Chapter 26
Daniel
Ten minutes earlier…
I push open the door to the locker room and am visually assaulted by a mural of a larger-than-life pot-bellied man sitting completely nude in the center of a lotus flower.
No – I’m not talking Buddah, here. I’m talking a round-tummied, Regular Joe with a penis the size of a baby carrot. Why anyone would find this thing artistic is beyond me. He looks like a truck driver from Idaho who decided to get naked and smoke some pot after a long-haul shift across the country. Is it supposed to be soothing? Am I supposed to be comforted by the fact that this guy – even with an AAA battery for a dick – was able to find his inner peace?
There’s hope for me yet.
Once I manage to pry my eyes off of the mural, I plod over to the benches and drop my bag down. A quick glance into the mirror covering the wall shows me just how drenched I am. I peel off my T-shirt and toss it aside before prying open the zipper of my gym bag.
A sense of confusion takes over when I pull the first item out.
It’s a pair of loose orange pants with colorful embroidery and sequins snaking their way down the side. The shimmery linen hangs loose around the crotch and there's elastic cinching it tight at the ankles. It looks like traditional Indian garb.
The next item I pull out is a slack yellow U-neck tank top cut so low that my nipples are bound to make an appearance in class today. I dig through the bag and only find more of the same.
Is this Sanaya’s idea of a joke?
I can’t wear this. If I’m seen in these clothes in public, I’ll lose all my credibility. My clients will think I’ve gone mad. The partners at work will question my fitness to represent the firm. Growling deep in my throat, I dig my cellphone out of the pocket of the pants I’m wearing and pull up her phone number.
Daniel: sanaya what the hell did you pack in my yoga bag???
Her response only infuriates me further.
Sanaya: hehehe
Sanaya: told you i wasnt a personal shopper *angel face emoji*
She did this deliberately. That conniving little wench!
I dump the bag out completely and rummage around for something a little less ridiculous to wear. The regular, practical clothes are at the bottom of the bag. They’ve got to be. Right?
Wrong!
Shit! All of the clothes are equally outrageous.
I pull on my hair in frustration just as my phone pings with another text message.
Sanaya: dont forget the head wrap. it really completes the look
Sanaya: and I even got you some sanitizing alcohol wipes. Y’know, for the sticky yoga mats!
I can just imagine her now, tossing her head back and laughing her ass off. As pissed as I am, I’ve got to keep my cool. There’s too much on the line. My marriage hangs in the balance. I strip out of my wet pants and dry off with one of the complimentary towels folded on the shelf near the shower stalls. I try drying off my wet clothes with the hand dryer for a few minutes but it’s pointless. And it’s making me late. Eventually, I step into my ridiculous outfit and check myself out in the mirror.
I take a deep breath and tighten the drawstring at the waist.
My street cred just lost about 5000 points.
Oh, Sanaya, you think you’re a little prankster, huh?
She’s going to regret this. I’ll make sure of it. Come Monday, she’ll be barricaded in that copy room making photocopies until she’s high off of printer fumes and ink toner.
I swallow down my pride and hold my head high like a man who’s got his shit together. I stride confidently down the hallway toward the yoga room with my mat rolled up under my arm.
My secretary continues to mock me with a barrage of taunting text messages, feigning innocence in each one. I’ll admit it – I’ve got a faint smile on my lips because it was a good prank.
I’m self-aware enough to know that I’m too uptight. Always walking around in those constricting business suits. I do need to let loose. This isn’t exactly how I would go about doing that if I’d had to plan it myself, but hey – it’s not the end of the world. And the expression on Grace’s face when she sees me will be worth it.
I shove my damp hair out of my face and stroll into the room like I own it. Like a real man.
I feel the weight of everyone’s stares on me as they appraise my get-up with questioning eyes but I ignore that. I don’t care what anyone thinks. I’m here to save my marriage and that’s all that matters.
Pushing my phone into my pocket, I lock my eyes on Grace’s. She looks absolutely horrified. I smirk at her.
“Hey babe,” I say as I proudly take my place right next to her.
She leans into me with wide eyes. “You look like Aladdin!” she whisper-yells.
“Anything to get you back on this magic carpet for good!” I toss her a wink and, with a flourish, I unfurl my yoga mat beside hers.
Is that a unicorn motif on my mat? Fucking Sanaya!
When I turn my attention to Isla, she gets into position at the front of the room.
I’m here to get my girl back. As if I’d let a little wardrobe glitch hold me back!
I love her in an epic way. So, this will either be an epic win or an epic fail. But either way, I’m not going out quietly.