Page 47 of The Sun and Her Star

“Okay, thanks, I should go.” I turn to walk back out.

“Wait, tell me what’s wrong, darling?” Her lips are pursed, her eyes are wide with concern.

“Well, my mother’s sick.” I breathe out a sigh and just plow forward. “She needs this treatment, but her insurance won’t pay. So, I used my tuition money for the first month, but I need more, and I want to go back to school so I can finish … I need …” My voice breaks and I stop to collect myself.

“Oh, Graham. I wish I could help,” Nanette says breathlessly, putting her hand on my shoulder and patting it sympathetically.

“It’s okay. I’m not sure the extra hours would have been enough anyway. I’ll find another job,” I say, trying to inject my voice with optimism I don’t feel.

“You know, Graham …” Her eyes dart around the room and then come back to mine, and she waggles her eyebrows. “With your face, that body …” She trails her eyes up and down me. “You could be making real money. Not the chump change you make just working out with clients.”

A few months ago, a client told me her best friend was an agent who she thought I should talk to. I did. But he wanted me to drop out of school to start modeling full time. The money sounded great, but I couldn’t drop out of school. I only had one year left. I had plans for Apollo … but now, I’ve had to drop out. I wonder if I called the agent, if he’d be willing to talk to me.

“I’ve helped a couple of young people I’ve met here get set up in a business that’s given them the kind of financial freedom they could only dream about. But I can tell you’re … a little shy?” She drifts off and looks at me thoughtfully.

“I’m not shy,” I protest, but she only laughs.

“Oh, Graham, don’t worry. It’s wonderfully charming how oblivious you are to your own appeal.” She pats my hand with her heavily jeweled fingers. It takes a huge effort not to pull my hand out from underneath her touch. If she’s got a solution for me, the last thing I want is to piss her off.

I want to correct her, to tell her I’m very aware of it. And of how it’s the only thing anyone ever mentions when they talk to or about me. And how much I fucking hate it.

But, I need this job. So, I just smile like I’m flattered by her words.

“Anyway, if you’re interested in hearing more, you just give me a call, darling.” She winks, smiles, and then turns on the ball of her foot and starts to walk away.

It feels like watching hope disappear, and my pride takes a back seat to my panic. I rush after her, and I put a hand on her shoulder, and she stops, and this time when she turns around, she’s wearing a nearly blinding smile. I drop my hand and cough awkwardly.

“Uh, can we talk now? I mean, if you’re free. We could wait until you come back in tomorrow.”

“Graham, for you, I’m always free.” She comes to stand beside me and wraps an arm around my waist. I look around to see if anyone’s watching. I already get so much shit from my colleagues about how I train all of the MILFs in the gym.

Nanette has two kids. Her son is the same age as Apollo, and her daughter is only ten. I’ve never met them, but she talks about them a lot. Her ex-husband is some big luxury brand tycoon, and all I know is that she doesn’t need to work and can afford the two hundred-thousand-dollar initiation fee and twenty thousand dollar a year fee that it took to be a member here. I hated the ribbing and was careful to make sure no one got the wrong idea about what I was doing.

I don’t plan on being a personal trainer forever, and I wanted to make sure I didn’t do anything to jeopardize my chances of teaching. I just needed a way to take care of my mother and go to school.

“Why don’t we go down to the cafe? I’m famished.” She starts to walk in the direction of the cafe without waiting to see if I’m following.

I fairly reek of desperation I couldn’t disguise, and I’m not trying to. I have everything to lose—my mother, the existence I’d scraped to carve out for myself here. The future I pictured having with Apollo as soon as she was old enough.

Even though the sun was shining, and the club is buzzing with endorphin releasing hot people, I feel a sense of impending doom as I follow Nanette into that cafeteria.

We slide into opposite sides of the booth in the corner of the atrium-like room. There’s a quiet hum in the air, and for a restaurant located in a busy gym, it’s very elegant. The air is even perfumed in here. I sit across from her and before I have a chance to speak, she asks, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-one, ma’—Nanette.”

“That’s such a great age,” she says, and without taking her eyes off me, lifts a finger into the air.

A waitress in a white button-down shirt and a royal blue bow tie fastened around her neck appears in a matter of seconds, and Nanette rattles off her order before the young woman can even finish her greeting. Her blonde head bends over her notepad as she writes down Nanette’s very complicated soup and salad order.

“Do you want anything?” Nanette asks me.

“No, I’m okay,” I say and am grateful that my stomach doesn’t growl its protest. A week ago, I wouldn’t have blinked at ordering lunch here.

“It’s my treat.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll just have a burger.”

She nods at the waitress who scribbles on her note pad. She gives me a quick, small smile before she disappears again.

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