. Brett had no power to hurt her anymore.

      She tugged on the sports bra, sucking in her gut as she turned sideways to check the fit in the mirror. The cobalt-blue did look great, but oh, that midriff. And her breasts were too small. If she had a bigger bust maybe her stomach wouldn’t look so huge.

      She tried to imagine a slimmer version of herself. Was it possible? Could she work that hard, lose that much weight? For years she’d been in denial, telling herself she wasn’t that heavy, concealing her girth with flattering garments. What would it feel like to wear a revealing top and look trim and toned?

      Suddenly, she wanted to find out.

      “Are you done?” Lexie called. “I’m dying for a coffee.”

      “Just a minute.” Renita dragged the bra over her head and changed back into her clothes. She opened the door to the cubicle. “As soon as I pay for this.”

      “Awesome!” Lexie said. “I’m so proud of you for having the guts to wear something revealing.”

      “Oh, I’m not going to wear it,” Renita said. “It’s going to hang on the back of my bedroom door. Every time I look at it, it’ll be incentive for me to keep exercising.”

      “You go, girl.”

      “Then when I’m buff, Brett will want me just as badly as I once wanted him. I’m going to look so hot he’ll slip on his own drool.”

      “No great loss, you say?” Lexie commented drily.

      Renita ignored that and moved to the checkout. “He won’t be able to have me. I’ll be unattainable.”

      “Renita, don’t be a tease,” her sister said, following behind. “Okay, he hurt your feelings in high school, but you can’t hold that against him now. He seems like a nice guy. Even the gossip magazines could never find any sleaze on him.”

      “Brett’s a big boy.” Renita tossed her ponytail. “He can take care of himself.”

      “It’s not just him I’m worried about,” Lexie said. “You’re not as tough as you pretend.”

      “I am tough.” Renita’s fists tightened around the plastic hanger. If she was going to be around Brett she would have to develop a hide like a rhino.

      “HEY, GRANT.” Brett shifted the phone to his other ear while he gave change to a gym member for the coffee machine. “The financing is all approved, the sale is going ahead. I just wanted to confirm that my salary as manager continues up until the date of the transfer of property. Then I’ll be on my own.” He chuckled as Grant offered commiserations. “I’m looking forward to taking over. Can’t wait, in fact. If you happen to be in town for the grand opening, be sure to come by. I’ll let you know when it is.”

      Brett hung up and made calls to a few painting companies and flooring installers. He didn’t have a loan for refurbishment—yet—but there was no harm in getting a few quotes so he’d be ready to roll when he did get the money.

      He glanced at his watch. Nearly 6:00 p.m. He needed to get Tegan from his parents’ house, where she was helping babysit his brother Ryan’s little girl.

      He left the reception desk to poke his head into the weight room, where Mark was wiping down the seats and handles of the machines. “I’m taking off now,” he told him. “I’ll be back in an hour or so. I’ll close tonight.”

      “Sure thing, Brett.” Mark lifted the bottle of spray cleaner. “Catch you later.”

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