Page 5 of Mr. Red

“I’m so excited we already had plans to go out tonight. We canreallycelebrate now!” I say.

“Yes, thank goodness. If there was no plan, the world would surely end,” Paige says with a sarcastic tone. She hates plans.

“Shut up!” I give her a playful shove. “There’s nothing wrong with a plan.”

“Right.” Paige blinks. “Anyway, I need to do this workout before my next appointment. See you later, Scar!”

I continue my leg workout while the girls depart to work on arms. A smile sneaks up on my face. The girls always know how to make the day better. News about the gym takeover, relaxing at yoga class and drinks later is something to look forward to. Today is finally looking promising as long as Mr. Red keeps his distance.

Chapter 4

Scarlett

I’ve trained my two regular clients, and now it’s time to teach the yoga class. Somehow, I’ve had enough clients throughout the years to keep me employed, even though the hours at the gym are odd. Working with people to help them feel good about their biggest asset is why I love my job. If I can help someone to feel confident in themselves again, no matter their weight or shape, it makes me feel just as accomplished. The client did the work, but I gave them the plan. It’s an exciting journey for both of us.

I head to the studio to set up for the class. We could use it for several classes, but the owners are only offering yoga right now. I walk in to open windows with views of trees and an abundance of natural light. The perfect place to take your mind off things, as long as you ignore the carpet and paint color on the walls.

I begin setting up, sprawling out my mat and selecting my music. Footsteps trail in from behind.

There’s some rustling, followed by more footsteps—people filing in the room. I look over the space, prepared to give my standard greeting. Then I freeze with my mouth ajar and eyes blinking in rapid movements. Mr. Red from this morning is standing right in front of me.

Three times in one day? This can’t be happening. I pause for longer than I intended.

Get a hold of yourself, Scarlett!

It’s yoga. Not the time or place to pummel this guy. There’ll be witnesses.

He stares at me with a lopsided grin. He recognizes me. I’m tempted to go over to him and smack that grin off his face, but I need to be in Zen mode. I have a class to teach.

I pull away from his stare and begin with a small introduction, purposely removing my name. “Welcome! Let’s all take a deep breath. Arriving in the moment, right now.” The breath is more for me, then the class. “Then let it go. Relax your shoulders. We’re going to start with feet shoulder width apart, bringing our hands together. Thumbs touching your heart.” I keep my head down, my hands shaking a bit.

I’m hyper aware of each movement I perform thanks to this new spectator. A small sheen of sweat coats my forehead as my heart rate kicks up.

Keep ignoring him.

I look over the class to see almost everyone performing the movements with ease in a calm manner. Everyone except Mr. Red. It’s a small group, about six of us altogether, and he sticks out like a unicorn. First, he’s the only person below the age of sixty-five in here. He’s not flexible, so he towers above the crowd on every movement. He huffs with an exuberant amount of effort to get into place for each position, his face turning a shade of red as he tries to stretch.

I’m trying not to pay him any attention, but my eyes keep landing on him—mostly his body. His tall figure, broad shoulders, and handsome face.

We move from plank to downward-facing dog. His biceps strain in his red shirt as he holds himself up. His hands on the mat are beyond the size of normal, withcalluses and a rough edge to them.

Then there’s the noises—the grunts he makes moving into a new position. The noises he probably makes in the bedroom with every thrust. I bite my lower lip, thinking about him over me.

Scarlett! Knock it off!

My eyes widen and I shake my head. Ican’tbe thinking about him—other than what his final demise will be. I have to focus on him acting like a jerkthis morning.If there was an award for Jerk of the Year, he’d win. I’m sure of it.

We move into child’s pose, with foreheads down on the mat and knees folded to the chest. My heart stops beating so fast. With everyone taking a moment, their eyes directed off of me, I can release my shoulders from my ears. I have a centered moment for the first time the whole class. I lift my head off my mat and sit with my legs crisscrossed.

When I focus, I can see auras. I look over the class, staring beyond their bodies to see several blue and purple shades. To me, it means they have come to a serene moment, possibly connected to their intuition. Everyone is that shade, except the dufus from this morning. He’s glowing a strong red with a spot of green around his heart area.

The red tells me he could express his emotions from a point of anger or passion. The green is interesting, though. I’ve found it signals most people are caring and considerate. I must be reading him wrong—he's far from considerate.

After a few moments, I move the students into the final pose, savasana. We’re all down with our backs on the mat, staring up at the ceiling.

“Just take in some long, deep breaths, inhaling for one, two, three, four. Now exhale four, three, two, one. If that’s too fast, do whatever feels right to you. This is your time. Relax your body. Settle from the movements your amazing body performed,” I guide.

My eyes close too. Sounds of the relaxing spa-likemusic in the background and heavy breathing are the only thing you can hear until a door creaks open, breaking the reflective moment. My eyes open to identify the sound. I catch the back of Mr. Red walking out the door.

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