CHAPTER SIX
Chad
What a great fucking weekend. I flew out to L.A. on Friday for one of the biggest fitness expos in the country. Not only are fitness expos a great way to promote myself, but I get to meet a lot of my fans. Nothing's more important to me than my fans. Well, besides me, of course. But that goes without saying.
As always, there were tons of gorgeous women at the expo. Nothing but a sea of girls who do squats and hip thrusts seven days a week. My kinda girls. Usually, I hook up with at least a couple chicks when I go to an expo. This weekend, though, I didn't hook up with anyone. The whole time I was thinking about Emma.
I don't know what it is about her. Since I saw Emma for the first time last week, I haven't been able to get her off my mind. Technically, it wasn't the first time that I saw her. We went to high school together, but I barely remember her. I vaguely recall a really big girl with a really pretty face that used to sit next to me in a few classes. Other than that, I don't remember much about her.
It's Tuesday morning – early afternoon, actually – and I walk into Fit World with my chest out and a smile on my face. You always gotta present yourself a certain way in this business. No one wants a mopey, hunched over personal trainer. It's all about confidence, just like everything else. The more confident you act, regardless of whether you actually are or not, the further you'll go in life. You'll get more clients, more women, and more respect.
I walk past Emma's office on the way to mine. Her blinds are down and the door is shut. She must be in with a client. All weekend long, I couldn't get Emma out of my mind. There's just something about her. And the fact that she turned down my offer to take her out on a date - my first offer - only makes me more interested. I like a challenge and this girl isn't making things easy for me. I'll get her to go out with me, though. When I want something, I get it. Always.
For the rest of the afternoon, I keep an eye on Emma's office while I'm training my clients. I see her come out every so often, bringing her clients to and from the front desk. Emma looks so fucking good. And the thing is, it's obvious that she's not even trying. The girl's barely wearing any makeup. She's dressed modestly enough that her outfit leaves a little bit to the imagination. I can still tell that she's got a really nice body under there, though.
“You seem distracted today, Chad,” my client says. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Everything's fine. Don't worry about me. Just focus on the exercise.”
I'm doing my best to train this client but can't stop thinking about Emma. The client that I'm training – Melissa's her name, I think – has a smokin' body. Usually, I get up close and personal with her during out training sessions. It's fun for me and I know she enjoys it. Today, though, I have no desire to even look at her. She's bouncing her firm ass all around in front of me, trying to get my attention, but it's just not working.
“You're doing great, Melissa,” I say, seeing Emma out of the corner of my eye. “Do another set. I'll be right back.”
“Okay,” she replies. “Sure. Oh, and Chad?”
“What?”
“It's Marissa, not Melissa.”
Melissa. Marissa. Who the fuck cares? Not me, that's for sure. What I do care about is getting Emma to go out with me. I see her walking toward the fountain to refill her water bottle. It just so happens that I could use a little hydration myself right about now. I walk up behind Emma but she doesn't see me. Not at first.
“Oh, Emma!” I say when she turns around. “I didn't know that was you. How are you?”
“I'm fine, Chad. Excuse me.”
“Give me a minute. I want you to reconsider my offer to take you out. I promise you'll have a good time.”
“I actually did reconsider, Chad. Then I reconsidered again.”
“Oh? And what changed?”
“It doesn't matter.”
“It matters to me. You reconsidered, which means you decided you wanted to go out with me. But then something happened to change your mind again. What was it?”
“You really wanna know?”
“I asked, didn't I?”
“I saw your Instagram.”
“And?”
“And I saw hundreds of pictures of you groping one fake-titted bimbo after the next. You're a misogynistic asshole and I don't go out with assholes.”
I can't help but laugh. Usually when a girl sees my Instagram, it turns them on knowing that I get so many women. Emma, like with everything else, gives me the exact opposite reaction. And that turns me on.
“Something funny?” she asks, obviously upset.
“Emma, those Instagram pictures are all about publicity. I'm not even the one who posts them. My social media manager does it for me. He handles all that stuff.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You think I go around grabbing girls' asses and sticking my face in their tits all the time? Those are all manufactured situations. My social media manager has cultivated a certain persona for me – a successful persona, I might add – that I need to maintain.”
“Keep talking.”
“I make a lot of money selling supplements and workout plans. In order for me to do that, I need to grow or at least maintain my following. And to do that, I need to put out a certain image. An image that other guys look up to. The musclebound party boy that gets all the chicks image. That's not the real me that you see on Instagram. You can't judge me based on my Instagram, Emma. It's not fair.”
I can tell she's reconsidering once again. The look in Emma's eyes is a look I've seen before. She's not the first girl who's mind I've had to change.
“So you're telling me that all those pictures of you with all those women were staged? All of them?”
“Pretty much, yeah. My social media manager sets all those photos up. He's the one that uploads them and posts the captions, too.”
Emma doesn't say anything for several seconds. Neither of us do. I can tell she's mulling everything over in her head. Our eyes meet and I reach out and take one of her hands into mine.
“Emma,” I say, “let me take you out on one date. If you don't have an amazing time, I'll never bother you again. Promise.”
After another moment of silence, Emma finally says, “Fine. One date. But if you're at all rude to me, I'll get up right then and walk out. Don't think I won't.”
My heart starts beating much faster, like I'm in the middle of an intense cardio session. I can't remember the last time I had this reaction to a girl. Actually, I don't think I've ever reacted like this. What the fuck is it about this girl that's driving me so crazy? Normally, I'm as cool as a cucumber around girls. With Emma, every time I talk to her, every time I'm near her, I get this weird feeling in my stomach. I don't know what it is and I don't know if I like it.
“Cool,” I reply, doing my best to hide my enthusiasm. “How's Friday night?”
“Friday night's fine.”
I can tell by the tone of Emma's voice that she's excited – or at least wants to be – but is trying not to show it. This girl's defenses are way up and I need to tear them all down, carefully. I'm really gonna have to try to be on my best behavior. Without sacrificing who I am, that is. I'm still gonna be me.
“Awesome. I'll pick you up at seven?”
“I'll meet you there. Where are we going?”
“Damn, Emma, you're really fighting me on this, huh?”
“Don't push it. You're lucky I'm going out with you at all.”
“Fine. Do you like Italian food?”
“Yeah, I do. It's actually one of my favorites.”
“I know a place. Best Italian food in the city. It's called Gustoso Italiano. Ever been?”
“No, but I've heard of it. Isn't it, like, really expensive?”
“It's really good, is what it is. Don't worry about anything. I invited you, I'll take care of it. Meet me there at seven?”
“Seven o'clock, Friday. I'll be there. Assuming you don't do anything between now and then to make me change my mind – again.”
“Don't worry, Emma. Nothing's gonna happen between now and then. We're gonna have a great time. I should probably get back to my client.”
I look over and see Melissa standing there, watching me from halfway across the gym. How long have I been over here talking to Emma? Even time goes by differently when I'm around her.
“You probably never should've left your client,” Emma says with a smirk. “Have a good night, Chad. Don't make me regret saying yes.”
“Oh, you won't. Trust me.”
I return to Melissa or Clarissa or whatever the fuck her name is. We wrap up our training session and I send her out the door. I can't wait until Friday. I'm gonna impress the shit out of Emma. Jake comes into my office while I'm doing my notes for whats-her-name. He's got a big, stupid grin on his face.
“Well?” Jake asks. “Did you ask her out?”
“Come on, bro! What do you think? Of course I did.”
“And she said yes I take it?”
“Again, of course!”
“That's my dude! Where are you taking her?”
“We're gonna start the night at Gustoso Italiano and go from there.”
“Damn, bro! You must really like this chick. You've never taken a date anywhere near as high-class as Gustoso Italiano.”
“Emma's a classy girl. Classy girls get classy treatment.”
“Man, you're so gonna bang this chick!”
“Fucking right I am!”
Jake exits my office just as abruptly as he entered it. I am gonna fuck Emma. Or at least I'm gonna do everything within my power to fuck her. Now that's gonna be a real challenge. She certainly doesn't seem like the fuck on the first date type. I'm gonna do my best to change that on Friday.