I walked into Nikkei right at eight and was back on the gym floors five minutes later. No one seemed to have noticed that I’d been gone more than an hour, so I relaxed.
I spent the rest of my shift chatting with members and my coworkers, while keeping my distance from the old trainers. So far, every one of the new trainers I had interacted with was as nice as they were good-looking and bright. None of them behaved in the stuck-up way very attractive people sometimes do. The number of sessions done by each trainer I had read posted in the back of the trainers’ lounge suggested they must all also be hardworking. If those numbers stayed consistent, Nikkei would be doing better than ever.
Maybe The Adler Group was on to something.
As bad as I felt for Clayton, I couldn’t ignore the sense of sour grapes I had gotten from him. Was it possible his numbers had gone down and that’s why he had been fired? These new trainers were all doing as well as he used to do. Clayton would be much too proud to admit that he had lost his touch even a little bit.
I was pondering our meeting as I went into the restroom in the women’s locker room near the end of my shift. As I was done in the toilet stall, my phone rang. George was calling. I made sure I was alone in the bathroom before I answered.
“Hey,” I said into the phone. “That was quick.”
“Yeah, it was very easy to dig up information about Millennium and Nikkei in the emails. The company was tanking badly, so I’m not surprised they sold it. If you ask me, they didn’t really have a choice. Millennium Partners was in debt due to Nikkei, and part of the deal was that The Adler Group would absorb their debt.”
I grasped my phone more firmly. “Are you sure?”
“Yup. I can send you the documentation if you want to take a look for yourself.”
“No, I believe you. Thank you so much.”
A woman entered the restroom then.
“Okay, I will see you on Monday at five p.m. then,” I said to George, pretending like I was speaking to a new client. “Looking forward to meeting you!”
“Talk to you later, Longoria. Be careful out there.”
“Absolutely. Goodbye.”
I smiled at the woman and disconnected at the same time as I was leaving the bathroom.
Walking toward the stairs that would take me to the workout floors, I considered the information I had just learned: “The company was tanking badly, so I’m not surprised they sold it. If you ask me, they didn’t really have a choice.”
Now I was even more convinced Clayton had not told me the entire truth, and that maybe there was nothing wrong with The Adler Group. They were just heavily invested in the bottom line, and that had unfortunately not included Clayton.
I could see why Clayton was upset, but I could also see why The Adler Group had made some serious changes to the staff. Some of the old trainers had been pretty lazy.
I reached the end of the wide walkway I was on. Right as I was about to turn the corner and begin climbing the stairs, I froze—ten feet ahead of me, seated in the now quiet club cafeteria, was the sandy blond mystery man. Like the first time I had spotted him, he was sitting alone at a table and looking right at me, but he wasn’t scowling tonight. Instead, his features were neutral, neither sullen nor pleased as he took me in.
I couldn’t move and was simply staring at him. What should I do? Go up and talk to him? I couldn’t let him escape a third time. This was an opportunity too good to miss and I needed to do something.
It took me only another split second to decide that I would confront him, engage in a conversation with him. The way he was looking at me right now—with an open face and the beginnings of a smile—I could tell he wanted to talk to me, too. So I took a deep breath and walked toward him. In just a few steps, I would find out what this strange man wanted from me.
A slight smile spread across his lips as I was only three feet away from him. I prepared to speak when I heard my name called out behind me.
“Jamie! There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”
I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around to face the owner to that male voice. Behind me was Rolf, hurrying down the stairs.
“Hey, Rolf,” I said in response.
Rolf descended onto the café floor and strode up to me.
“There’s a member who wants to train with you. Come with me and I’ll give you his information.”
I wanted to tell Rolf that I couldn’t come right now because I was busy. I was about to finally figure out what the blond mystery man wanted from me; I couldn’t lose this opportunity.
But as I took in the expression on my fitness manager’s face, I knew I had no choice but to follow him to where he wanted to go and give me the information to the member who wanted my services. Refusing would be weird as well as inexplicable—why would I reject my manager when he wanted to hand me a client when that’s what I was at the club to get?
So, I joined Rolf as he pointed toward the membership service office and walked in that direction. Soon, we were behind the glass doors to that office and talking to one of the membership directors.
I tried my best to look grateful as the overly muscular membership director with the tiny head handed me a sheet of member information.
“This guy saw you on the floor and requested to train with you,” he said. “He bought twenty sessions. Please call him immediately to schedule the first session. He’s expecting your call.”
“Thanks so much,” I responded mechanically and took the sheet. “I’ll call him as soon as we’re done here.”
“Please do. He’s eager to get started.”
“Okay, see you guys later then,” I said and raised the sheet in a gesture of goodbye to both men. If I hurried back out, I should be able to catch Mystery Man and talk to him at last.
I walked as quickly as I could out of the membership office toward the cafeteria. I soon spotted the table the man had occupied, but, once again, he was gone.
I clenched my teeth in frustration. Just my luck.
I hung around the café a couple minutes in the hopes that he would appear again, having maybe just gone to the bathroom. But he didn’t.
When I spotted my manager about to exit the membership office, I swiveled around and dashed up the stairs to the gym floors. I didn’t want Rolf spotting me hanging around the café when I was supposed to be contacting this new member who was so eager to work with me.
As I reached the fourth floor where the fitness desk was with the employee phones, I was breathing shallowly having moved so fast. I tried to cheer myself with the knowledge that it should only be a matter of time before I saw the mystery man again. The fact that he had appeared twice in two days—once late in the evening—told me he must be a member, not a guest after all.
I just needed to keep my eyes open and I’d finally connect with him.
I went up to one of the employee phones on the counter that made up the fitness desk and dialed the member who wanted to train with me. His name was Ian Amory. A voice recording relating the phone number I had dialed picked up instead of a human being. I left a message, telling him who I was and how to get in touch with me.
It was almost nine o’clock now, which meant my shift was over, so I went into the trainers’ lounge and clocked out. Then I grabbed my jacket and purse. I would go out running instead of lifting weights tonight; it was a nice evening and I preferred exercising outside whenever possible.
I kept my eyes open for the mystery man as I walked back down to the health club exit and crossed the café. But of course I didn’t spot him again.
I jogged home to get rid of my bag and switch into running gear. It was still pleasant out from earlier in the day, when temperatures had risen to an unusual seventy-three degrees. I couldn’t wait until I got going with my run. Sprinting as fast as I could through Central Park at this time of night when few people crowded it would clear my head and give me a good sweat, both things I could use.
Making sure my iPod was securely clipped onto the sports bra under my sweater and the earbuds in my ear, I began jogging along 70th street. Before long, I was inside the big park. As expected, few people were here this late in the evening, so I could run undisturbed.
Warmed up now, I ran faster and had soon covered the bend that made up the lower part of the park and was heading north. The next song on my playlist had a faster beat, urging me to take longer, quicker strides. Soon, I was flying over the asphalted road and the sweat trickled down the sides of my ribcage. I passed every runner ahead of me and zipped by ones I met.
When I had nearly covered the length of the loop and was heading back south, I spotted hardly anyone and it was so dark out I only saw the person if the light from the streetlamps caught him or her.
As I was at the final stretch of my six-mile run, I found myself completely alone. It was exhilarating but also somewhat unsettling, so I was glad I had my Glock in a holster at the back of my hip. Armed or not, I lowered the music volume so I’d be able to hear if someone was near me. No matter how safe Central Park was these days, and especially this part, one couldn’t be too careful.
Far ahead, a man came running toward me. I couldn’t help but notice that he moved slowly and awkwardly, like he was beat. All of a sudden, he collapsed on the asphalt. He must have passed out, I thought and ran up to him. Thankfully, he was near a streetlamp, so I got a good view of him. The dark-haired, medium-sized man had indeed passed out and was splayed across the road. He looked too young and fit to have experienced a heart attack. Unless he had a heart condition. That could be the case here.
Squatting beside him, I tilted my head sideways to check if he was breathing still. I realized a nanosecond too late that I should’ve gotten my gun out just in case this was a hoax. By then, he had already grabbed a big chunk of my hair and I felt something cold and hard against my temple—what could only be the muzzle of a gun.
“You and I will get into a standing position together, then we’ll go into the trees,” a smoky male voice hissed into my ear and agilely sat up, forcing me to move with him. Soon, we were both on our feet. Holding me in an iron grip, the two of us moved like crabs toward the cluster of trees and bushes that grew right beside the road.
I tried not to panic as we kept moving and instead focus on how to get away. It seemed he was alone and, if I was lucky, he didn’t realize I was armed.
As soon as he let me go, I’d pull my gun on him. I hoped the gun that was pushed into my head would be gone when he got me where he wanted.
It didn’t take long before we were off the road and passed the first trees.
When we were farther in, safely hidden from the road and any people who might be coming by, the man removed the gun from my head and loosened his grip around me, just like I had hoped. Unfortunately, he was standing in front of me in no time and had his gun pointed straight at me, so I didn’t dare what I had planned to do next—kick him in the groin and then find my weapon.
“If you scream or try something, I’ll shoot you,” he hissed in my face.
I couldn’t determine his ethnicity in the dark, only that he was quite pale and Caucasian. He didn’t have an accent, so I assumed he must be American.
Not taking his eyes off me, he pulled out a piece of white cloth from a pocket in his dark jacket. Because of the light the full moon cast I could see his fleshy mouth turn into a close-lipped little grin, his eyes gleaming crazily. He placed the muzzle of his gun to my forehead.
“Don’t do anything stupid now or you’re dead,” he murmured. “Open your mouth.”
Frantically, I thought of something to do, of how to get out of this rapidly escalating situation. I needed to do something.
“Open your mouth!” the man repeated, his face going dark and the gun pressing harder against my head. I didn’t know what else to do but what he wanted.
He reached his hand with the cloth toward my mouth, but before he could insert it, he paused. “Do you have any last wishes? Anything you want to say before you die?”
Suddenly, the sound of a firecracker shot through the air and the man jerked. Falling like a tree hard on the ground, blood poured out of the side of his head, looking like black ink on white paper in the moonlight.
I was momentarily stunned. Who had shot the man on the ground? Was I next?
Grabbing my gun, I slipped behind a large tree trunk in case the shooter was about to take me down too. If I was running, I’d be a much easier target. Even if the secret gunman had saved me for some reason, I couldn’t count on him being my friend.
The world was full of psychos.
Since I couldn’t see the person, I tried to make myself as small as possible by crouching down and my back facing west. The shot that took down the man on the ground had come from the east, which told me the shooter must be somewhere in that direction.
The sound of soft footsteps reached my ears then, and I saw a man approaching from the area I had estimated the shooter to be in. He was too far away for me to be able to make out what he looked like. My hand tightened around my gun and I held my breath as he came closer, my heart hammering.
He was only a few steps from the dead man on the ground now, who was about four yards away from me. My savior was definitely a man and a fairly big one too. He was holding what could only be a gun in his hand, close to his chin. The moonlight hit his face then, giving me a good look. I silenced the gasp that was about to escape me.
It was the mystery man from Nikkei.
Had he been the one who’d saved me? It had to be. How big was the chance another person was walking around with a gun right then, right in that area?
I pressed myself to the trunk, not sure what to do next. Why had he saved me?
“Gabi, where are you?” I heard him say then.
I closed my eyes as I kept pressing myself against the tree trunk. How did he know my real name?
“Please don’t be scared,” he continued quietly. He was standing right in front of the tree where I was hiding. “I’m not going to hurt you. Would I have shot that guy if I wanted to hurt you?” He spoke with a British accent.
I tried to decide what to do, if I believed him. I had no idea what was going on. How he could possibly know my real identity.
“Please come out, Gabi.” There was a pleading tone to his voice now. “I won’t leave until you do.”
With the gun next to my face, both of my hands grasping it, I slowly walked around the tree trunk. As our eyes met, I directed my gun at him and said, “Drop the gun or I’ll shoot you right now. Drop it and hold up your hands!”
He did as I said and raised his arms in the air.
“How do you know my name?” I asked him quietly, standing only three yards away from him. “Who are you?”
He smiled at me, a warm smile. “How about we go somewhere and I’ll tell you everything from the beginning? Somewhere where we don’t have to worry about being overheard?”
I ignored his request and instead lightly kicked the man on the ground. “Do you know this man? Why he attacked me?”
“That I don’t know. I have no idea who he is. But we could start by checking his ID.”
He nodded with his head to the body between us.
“Why don’t you do it for me?” I demanded.
“Sure.” He squatted next to the man and rolled the body so that it faced the ground. He stuck his hand into the back pocket of the man’s pants and pulled out a wallet. Opening the wallet, he peered into it.
“Who is he?” I asked, still pointing my gun at the blond man.
He gazed up at me. “It’s too dark in here to be able to tell. Let’s go somewhere and take a look at it. That way we can also talk. I can tell you who I am and why I know who you are. Please believe that I’m your friend, Gabi. That’s why I saved you.”
“Give me your gun and then we’ll go,” I said. “Kick it over to me.”
He did as I wanted and I picked it up and tucked it into my waistband.
“Okay, let’s go,” I said.