5

Nerthus

“Oh, no. He didn’t!” I laugh as I fight myself up the stepper.

GiGi moves his hand down dismissively and grins. “Ah, babe. You know how much I love a walking red flag. All shapes and shades are alright for me.”

I have to hold myself to the railings as I nearly trip over with laughter.

My friend just told me how a guy got his number from him last night. Apparently, he had waited outside until he was about to close up the bar, just to hijack him. He was so agitated that he kept asking him while shouting out loud and now I can’t get the picture of my best friend being yelled at while he scribbles his phone number hastily down on a slip of paper out of my head.

“But, puff, he was breath-taking.”

“I’m dying. Please, stop it.” He grins as he keeps climbing the rolling steps and I let myself roll to the floor, to catch my breath. As I stand there, with my arms propped to my sides, my gaze meets the one of my fitness instructors. Derek lifts his arm as soon as our eyes meet to wave at me and I nod, turning back to GiGi still walking up.

“He is cute. What’s the status update?”

“None.” I scoff, avoiding Derek’s gaze and looking around bored.

“Didn’t he ask you out last week?”

“Yeah.” I nod, looking at Derek helping his client up. “He should concentrate on training his clients.”

“Ah, baby doll! You should have more fun. Let it go!”

I shake my head, chuckling. “I have enough fun with you two. And should nobody have told you yet: A boyfriend is always a bother. Also, he is just so into my nice ass until he will find out that I sell it to others too.”

GiGi purses his lips, shrugging. “If he’s the right one, he will accept whatever comes with you.”

I scoff, squinting my eyes at him. “The right one. Yeah!” I move my eyes back to Derek, who still glances up to me from his client doing exercises back on a blue mat and smiles at me.

He is the typical sunny boy. His long blond hair is styled back and held by a thin sports band. And his baggy clothes hide a true jewel of a body I wouldn’t mind taking for a ride.

“He isn’t my type anyway.”

“Huh?” Gigi stops his stepper and lets himself roll down to stand next to me.

“Too happy.” I smile at him, and he shakes his head.

“Don’t worry. You’ll find your prince of darkness soon enough.”

***

I’m already lying on my esthetician’s table as I get another message from my boss. Luciana is highly concerned that I take care of my body accordingly, to satisfy the client’s wishes in the best way possible.

What am I, a noob?

I text her swiftly that I’m taking care of everything and that I’ll follow the instructions I got to the letter.

Just what is it with this guy?

***

Coming home after my various beauty appointments, I put down the shiny bags with expensive lingerie and clothes down on my couch. Slipping into my bathroom, I shower extensively, keeping my styled hair dry.

I dress quickly into my red-laced lingerie and choose a black pencil shirt with a sexy seam slit and a white blouse that gives a slight hint on what will wait for him below, without appearing tacky.

While I apply my make-up, I get the feeling of nervousness creeping over me. As I let the glue of my fake eyelashes sit, I have to consciously breathe as I feel a sudden shortage of breath. Rolling my shoulders, as if wanting to take a running start, I start applying the lashes. I have to let my arm slump several times, feeling nauseated.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I can’t even recall when the last time was, I had been nervous doing a job. As I have been doing this for decades, there is not much that scares or worries me.

So, what is it?

I lean onto my sink in white marble and draw a deep breath. I try to calm myself down by focusing on the black speckle in the material. After a few breaths, I feel steadied enough and go on applying the other fake eyelash.  

Being ready to go, I put on my high heels and close the sling around my ankles. Inhaling another deep breath as I get on my feet, I feel like 16 again.

And that is not a good thing.

There is no way I will handle such a big caliber, feeling this nervous and self-conscious. Doing another set of breathing exercises, I slip into my dark grey coat and check my appearance one last time in the long mirror hanging in my entrance.

Here goes nothing.

I spot a cab that is already waiting for me outside the building as I step out of the elevator on the ground floor.

Concentrating on my steady breathing and careful not to slip out on the glossy tiled floor, I greet the concierge with a big smile.

“Good evening, Timothy.”

“Good evening, Ms. Rogers. I wish you a pleasant night.”

Thanking him with a bright smile, I step through the door that he is holding open for me and get into my cab.