Page 7 of Beauty and the Grease (Midlife Meet Cute #4)

Jenny

My bingo card for this year didn’t include befriending a yoga studio in a storm shelter with my many-moons-ago phantom ex-husband, but here we are.

Rumbles sound overhead, dimming the chatter.

“Sounds nasty out there,” my new friend Gina says. She’s younger than me, fitter than me, and salty, having reduced Chase’s business retreat to “a cluster of capitalist clowns.” I’m here for it. “Maybe you can join our retreat. It would be a delight to have you.”

“Aw, thanks, but I couldn’t impose. Besides, I’m sure your registration is full.

” I’m absolutely certain a retreat at this facility costs a pretty penny.

Not that I don’t have any available cash at my disposal, but treating myself to a frozen yogurt and a mani-pedi are more within my range of treat.

Who am I kidding? I just get the froyo and paint my nails at home.

More unpleasant sounds reach us in the depths of the storm shelter. I check my phone for messages, but the signal is butts. I glance to Gina’s device in her hand. “Do you have a signal?”

Gina pouts. “I grabbed my phone from the digital detox basket, but no. Instagram isn’t loading.”

“Mine’s okay.” Another woman offers her phone to Gina. “Do you want to check in with your kids?”

“Eh. My kids are with their grandparents and they know first aid.” She looks up from her frozen screen. “What? I deserve a break. Oh hey, Jenny. You can take Tasha’s spot. She had to cancel.”

My business requires never-ending attention. I can’t up and leave.

“A weekend off might be ni-ice,” Gina sing-songs.

I haven’t had a weekend off since I said yes to the business and moving to Derby.

I’ve been going 24/7 for…a year. Sure, we’re closed Sundays, but I’m usually working on payroll or double-checking inventory.

And I take the odd afternoon off for a dentist or doctor appointment.

I’m into specialist territory now with mammograms and podiatrists.

Okay, so medical appointments aren’t exactly spa-like. My friends outside of Derby visit me so I don’t have to be away from the business. My parents and a set of aunts, uncles, cousins and their kids spent Christmas in Derby with me. They liked it. They’re the best.

But it means I haven’t gotten away. From Gina’s reaction, it sounds like I’m supposed to want to get away.

My business means everything to me. If my business doesn’t succeed, what am I? I can’t afford to let it fail. I can’t.

Gina’s grin is persistent. Like she knows I need a vacation more than I do.

“I don’t even have the right clothes.” I’m wearing the cardigan that lives in my office with cargo pants and work boots. “I doubt I can do a lotus rising in these boots. By the way, I made up that pose. I’ve never done yoga. I used to be more of a cardio junkie.”

Gina gasps. “Jenny’s never done yoga! Ameriel, aren’t you about Jenny’s size? I’m thinking your leggings might fit her.”

That escalated quickly. “I can’t borrow a stranger’s yoga pants. I’ll leave after the storm. Thank you for the offer.”

What if there’s damage at the shop? I can’t even check my messages to find out. Okay, we need to get out of here quick before I panic.

I glance to Chase to find he’s looking my way. I raise my brows to ask, everything good? He tilts his head and shrugs. Then points to the women around me and kind of flips his hand around in the air. I guess it means, are they better company than these corporate drones? Yes, I nod. Yes, they are.

I’m determining how to mime that they’ve asked me to join their retreat when Chase walks over. “How are you holding up? It sounds rough up there.” He points toward the ceiling.

“I’m sure it’s fine.” It needs to be fine since I’m not there to make sure it’s fine.

“Ben’s phone has service and the weather radar looks intense. I haven’t seen that much red and orange since I left your tow truck.”

I cross my arms. “The Beast is a dependable truck. Are you some kind of clown hater?”

“No. And I’m not afraid of clowns either.”

“Ooh, you’re such a stud.” I clap my hand over my mouth. “I was joking.” I move my hand aside enough for him to hear. “Like, ooh you’re a tough guy.”

Worse, he’s laughing at me. Worse: Part Deux: his smile makes me feel things.

I’m not here for feeling things. In fact, why am I here? Oh, yeah. Storm safety. Emergency siren.

Gina and her yoga friends inch nearer. They’re looking at Chase like he’s an advanced pose to master.

A retreat center employee claps to get our attention. “The tornado warning has ended for our area. Our staff will assess the damage, if you can please hang on a few more minutes.”

Ten minutes pass where Chase remains the center of attention for the yoga ladies. It’s both amusing and stirs unwanted emotions inside me. Where are those internal soldiers when my subconscious declares, he was mine first?!

It doesn’t matter if he was ever mine. Our lives are only intersecting today, the strangest of days, and never again. Except for when he picks up his car. And when he brings his kids by the shop.

Dangit. What have I done?

Finally, we’re cleared to go upstairs. The building is deemed safe with no damage, but due to debris on the grounds we’ve been asked to remain inside the building. I need to see for myself.

“It’s a precaution,” I say to Chase on the way up.

But wow, is it obvious the storm ripped its way through the grounds.

A huge limb from a giant old tree stretches across the driveway.

No cars appear to be damaged from what I can see from the door, and my truck is pristine beneath the covered entrance.

Beyond the parking lot, a whole tree is overturned with its roots splayed out above the dirt.

Smaller branches, leaves, and a few stray patio chairs litter the driveway and grass.

I finally have a measly bar of cell service. New text messages populate from the past hour. I step aside to read them.

Kara: You’re not still driving are you? Weather radar is BAD where you’re going!

Kara: We closed the garage and locked up. Went to the cellar—so creepy!

Kara: Do you think James is too old for me? He’s twenty-five and I’m twenty-two. That’s three whole years!

James is a mechanic at the shop. He’s a looker. Deep brown eyes and a bad boy attitude, but baby-faced enough to make me feel like a matriarch in his presence. Shocking it took this long for Kara to ask about him.

Kara: Storm over. REPORT BACK!

I fire off a quick text: I’m safe at the retreat center.

Kara: Can I clock out early? No damage here but nobody is downtown.

I text Annabelle and ask how things are. She confirms no damage, and has already closed the salon for the day.

“Is the shop okay?” Chase asks.

“Sounds like it. I should get back and check, though.”

“There’s a lot of downed trees out there. You’ll need to wait until they clear the area.”

But what if—

My eyes fall shut. What if what if what if… I can’t let go of the what ifs. I’m responsible for my shop. If I’m not there, what will happen?

Another text comes in.

Annabelle: I know you’re worried. No damage, I checked. Probably best to close early. Send the staff home. Just my two cents!

She’s right. I know she’s right. I send a few more texts and make the decision. Closing early with tow truck services available using our on-call rotation.

A broad, older man with ruddy, tanned skin approaches and I flinch, tucking my phone away like a student caught scrolling in class.

(If cell phones had existed when I was in high school, mine definitely would have been confiscated.) The man smells like cigars and old money.

His eyes are on Chase, not me. He was downstairs with Linda the CFO looking generally curmudgeonly and at times, downright hostile.

Like if he’d been cleared to carry a short club as a weapon, he would.

“Is this your guest for the weekend?” the man grumbles at Chase.

Chase clears his throat. “Well, sir—”

“Yes,” I answer for him. “I’m here…for the weekend.” I shoot Chase a look to go with it.

The man makes a grunting sound, followed by a curt nod.

“He’s fun,” I say to Chase as the man wanders off to terrorize another village.

Chase looks a bit green in the face. “That’s Cliff. He makes me want to jump off one.”

No doubt. “Not to be ageist, but how old is he? Oh wait, it’s ageist to ask. I learned that on a podcast. Ironically, the younger generation doesn’t seem to care about ageism and makes fun of the aged,” I point between myself and Chase, “all the time. At least Kara at the office does.”

Chase sighs. “You probably shouldn’t have told him you’re my guest. There’s a company dinner tomorrow night and he’ll expect you there.”

Shoot. “Sorry. I thought playing along would help. I know what these things are like for you. It’s all about appearances.” And I’m dressed for neither of these retreats. I don’t belong. “It’s just…” I trail off, watching the guests peer through the windows examining the storm damage.

“Just what?”

“Well, the spa sounds kinda nice. I never do this—get away, I mean.” I don’t feel like I’m allowed. Not when I have to prove I can run a successful business.

His face softens. “You deserve a break. You work hard at what you do.”

I scoff. “You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

Chase is so serious sometimes. I forget that serious face he gets. Now on an older version of him, dang, is he convincing.

“We closed up shop and shifts are covered for the weekend.” Truth is, time away scares me.

But I don’t have to say any of this to Chase.

There’s a perfectly good explanation for staying.

“I saw how that guy Cliff acted around you and your colleagues downstairs. And how you all reacted. You’re afraid of him.

You’re already stressed about being here.

If I don’t take off right away, I don’t know, maybe you could use a wingman. Wingwoman. Wingperson.”

There. Messy and all. “Also, Gina said their retreat had a cancellation so there’s an open room.” I can’t believe I’m suggesting this. “If they’ll let me pay for the night, I could stay.”

Chase studies me, sending a blush across my cheeks.

“Cliff thinks my divorce is a distraction from work. He overheard me one day arguing with Lisa—I was in the stairwell for privacy and didn’t hear a door open, but there he was, another flight up, listening.

Lisa and I were having it out about her last-minute schedule changes, and in the end, I offered to take the kids to accommodate her.

He pulled me aside later and told me I was weak. ”

Instant disgust. “Okay, first, that’s gross and toxic. Your kids are a priority. And second, what an invasion of privacy.”

“Next thing I know, I’m taken off my biggest account. Cliff was punishing me.”

My disgust deepens. “He wouldn’t have known about your family stuff if he hadn’t been lurking like a creep.”

“Information is how he keeps us under his thumb. He gets dirt on us and uses it against us.”

Gross, again. “What’s the end game? So, he punishes you. What does that gain anybody?”

“Loyalty. Subservience. If you don’t play the game, eventually you don’t have a job.

” Chase tugs at his shirt collar. He lowers his voice again.

“On the way to his office two days ago, I saw him with his boss, so I waited outside the door. I overheard them talking about staff cuts. I heard my name. This retreat, it’s actually a test. They’re testing loyalty.

Who shows up, who plays their games. That’s why I had to be here.

Lisa tried to change plans with the kids again this weekend, and that’s what I was on the phone with her about when I ended up in the ditch. If I miss this retreat, I’m out.”

All of this sounds horrible. The job, Lisa (I was never a fan, sorry to say), and this whole loyalty retreat. “Maybe there’s another spot open for yoga.” My jokey offer falls flat and I know it. “I’m sorry, Chase. Now I made it worse saying I’m your guest.”

Chase sighs again. “Actually, being my guest is a pro for Cliff. He thinks unmarried men are untethered and a risk. He already ‘joked’ during a meeting about me not being able to find a girlfriend. He told another executive I’ll have to move into my parents’ basement since I gave all my money away in the divorce. ”

“Yikes, this Cliff guy needs therapy. Or Jesus. Either one. Better yet, both.” I’m so glad I’m my own boss. “Did you, though? Give all your money away?” I internally cringe. “Don’t answer. Not my business.”

“I pay Lisa alimony, which Cliff sees as a failure of my divorce proceedings. Of course, I pay the kids’ child support and their private school tuition. If I lose this job, I can’t support them.”

That was going to be my next question, why not quit this terrible, awful job. But he has a reason.

Even though Chase caved to his parents and ended up with Lisa shortly after, I feel bad for his situation.

Our lives took such different paths. I’m almost grateful for those spotty years of feeling depressed and giving up on dating.

Believe me, I tried, but the apps filtered in the worst of the dating cesspool.

I’d rather experience some morose longing every so often than a bitter divorce, custody issues, and a soul-sucking job I can’t leave.

The old Chase would be sick knowing where he’d landed. He’d been so full of life, so filled with adventure and promise. Our world together may have been small, but it was ours.

Maybe if I stick around, do a little yoga, surf a little turf at dinner tomorrow, Chase can show The Man he’s loyal and ready for what’s next at this terrible job. I don’t owe him this, but my heart…my heart always leads the way.

“Don’t feel obligated.” He scans the lobby, likely for threats. “You don’t need to stay.”

Against my better judgment, I plow ahead. “I’m all in.”