Craving Perfect (23 page)

She smiled, just a tiny one. “Oh, yes.”

“We just wanted to see how you were doing,” Max continued. “Hadn’t heard from you in a while. You haven’t been returning my calls.” He dragged his fingers over the top of his head. His hair stood up in a peak. “And then Alexandra and I started talking…” Still wide-eyed, he looked at Alexandra for confirmation.

Alexandra met his gaze but only pursed her plump lips and said nothing.

I laughed. “And you two thought you’d just get it on? In my bed?” It was hard not to laugh.

Alexandra’s eyes darkened. It was not the reaction she wanted. She sank lower in the bed.

My voice remained strangely calm. “Figures, Alexandra. Can’t say that I’m surprised.” I sighed, almost with what felt like relief. “I am surprised, though, that it hadn’t happened sooner.”

Max leaned forward. “It’s not like that, Cal.” His forehead became shiner the more he squirmed. Clearly he wasn’t having as much fun as Alexandra.

But then Alexandra turned her darkening mood on Max. “Sure it is!” She blurted. “Tell her! Tell her everything!”

I watched Max’s Adam’s apple travel to the top of his neck and then lodge there like a peach pit. His usually tanned face looked ghostly pale underneath the chandelier. He fidgeted like a school boy who just got caught passing a note.

Alexandra sighed and rolled her eyes. “Well, I guess it might as well be me.” She turned to me. “We’ve been sleeping together for months.” She waved her hands helplessly, as if to say,
who could resist my charms?
Then the grin returned to her face.

I wanted to puke.

“Your fiancé has been unable to keep his hands off me.”

“He’s not my fiancé.”

Max looked worse than I did with a migraine.

“There.” Alexandra said with finality. “I said it. It’s out, now.” She paused and then began to examine a fingernail. “I really can’t believe you never suspected.”

My jaw clenched. “And I’m sure you’ve been dying to tell me.” My eyes stayed fixed on Alexandra. “Just waiting for the right moment.”

Alexandra lifted her gaze to mine, but not without an eye roll.

Finally, I turned to Max. “Well, don’t lose too much sleep over it. I’m glad for you. You deserve each other.” My arms dropped to my sides.

Max’s back stiffened. “Callie, wait. Let’s talk about this.”

But I lifted my palm, stopping him, while Max pinched his nose with his thumb and forefinger. That’s when I noticed white powder on his nostrils.

The sight of it made me even more nauseous.

“You’ll have to continue this—” I wiggled my finger between them, “—somewhere else.”

Alexandra clung to Max’s arm.

I looked at my wristwatch. “You’ve got exactly two minutes to get the hell out of here.” I glanced again at my wristwatch. “And don’t think for a second that I won’t call Kevin for help.”

They both looked at me, stunned.

“Well? Get going!” My voice thundered. “You just wasted ten seconds.”

Alexandra sighed before lifting off the bed, buck-naked.

I turned for door. Over my shoulder I said, “And I’ll need both sets of keys.”

When I reached the foyer, my whole body swayed like I just stepped onto a boat. I hadn’t realized how hard I’d been working to hold myself together until I was finally alone. The white fuzz returned and the pain sliced across my forehead.

Just one more minute till they’re gone, Grace.
I told myself between deep breaths.
Just hold on.

They must have believed me because one minute later Max emerged from the bedroom, shirtless, his black work pants all wrinkled and his fly open. My eyes didn’t even drift to his perfectly chiseled abs like they’d done so many times at Goldie’s Gym. He could never again make my stomach flutter. Frankly, I could barely stand the sight of him. I just wanted him gone, along with his pencil-thin girlfriend.

We both stood silently, although Max’s lips kept moving and then shutting, as if he was trying to say something but forgot the words. Honestly, I really don’t know what he could have said that would have made anything better.

Then Alexandra emerged, carrying a tube of lipstick and applying it as she walked. The woman was a freak of nature. There wasn’t a wrinkle anywhere in her dress, she even managed to slip on pantyhose, and her hair looked like it had been professionally styled. How’d she do it?

I didn’t want to know. Didn’t care anymore.

In her other hand, she dangled a pair of black stilettos which made the six-inch heels I wore look like ballet slippers.

All I could do was shake my head. I had to marvel at how easy it was for her to be perfect. Unfortunately that was where her talents ended.

“What?” She stopped applying her dark-red lipstick long enough to lock onto my gaze.

“Keys?” I held out my hands.

Alexandra dropped her keys in my hand. Max waited a second, though, as if we still had a chance to patch things up.

As Alexandra leaned on Max to slip on her shoes, she couldn’t resist a parting shot. I expected it. “Isn’t it funny?” A maniacal grin had taken over her face. “I’ve got Max. And next I’ll have your job.” She paused long enough for her right eyebrow to arch. “If you’re lucky, you’ll be
my
assistant.” She giggled.

In her heels, Alexandra towered over me. I could only look up and meet her smile. “Alexandra. It’s yours. You can have it all.”

Alexandra’s smug smile faded instantly.

“You’re welcome.”

She started to blink, almost in slow motion.

I grinned at her. “Goodbye, Alexandra. Goodbye, Max.” I reached for the door and pulled it open. With a wave of my hand, I ushered them out, ignoring the stabbing pain at my temples.

“Callie.” Max tried again.

Frankly, I gave him points for persistence.

But when I didn’t respond, his shoulders caved forward in final defeat.

“Out,” I commanded. “
Now
.”

Silently, they passed through the doorway, Max following Alexandra like a confused puppy.

I gently shut the door. Then I bolted it, just in case there was a phantom third house key in one of their pockets.

Finally quiet, I slipped down to the cold marble floor, one tired vertebrae at a time pressing against the wood. It was good to be alone.

For once, it didn’t feel so bad.

Behind me, I reached up for the corner table where I stashed my unopened mail. My purse rested on the corner. I pulled it down and reached inside for my cell phone.

Thank god for speed dial. I don’t know if my eyes would have found the strength to focus on the tiny keys. Fortunately, I only had to press 3.

I cleared my throat as the phone rang. “Kevin?” I said when he answered. “Hi, it’s me. Callie. Could you do me a big favor tomorrow?”

Kathryn and I sat on either side of Grace’s bed, silent.

Every so often, a nurse would enter the room to check a tube, empty a clear bag, or adjust one of the humming machines.

And occasionally, only for a moment, Grace’s eyelids would flicker. I’d look across at Kathryn and she at me, our expressions hopeful.

“Do you think she can hear us?” Kathryn asked me.

I leaned over Grace’s arm. An IV needle was stuck inside a vein in her wrist. I wanted to hold her hand but I was afraid it would hurt her. “I hope so,” I said.

“Good. ’Cause there are so many things I need to tell her.” Kathryn’s voice caught. “So many things I should have said, things I’ve been holding inside since our parents died. I haven’t been honest with her.” She stroked Grace’s cheek with the back of her hand.

Then she looked across at me and smiled, sadly. “I’m always pushing her to be someone she isn’t when she’s perfect the way she is. Why is that?” She laughed but the laughter stuck inside her throat.

My chest tightened. I shook my head. I couldn’t imagine asking Grace to be anything she wasn’t.

“She was the strong one after our parents died, not me. She pushed us forward. It should have been me though. I’m the oldest. I should have known better.”

“Kathryn.” I exhaled, unsure what to tell her. She was torturing herself with guilt, but at the same time I felt protective of Grace.

She continued. “We never really talked about it. The accident, I mean. It all happened so fast. Maybe if we had, things wouldn’t have become so crazy, so mixed up. But things are always so busy…” Her voice trailed off.

“Running a business is hard work—”

She chuckled. “Yep,” She popped the
p
.
 
“That, it is.” Then she inhaled, releasing the breath out slowly. “If only I loved it half as much as Grace. She clings to it. Sometimes I wonder if she thinks it will bring our parents back.” Kathryn paused, tilting her head, still staring down at Grace. “Funny, but she can’t let it go and I can’t get away from it fast enough.” She choked back a sob. “Crappy, huh?”

“Maybe you should take a break. Go down to the cafeteria and get something to eat. I’ll stay here. I’ll watch her.” I looked behind me for Eddie and Elena. To be honest, I had no idea where they were and no idea when they left. Elena may have taken my truck and gone home. I hoped she had. The doctor said it could be hours, even days, before Grace regained consciousness. He also said that sometimes a mental trauma, even depression, could make a coma worse.

“Can I bring you something? Some coffee?” Kathryn stood, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

I looked up at her. My eyes burned but they were too anxious to close. “Sure. Coffee sounds good.”

Kathryn nodded but then she turned back to Grace. She stroked her cheek one last time. Grace’s eyelids flickered and we both leaned closer. “Doctor said sometimes grief makes the brain shut down and do some weird things.” She turned to me. “You think she’ll wake up soon?”

I inhaled. “Yes. Grace will wake up. She has to. I won’t give her a choice.”

“Good.” Kathryn’s shoulders pulled back. “Me neither.”

I felt something delicate. It tickled my cheek like a feather.

My eyes flew open, cloudy, and I didn’t know where I was. All around me, I was bathed in a golden light.

The pounding in my head had stopped, fortunately. Finally my eyes could focus but my eyelids were dry.

Then I realized where I was.

I’d fallen asleep on the marble floor in the foyer of my condo.

The stone felt wonderfully cool against my skin. I lifted my face to the door; it was still bolted. Then I turned toward the windows. Happy morning light streamed through all of the windows at an angle, tiny dust particles floating in the air like silver sparkles.

I never made it to my bedroom, not that I wanted to sleep in my bed. I’d sooner burn it first.

Slowly, I lifted myself up, my legs still wobbly. I rubbed my eyes and waited for my head to stop spinning because I had some serious work to do this morning.

This time, though, I’d get it right.

Last night, I’d written a letter, sealed it inside an envelope and given it to Kevin. I asked him to give it to me the next time he saw me. A strange request, sure. But Kevin promised to do it. No questions asked.

An hour after leaving my condo, I was gaping one last time at perfection in the mirrors at Goldie’s Gym.

I reached up to tuck my hair behind my ear. A perfect blond curl had fallen uncharacteristically loose from my ponytail. I smiled anyway and sighed at my flawless complexion, slender body, wispy arms that looked so lovely in sleeveless T-shirts and, of course, my perfect feet. Weirdly, I’d probably miss my perfect size six feet most of all. Shoe shopping had never been so much fun.

But that was okay. Perfection was too complicated.

I only hoped the Goldie’s Gym treadmill could take me back to where I needed to be. Where I wanted to be all along. I was a fool to have ever left.

I took a final deep breath and one last long look. I was ready for all of my imperfections with no regrets. And I wanted Carlos Flores to look at me the way he’d never look at me when I was Callie Collins. I had begun to miss that most of all.

Quickly, I threaded my gym bag over my shoulder and jogged toward the aerobic room.

A moment later, I practically crashed to my knees.

The spot on the floor where the new treadmill sat was empty—as in
missing.

Gone.

Vanished.

I gasped for breath, pressing a hand against my chest, feeling the floor spin again. My gym bag slipped off my shoulder. It thumped to the ground. My hands began to shake as I considered the alternatives.

What alternatives?

There were none. There was only one way back.

My mind raced. The treadmill had been sitting there for weeks. Until the day I needed it most of all.

The only evidence of its existence were four deep indentations in the brown carpet, but I remembered it, sitting there. It wasn’t just my imagination.

I rubbed my hands together to quell the shaking while I scanned the rest of the room—hoping, wishing, pleading for it to reappear. The treadmill had to be around the gym somewhere. It couldn’t just walk away by itself. Could it?

I turned to the guy peddling a nearby stationary bicycle. “Do you know where the new treadmill went? The one that used to be here? Right here?” I pointed to the empty space on the carpet.

Bicycle Guy popped out his earbud. He smiled as his eyes swept over me, and I fought the urge to scream. “Treadmill?” He said the word like he’d never heard it before. His shoulders shrugged. “Don’t know about the treadmill but nobody’s using the bicycle next to me.” He nodded an invitation to the empty machine beside him.

“Forget it,” I murmured, my breathing wheezing through my teeth. I had to find that treadmill. It was a matter of life and—well, another perfectly good life.

I spun in place, still scanning the gym. The walls were starting to close in on me. My forehead began to throb, although it was probably more accurate to say that the throbbing had never stopped.

But then I had a breakthrough: Chad.

Again, Front Desk Guy might prove useful.

Dashing out of the aerobic room, I raced across the gym to the front entrance, leaping over hand weights and benches like an Olympic hurdler.

Bicycle Guy yelled after me, “Hey, you forgot your bag!” but I ignored him.

“Chad,” I said just as soon as I reached the front desk. I gripped the edges of the counter to steady myself. With a tilt of my head, I forced a smile, the kind that demanded attention, the kind that women like Callie Collins got away with. “What happened to the new treadmill?” I asked, not caring that there were three people at the counter waiting for Chad to swipe their badges and allow entry.

As expected, Chad ignored the other customers, including one pale girl with an oversized T-shirt and bicycle shorts. Jeez, I hated being
That Girl
, the one who got whatever she wanted—but I was desperate.

“What treadmill, Callie?” Chad chirped, leaning over the counter with his elbows, ready to dish.

“The new one that used to sit on the right corner of the first row.” I turned, pointing toward Bicycle Guy who looked back at us and waved.

But Chad didn’t look to see where I pointed. He was too busy panting at me like a Chihuahua.

I spun back around, reaching for his bony shoulders. My teeth clenched. “Concentrate, Chad.” It became impossible to maintain my smile. “It’s important.”

Chad’s eyes grew wider in direct proportion to the desperation in my voice. Finally, he swallowed. “I think Carlos moved the treadmill in the back.” He lifted his hand and pointed behind me. “Something was wrong with it. It’s broken, I think. You can blame him, not me.”

I turned, following his finger. “In the back? Where?” I wouldn’t let myself accept the
it’s broken
part.

“Over there.” He pointed vaguely again, like it was a major effort to lift his arm. But then I realized I was squeezing his shoulders pretty hard.

I squinted, following the trace of his finger just past the aerobic room and weight room. But I saw nothing.

No back.

No doorway.

Only more hallways filled with floor-to-ceiling mirrors. It was like one of those crazy fun-houses at the fair that were creepy and not really fun at all. Then I realized that I’d never seen those mirrors before. Or the new hallway.

But there was no time for questions about the architecture.

I released Chad’s shoulders, at the same time scanning the gym for Carlos. Carlos would be able to help me. He’d know.

“Is Carlos around?” I turned back to Chad who’d taken one step away from the counter. The line of customers behind the counter had disappeared. “Help me, please, Chad,” I begged. “I’ve
got
to find that treadmill.”

Chad’s smile had become as forced as mine. “Sure thing, Callie. I’ll show you. Follow me.”

My jaw softened and I instantly regretted snapping at him. But if he could only point me in the right direction…

He hopped over the counter and started walking.

I caught up easily and walked beside him.

“Why’s this treadmill so important, anyway?” He glanced at me sideways.

“I…I think I may have left…” My hand brushed across my perfectly smooth stomach. “…my belly button ring in it yesterday,” I lied.

Chad’s eyes narrowed, unconvinced.

“You know,” I stammered. “…in one of those little plastic thingamajigs.”
Where inconsiderate people usually toss their gum and empty water bottles.
I forced another weak smile. All the smiling was starting to pinch my face.

He turned to glance down at my stomach.

Instinctively, I placed a hand against my belly button. “Anyway, I’m late for work as it is. If you could just take me to this treadmill.”

“Of course, Callie. What are friends for?” His tone was phony but I’d have followed him to the ends of the earth if he could show me my treadmill.

Little did I know that I practically had to.

We walked past the weight room, the three adjoining aerobic rooms, the lap pool, the locker rooms, and even closed office doors with brass nameplates etched with words like
Massage Room
and
Nutritional Counseling
. Was it possible that I had never seen this part of the building, in all the months I’d been a member?

Then Chad led me down a gray carpeted hallway to a black metal door the size of a bank vault. I presumed this was the back door. There was no other.

We were so far from the main gym that I could no longer hear the piped in satellite music. The air smelled damp too, like wet towels. Instinctively, I crossed my arms and rubbed my shoulders.

Chad pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the metal door. “It’s stored inside here.” His voice echoed in the empty hallway.

I nodded behind him, figuring as much.

The door creaked and opened to pitch-black and a musty odor. It smelled like a basement that wasn’t really a basement. My nose wrinkled.

I waited for Chad to find the light switch before I stepped inside. Only a single light bulb overhead struggled to brighten the center of the room. It dangled from the ceiling from a chain.

But underneath the light sat a treadmill.

I smiled.

It was the treadmill. My treadmill.

Relieved, I drew back a breath as my smile faded. I only had to get it to work.

I stepped around Chad and walked across the room. I hopped on the treadmill, gauging its rubber mat, and straddled it cautiously. It was definitely the one I remembered, its bars still smooth and free from nicks and scratches. Even the rubber mat still smelled a little like motor oil. An
Out of Order
sign dangled around the control panel by a thin silver chain.

“See? Told you it was broken,” Chad said when he saw me frown at the sign. He leaned against the doorway, watching me.

I pretended to peek inside the plastic cup holder, like I was checking for my lost belly button ring, wondering how I could get him to leave me and the treadmill alone. All I needed was a few minutes. “You don’t have to wait for me. I’ll lock the door when I’m done.”

“No prob, Cal. I can wait.”

“But what about the front desk?”

His eyes rolled. “They can wait.”

Chad wasn’t making this easy.

I pressed the START button.

Nothing happened.

My chest tightened. I pressed the button again, harder.

The treadmill began to move underneath my feet. “Jeez, would you look at that?” I looked down at the belt as it started to groan forward. “I guess it’s not really broken.” I flashed Chad a reassuring smile as my legs began to move. Meanwhile I fumbled with the empty insides of the black containers hanging around the control panel while my thumb pressed the UP arrow. Hard.

But the treadmill wouldn’t chug faster.

The lights on the control panel flickered dimly.

“Dang,” I muttered as I continued to press buttons. It didn’t light up like I remembered. Maybe it really was broken. Maybe Chad was right.

“What are you trying to do?” Chad circled the treadmill.

I gripped the side bars and inhaled, wondering whether I could trust Chad with my secret. I looked down at his pale, lifeless blue eyes.

There was only one answer.

I had to lie. “I just thought that since I’m all the way back here…” My hands made nervous gestures. “…and since the treadmill is sitting right here and all…working. Obviously…” I licked my dry lips. “I just thought I’d do my workout back here. Might as well. Since I’m already late for work.” I polished off my lameness with an even more unconvincing bright tone.

“But, it’s broken,” Chad said slowly, nodding at the
Out of Order
sign, obviously questioning my ability to read. “It’s barely moving.”

I stepped off the treadmill, a tad irritated. I stood face-to-face with Chad, my hands resting on my hips. “Well, here’s the thing…”

Chad’s eyes grew dangerously wide.

“It might say it’s broken.” My head tilted toward the treadmill. “But I have the feeling I can get it to work. I just need to give it another try.”

“Have you tried plugging it in?” said an amused voice from the doorway.

Chad practically jumped into my arms.

Carlos
.

My stomach fluttered. Watching Carlos fill the doorway made me want to hitch the treadmill to the back of stampeding horses.

Dressed in his usual white work shirt and baggy pants, he leaned against the wall with crossed arms and a curious smile on his face. If I hadn’t felt so desperate, I might have laughed.
Of course!
I wanted to scream.
It had to be plugged in!

“It’s just working on its battery now. The battery is weak,” Carlos added.

My whole body wanted him, bad. “The power cord. Right.” I cleared away the dryness in my throat and then walked to the front of the machine. Absently, I asked, “What’s wrong with this machine, anyway?” mostly to keep from staring at him. “Why did you move it back here?”

“People said that it wasn’t working right. Sometimes it worked; sometimes it didn’t.” He stepped inside the room, ignoring Chad. He crossed the room and lifted the front of the machine.

“Thanks.” I reached underneath for the cord.

Chad sighed with obvious irritation from the other side of the room.

We ignored him.

“Broken? How?” I straightened the cord as Carlos lowered the treadmill.

“Sometimes the control panel doesn’t light up like it should. We were getting ready to ship it back to the manufacturer today for a replacement.”

“Oh. Well, I got the control panel to light up, even on a low battery. It must be working.” My tone was hopeful. The treadmill had to work. I was out of options.

Carlos stood upright, brushing his hands together. From his expression, I wasn’t sure he cared.

But I wanted him to care. Badly.

“I just need an outlet.” My eyes scanned the corners but the light from the lone bulb cast dark shadows, making it difficult to see.

“I still don’t understand what’s so important about this treadmill,” Chad piped in from the doorway.