Page 27 of Ellie Hayes and the Himbos
“This is a huge opportunity, if for no other reason than to get something very expensive for free.” I hold up a finger to pause the conversation, then point at the bowl I’d been adding their chopped herbs to. “The rest of your stuff will be for garnish. It looks like I have everything we need integrated, so it’s time to roll.” I scoop out a golf ball−sized portion of meat and herbs and roll it between my palms until it takes on a spherical shape. “Don’t roll too long or the fat will warm and make everything stick to your hands. Got it?”
Each of my roommates takes an appropriate amount of meat and gets to rolling. I inspect their work, giving feedback where necessary, and the conversation resumes.
“I don’t know how much of it is because they want me,” Diego says, and I’m amazed that he’s maintained the thread after the minutes-long pause. “Or if it’s because I coach for Ian. When they found out that I work for him, they hoped he’d do videoswithme, like, because he was a pro? And that’s kind of a big deal to have someone like him endorse them.”
“He’s that well-known just from weight lifting?”
“In the weight-lifting community, he’shuge. He still gets commissioned to train some top competitors, and he consults like crazy. But back in the day? He’d have probably qualified for the Olympics if he hadn’t gotten hurt.”
“Really?” I ask, legitimately curious. So far, I’ve refrained from digging into Ian’s background beyond what’s on the Firehouse Fitness website, which is pretty vague. Ian Hammond, owner/operator, some letters I assume indicate coaching certifications, and that’s it.
“You see the black tubs on the shelves in the laundry room at Firehouse?” Alistair asks, and I nod. “That’s all his trophies and medals and stuff.”
“That’s a lot of bins.”
“He wasreallygood,” Diego says.
“Isreally good,” Alistair amends. “He can’t go as heavy now, but his form is dialedin.”
“And that’s why they wanted Ian to be involved?”
Diego nods. “But he didn’t want to. They’d still have me without him, but I know they were disappointed. They liked his credibility.”
“And his connections,” says Alistair.
“Why wouldn’t he do it?” It seems a little crummy.
“He’s weird about stuff like that. Sorry, Grant,” Diego adds, hastily.
“Nah, it’s good. He is a weirdo. Like, he’s been real private since he got injured, and after everything with Denny?” Grant sighs, letting his cheeks puff out exaggeratedly. “Scandal!”
“Denny?” I ask, though my brain prioritizesscandal.
“Ian’s mentor!” Grant takes up another wad of meat to roll. “He coached Ian all through college and into his professional career. They weretight. And after Ian got injured, Denny hired him to coach at his gym. But when Denny sold it…” He scrunches his nose. “I guess that was my senior year? He announced he was gonna sell, and everyone thought Ian would go for it, ’cause he had his big settlement from getting hurt.”
“It was at a competition,” Diego adds. “There’s video online. So hard to watch. His knee, it went—” He holds up his meat-speckled hands, palms facing one another, then jerks them violently toward the left. He shudders. “The knee is not meant to go that direction.”
“Fuckingbrutal,” Alistair agrees.
I have my own Greek chorus of beefcakes over here. “So, did Denny not sell to Ian?”
“Nah. Ian went and started Firehouse himself. A bunch of clients followed him over, which created more drama, ’cause the guy Dennydidsell to accused Ian of poaching, which is BS. They were his personal training clients. That was separate from gym membership.”
“And that guy couldn’t program forshit,” says Alistair, uncharacteristically impassioned. “In less than a year, half of his membersended up at Firehouse.”
All three guys nod, chests puffed out, like a meaty, physical barrier against Ian-related slander. It’s more endearing than menacing, but I’m not going to storm the castle tonight. They’ve already revealed plenty.
“To recap,” I say, and elect to skip the passing of the Hammond matriarch. “You moved in with your brother in middle school, instead of going overseas with your dad. Ian was competing then, got hurt, then worked for his mentor, who, later, wouldn’t sell him his business. Ian started Firehouse with the clients he retained, and other members from that old gym followed later. Scandal ensued, and…” I look from contributor to contributor in case I missed something.
“And we were all roommates when we were freshmen,” Diego adds.
“Yes! Also…” I look at the dozen perfectly formed meatballs he’s amassed on his cutting board. “Great work. Now, more recently, you, sir, who has a social following the size ofMontana, have been approached by a sponsor, who would also like Ian on board—”
“Not regularly. Just, like, a guest. Ian wasn’t interested, and I can’t cook, anyway—ah!Yet!” Diego uses both hands to indicate the spread of ingredients on the table, extending far enough that Alistair leans back to avoid his pork-covered reach. “I can’t cookyet, butyouare teaching us! Oh, Ellie, would you help me? Like, in the videos for Built Box?”
The introduction of yet another subject takes a moment for me to process, but I nod. “I would be okay with that, I guess?” I say, thinking aloud. “But you’d have to check with them. Theyprobably wouldn’t want some rando in the kitchen with you.”
“I’m sure they would be fine with it! You’re on a fitness journey, too,” he says. “And you’re very pretty. And you know how to cook! Oh, Ellie, this could be so fun! And maybe, after I get better in the kitchen, you won’t have to babysit me. And we would get free food! And free is good!”
