Page 92 of A Lot Like Adiós
“What’s this I hear about a gym?” Dominic asked.
“Well, I own one.” What did the guy want to know? “I’m also a licensed physical therapist.”
“No shit?” Dominic raised his eyebrows like he was impressed. “What is it, one of those bodybuilder gyms? Boxing?”
“Not quite. We do bodywork and movement training, also fight training for actors.”
Dominic gestured at him. “With the way you look now, I figured you were into competing and stuff.”
“I’ve thought about it,” Gabe replied. “Did a few competitions when I was younger. But I just like the routine.”
“Probably been hard to keep up with here.” Dominic gave a nod toward the basement door. “Our home gym is pretty pathetic. Val uses it more than I do. I still swing by the firehouse when I want a real workout.”
“You’re retired now?”
“Yeah, a few years ago.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what the hell to do with myself anymore. I started working security part-time just to have something to do. Val has her arts and crafts stuff upstairs. You probably saw it.”
“I did, although I can’t say I knew what any of it was.”
Dominic barked out a laugh. “I don’t ask anymore. And now she wants to open something called an Etsy store for her jewelry. I built her the photo corner with lights so she can take good pictures. It makes her happy, and her jewelry is really good.”
It was probably the most Dominic had ever said to Gabe directly, except for the couple of times he’d threatened him. To be honest, Gabe had expected more threats, but no, they were able to talk one-on-one. Like adults.
Dominic clapped Gabe on the shoulder as he passed by on his way to the basement door. “Michie’s downstairs, using the printer. You should probably use the desk in the craft room if you want to get any work done. Val will be back soon and she’sgoing to be cooking and cleaning for tonight. She already gave me a warning that she’ll be assigning me some projects, so I’m going to relax while I can.” He held up his cup in salute. “See you later, kid.”
Gabe mumbled a goodbye, then glanced at the clock. Fuck, he had little more than ten minutes before the manager meeting started.
In his pocket, his phone chimed with a calendar alert.
Make that exactly ten minutes. Despite telling Fabian he wouldn’t be able to make it, Gabe would feel too guilty if he skipped it.
He grabbed smoothie ingredients from the fridge and freezer, mixed them up, and rinsed out the blender in record time. Then he bounded upstairs, threw on a T-shirt, and opened his laptop with seconds to spare. At the last second, he slapped a Yankees cap on his head, since he hadn’t combed his hair yet.
One meeting led to another, which led to a never-ending stream of emails. He was behind on his inbox after not checking it much over the last three days, and when he opened it that morning, he wanted to cry.
Fabian had missed the meeting and hadn’t replied to any of Gabe’s texts, which was unlike him. Gabe shot him an email, then followed up with Powell, the real estate agent, and even Rocky Lim. He also finished Michelle’s worksheet and typed up all the answers in an email. He sent it to her, although he had a funny feeling that a bunch of his answers were somehow... wrong.
She replied a few minutes later with a text.
Michelle:Come downstairs.
Gabe checked his watch. He’d been working for four hours straight, and he was famished. It was a good time to take a break. He closed the laptop, finally combed his hair and gelled it back, and went downstairs.
Michelle was in the living room, and to his surprise, she had a whole presentation set up on the coffee table. He had a flash of memory of Michelle’s school projects. She’d always loved a presentation board.
“What’s all this?” he asked.
“The storyboard for your campaign.”
“But I just sent you my answers five minutes ago.”
She waved that off. “I never really expected you to fill that out. I’ve been listening to you talk about yourself and the business for days. I also did an analysis of your website and social media, and between my own market research for Victory and what Fabian sent me for Agility, I had enough to put together a preliminary pitch. Are you ready to hear it?”
Gabe studied the board, which was divided into three color-coded sections: Consumer Insights, The Idea, and Activation Plan. Each area contained data and printed pictures.
“When did you do all this?”
“Here and there.” Michelle patted the seat cushion next to her. “I’m good at my job.”
