Page 7

CHAPTER 6

Ellis

“Okay, Maggie, time to cool down.”

Maggie lowered her legs and dropped her forehead against the padded bench of the leg curl machine beneath her. “Thank all that’s holy.”

I laughed. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Says the guy with calves and buns of steel.”

“Don’t forget the hamstrings,” I said, putting out a steadying hand as Maggie stood.

“How could I forget them when they feel like Jello,” she grumbled.

I handed her a bottle of water and we made our way toward the open area of the mat for stretching. Maggie took a few gulps, mopped her face with the towel I handed her, then lowered herself to the mat.

“Okay, let’s start with a straddle.”

“Oh, El, I thought you’d never ask me to straddle you,” she said with a playful wink.

I grinned, used to the harmless flirtation. “Wouldn’t do either of us a lot of good. I only want one man that way.”

She spread her legs into a V-formation. “You’re such a romantic.”

“Am I?” I mused, reaching for her hands. “Point your toes more. There you go.”

I tugged her slowly forward, and she breathed through the stretch.

“I didn’t used to think I was,” I continued, “but maybe you’re right. I guess my relationship with Clayton changed things for me.” I frowned. “I didn’t really appreciate how special that was until it was gone.”

Her voice came out strained. “It’s his loss.”

I relaxed my grip, allowing her to pull back. We shifted through two more positions before I guided her onto her back for a hip-and-glute stretch.

“It doesn’t feel like his loss. Especially now that I’m at law school with him. I feel invisible to him and extremely visible to everyone else. And not in a good way. I don’t fit in.”

Maggie and I weren’t just personal trainer and client; we were friends. At least, here in the gym. She told me all about her divorce, and I told her about my breakup with Clayton. We used to grab protein shakes after her workouts, but my class schedule put an end to that.

I flicked my gaze to the clock on the wall.

“Sorry, Mags, our time is up. I’ve got to get to class. Do a couple more stretches and you should be good.”

Maggie shifted into the butterfly pose. We’d been training long enough that she could do all this without my help. I was here to motivate her, to keep her accountable, and to tailor her workouts so that she met her fitness goals without injuring herself.

“Hey, El!” she called as I started across the gym floor.

I turned back, eyebrow raised. I had little time to get showered and changed for class.

“Only boring, average people fit in with everyone. You stand out, and that’s because you’re amazing!”

I laughed and blew her a kiss. If only the law students were as easy to win over as my workout clients. Sure, many of them hated me when I pushed them to challenge their bodies, but they also thanked me later.

Somehow, I didn’t think Vic would ever thank me for showing up in his territory.

I slipped into the locker room and headed for the showers. Kaden, a spin instructor, was in the corner stall, and there were a couple of guys changing by their lockers, but it was fairly quiet.

I stripped off my sweaty gym clothes, tossing them on a bench, and took a stall far from Kaden so we could both shower in peace.

I didn’t have much time, but as soon as hot water sluiced over my shoulders, my eyes slipped closed. I leaned my forehead against the tiled wall, exhaustion sweeping in.

Usually, I found my work at the gym invigorating. But I’d studied late again last night. I’d already taken the quiz Callahan sprung on us—just as Jordan had predicted—but my other classes were demanding, too. I’d discovered that even if all the professors didn’t quiz us as often as Callahan did, they’d still put us in the hot seat, rapid-firing questions in class and expecting us to prepare well enough to know the answer.

I was still riding a high from the day Vic stumbled on the definition of amicus curiae and I’d jumped in with the answer. It was a fancy Latin term that meant friend of the court. I remembered it because it struck me as funny to think of a brief filed by an interested party as a friend.

Then again, it wasn’t that odd, considering how competitive these students were. Even so-called friends.

The sound of a locker slamming jolted me out of a near-doze. Damn it. I didn’t have time for this.

I pumped soap from the dispenser and did the quickest wash of my life, then dried my skin with a fluffy bath towel I brought in from home. The gym towels were rough and scratchy, and my skin didn’t appreciate it.

I’d gotten smart after the first week of school and started bringing my school clothes to work. I hung them from the rod of the shower stall that had been broken for half a year. The lockers all reeked too strongly of gym smells, and I didn’t want to give Victor any more ammunition to wrinkle his delicate nose at me.

I slipped into my fitted gray slacks, buttoned up my pale blue button-down, and tugged on shiny dress shoes. I didn’t hate dressing up. It actually helped me switch mental gears. I went from Ellis Woods, personal trainer, to Ellis Woods, serious law student.

My one concession was my shirt sleeves. I couldn’t stand cuffs rubbing my wrists, so I rolled them up my forearms.

I checked my hair in the mirror, finger combing it, then packed up my gym bag and headed out.

Maggie, in the cafe portion of our lobby, cat-called when she saw me. “Good gravy, Ellis, you look like a model!”

“I’d let him represent me in any court of law,” our front desk clerk, Jeremiah said, with an eyebrow wiggle.

He was a terrible flirt, and I was running late.

“I don’t recommend hiring a law student in his first year,” I called on my way out the door, “but thanks!”

My clients and colleagues at the gym made me feel better, but they were people who thrived on endorphins and a positive mindset. As I reached the law school campus, slipping into Callahan’s class at the last minute—leaving me no choice but to sit next to Victor, who glared at me—I was reminded that this world didn’t operate that way.

“Glad you could join us,” Callahan said dryly.

I winced, gaze flicking toward Jordan, who sat at the desk up front, tapping away on a laptop. He didn’t appear to have noticed my reprimand, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Jordan had helped me prepare for this class. I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t taking it seriously.

Callahan slapped a sheet of paper on my desk. “Why don’t you tell the class what grade you got on the quiz?”

My heart lurched, and Victor smirked at me as I reached for the test with trembling fingers. I lifted it up, spotting the A scribbled in red.

“I got an…A?”

“Is that a question, Mr. Woods?”

“No.” A smile began to spread on my face as Victor’s smirk morphed into a scowl. “I got an A.”

“The only A,” Callahan said, casting a stern look over the room. “The rest of you need to step up.”

“That’s not fair,” Victor said. “He?—”

Callahan cut him off. “Not fair ?” He laughed. “Do you think judges are fair? Do you think jurors are fair ?”

“I just mean he had an advantage,” Victor said, face reddening.

Callahan nodded. “Yes, and every opposing counsel you come up against may have an advantage. You have to bring your A-game. Every time, Mr. Kensington.”

As Callahan turned away, Vic muttered under his breath, “At least in court I could object.”

“What was that?” Callahan asked.

“Nothing,” Victor said quickly. “I’ll study harder.”

“Right answer,” Callahan said, then dropped his quiz onto his desk. “Second-best is never a good feeling. In court, second-best is losing.”

Ouch.

I glanced toward Jordan, who flashed me a small smile and went back to his work on the computer. Callahan’s praise was hard won, which made my chest puff up with pride, but Jordan’s smile, his reassurance, was a constant that kept me going even when I wanted to give up.

As Callahan moved on to the lecture, I smiled down at my A.

Maybe Maggie had the right idea after all. If I couldn’t fit in, I should stand out.