Page 12 of Meet Me in a Mile

Twelve

Luke

“W e’re done already?” Lydia asked, wiping the sweat from her brow as they circled the end of the block, the gym coming into view. “There’s no way that was twelve miles. I mean, I was feeling pretty good about the run, but I also kind of thought I’d be gassed by the end. If you told me I still had another mile to go, I would have just kept running.”

“See how easy it’s starting to feel? How much more confidence you have in your endurance?” Luke said, grinning. “And that translates into every aspect of your life. We do the hard things here, in training, so you can be prepared to do the hard things elsewhere.”

“God, please don’t start with another running metaphor,” Lydia said as they stopped outside Fitness Forum. “Just say good job and give me a high five.”

Luke feigned disappointment. “Too bad. I had a really good one saved up. But I guess you’ll have to wait until next time to enjoy it because I’ve gotta run—literally. I have that bank appointment.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Lydia said. “Go, go! You should have just canceled this morning so you could prepare!”

Luke shrugged. They’d already had to move her long run from Saturday to Thursday this week, so he wasn’t about to cancel. Instead, they’d squeezed in the run before she had to go to work, in preparation for the gym being shut down all weekend so the staff could update their workplace safety certifications. “I think I’m as prepared as I can be. But some luck couldn’t hurt.”

To his surprise, Lydia hugged him. It was short and sweet, and a little sweaty, but it didn’t fail to stir up all sorts of thoughts of steamy kisses outside pubs and in warehouses. Kisses that weren’t supposed to mean anything. Kisses that he’d banished from his mind. Poof , gone.

If only it were that easy. Luke had been pondering that warehouse kiss every night for the last two weeks. You didn’t just kiss someone for no reason after agreeing not to. So what was the reason? They’d both agreed to wipe the slate clean after the night they slept together, but the warehouse had felt different than that night. There was no pub, no alcohol, no flirty atmosphere to blame their actions on, and still they’d been drawn together. So, what did that mean? He sometimes wanted to ask her. But hell if he was going to be the one to ruin this partnership. She’d taken it back anyway—the kiss—almost immediately. That probably meant something too.

“You don’t need luck,” she said with a certainty he wanted to bottle for emergencies. “You’ve got this.”

“I’ve got this,” he repeated, flinging the door to the gym open. He shivered as the cool AC hit him. “Do you have your workout plan for tomorrow?”

Lydia waved him off. “I have it memorized by now. Hurry up. Before you’re late.”

Luke rushed down the hall to his office, grabbed his change of clothes, and took the quickest shower of his life. His slacks clung to his legs as he emerged from the locker room and grabbed the thick file folder from his desk. He’d already emailed Mrs. Amisfield all the documents, he just figured bringing hard copies was a good idea. Luke touched his pockets. Phone. Wallet. Business plan. He hurried back down the hall, and was surprised to find Lydia still chatting with Jules at the desk.

“You’re going to be late,” Jules chided.

“I’m going!”

“You’ll do great!” Lydia shouted after him.

He checked his watch. Maybe Lydia was right and he should have canceled the run. But he’d figured spending the morning with her was a good way to take his mind off the appointment and his nerves.

By the time he got off the subway, he had no choice but to run. He skipped up the station stairs two at a time, until his thighs were burning, and rushed down the street to the bank. Damn this August humidity. He wafted the file with his business plan across his face, trying to cool down. He’d needed some extra time for market research, but today, if everything looked good, Mrs. Amisfield would officially be submitting his application for a business loan. The fact that he was about to be that much closer to his goal of opening his own business felt a little surreal, and he took a second to let the thrill of anticipation settle over him.

Then he dabbed at his forehead with the back of his hand, checking his reflection against the glass door, and strode into the bank, summoning everything calm, cool, and collected in his arsenal. He crossed the lobby to check in with the front desk.

“Luke Townsend,” he said. “I have an appointment with Mrs. Amisfield.”

“Wait here,” the clerk instructed before wandering off to inform Mrs. Amisfield of his arrival.

Luke shifted from foot to foot, a familiar bout of nerves rattling around his gut. He probably should have eaten something after the run. What if his stomach growled obnoxiously in the middle of their meeting?

“Luke?”

He turned at the sound of his name.

Mrs. Amisfield stood outside her office door. She waved him over, and Luke hurried across the bank.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, slipping into the office and sitting down. “I got caught up at work and there were a million people on the platform—”

She sat across from him and held her hand up. “Not to worry. We’ve all been bested by the traffic on the subway.”

Luke relaxed a little. She didn’t seem put off by his disheveled appearance, but when she looked up at him, he recognized something in her eyes. It was that you-were-close face. He’d been given that look by coaches over the years. Heck, he’d given it to his own clients time and time again when they got within reach of their goals, when the finish line just slipped through their fingers. He saw it in the pinch of her thin lips, in the tilt of her head, in that way her brows sank. This was the consolation face. He’d tried and failed.

He knew it before she even opened her mouth.

“You know, for your first crack at a business plan, this was well put together.”

But? He wanted to shout the word. Or was it however ? Maybe even a little in spite of . How was she planning on breaking the news to him? He felt like a fool for running all the way down here. “It didn’t make the cut,” he said, trying not to sound as disappointed as he felt.

He must have failed at hiding the disappointment because Mrs. Amisfield sighed. “I’ve been looking at the numbers and based on what you have here, I can tell you that you’re not going to get approved for your funding.”

Luke winced at hearing the words even though he already knew it was coming. What did she mean he wasn’t going to get the funding? How could she already tell? He had the building space all worked out. He’d just shown it to Lydia. She’d loved it. He’d already envisioned how he would set things up. This didn’t make any sense. “I just... Sorry, what?”

“I know that’s not what you wanted to hear from me today,” Mrs. Amisfield began, “but I believe it’s better to get right to the point. I could have submitted your plan and let the rejection come back, and we could have this conversation then, but I don’t like wasting my clients’ time.”

“I appreciate that,” Luke said because he wasn’t sure what else to say. Did he thank her for all her wasted time spent answering his questions? Did he walk away with his head in his hands like he wanted?

“You have the beginnings of a strong application here, but there is some concern about your revenue stream. You say here that you want to provide youth classes and programs free of charge?”

Luke met her eyes. Was that what all this was about?

“It’s admirable, of course,” Mrs. Amisfield said. “But for a brand-new business, just getting off the ground, without a substantial track record, saying the words free of charge makes banks hesitate.”

“Right,” he said, deflating inside. “I was planning on finding donors to support the youth programming. I think I put that in there.”

“And again, a great idea in theory, but if the donors don’t pull through and you’re running around providing all these free youth classes, who’s paying your staff? Who’s paying for equipment repairs or rentals? Who’s keeping the lights on?”

The more questions she asked, the more Luke started to feel like an absolute idiot. He’d basically arrived at this appointment with a lot of great ideas and not a great plan to execute those ideas.

“The concern is that by focusing on the youth, you won’t have enough regular clientele to be making the money we need you to make in order to give you this loan.”

Luke nodded as she closed the file on her computer screen. He picked up his folder from the desk, tucking it under his arm.

“I’m not going to submit this right now because I’ve been doing this job long enough to know what the answer will be,” Mrs. Amisfield said. “The risk is just too great. But if you come up with a better business model and find a way to minimize that risk, I’ll be happy to take another look.”

“Thank you,” Luke said, struggling to get the words out when all he really wanted to do was toss his business plan into the Hudson. “I really appreciate your time.” He stood, shook her hand, and walked out of the bank without feeling anything. The defeat was too great to even wrap his head around it.

Nothing really sank in until he walked back into Fitness Forum, finding Dara and Jules standing at the front desk. Then the reality of the situation landed in his gut like a load of bricks.

“How’d it go?” Jules asked quietly as he approached.

He mustered something that might have looked like a smile and shrugged off her question. “I’ll get it next time.”

“Your girlfriend was in your office,” Dara said as he shuffled past them and down the hall.

Though he knew Dara was joking, his thoughts immediately went to Lydia. When he opened his office door, on his desk was a piece of paper folded into a card with a four-leaf clover sketched on the front. He opened it and read the note inside.

I know you crushed your meeting. But here’s some luck for you to keep in the bank for next time you need it. P.S. Your office is a disaster.

Lydia had signed her name with a tiny heart. Luke looked around at his office. He still hadn’t bothered to hang his certificates back on the wall or organize his things after the renovations a few months ago. He’d been too busy with his clients and preparing his business plan—preparing to leave Fitness Forum altogether. He supposed he would have nothing but time now.

Luke balled up Lydia’s homemade card and tossed it across the room, the force of his failure burning like acid in his chest.