Chapter Eight - Samantha

I’m coming back to the center from finalizing that deal with the health clinic and decide I need just a few more minutes to myself. The air today is beautiful, so I decide to buy myself a smoothie and walk around the neighborhood for a bit. I rarely take time to myself in the middle of the day, but sometimes I think it’s a thing I ought to do more often.

My staff says I need to relax more, that they can really handle things without me for a few hours, or even a few days. Last year for my birthday, they’d all chipped in to get me a gift certificate to a hotel and luxury spa outside the city. It’s still sitting on my bedroom dresser. I’ve never been good at doing that sort of thing.

It’s a little ironic, I suppose. My whole business is built on helping people take care of themselves, but I never seem to have the time to take care of myself. Maybe with the looming threat of the monster development across the street, taking more time to myself to clear my head is exactly what I need to do.

I buy my smoothie and start my walk, looping down by the water, smiling at the kids splashing each other along the edge. The neighborhood is busy today, and vendors are lining the lake, selling hot dogs and sodas to the people enjoying the weather. I watch for a minute, hoping that the new development hasn’t ruined it all by this time next year.

I walk back up to my street and pause outside the new development. It’s so large and imposing, and I feel small and more than a little powerless standing next to it. I hate that feeling. I like problems I can solve. This one feels nearly insurmountable.

The windows are large and reflective, making the building look even larger. Inside, I can see workers with tools and heavy machinery constructing the mega gym. I could fit my center inside the giant first floor at least three times over. I try to picture it as it will be in a few months, filled with people sweating on treadmills while they yell into their Bluetooths about business mergers.

I’m imagining the clients coming in wearing firmly-pressed blazers and leaving in the kind of designer workout clothes that cost more than a month’s membership at my center. I shake my head. I don’t understand the appeal at all. I’m about to turn to leave and get back to work when I notice a group walk into the room.

It’s led by Lucas.

The same Lucas who keeps showing up all around town is leading the group in an expensive-looking suit. I feel my eyes widen, and it dawns on me.

The owner of Invigoration Clubs was named Lucas. I’d seen it briefly while doing research the other day. I hadn’t thought anything of it until now, but all of a sudden, it seems incredibly obvious. Of course, Lucas is the Invigoration owner. Of course. That’s why he’d come to the center with all those questions the other day.

The more I think about it, the angrier I get. I turn and walk back to my center, seething to myself as I do.

Cheryl stops me at the desk.

“Hey, Sam,” Cheryl says, beckoning me over.

“Hey, what’s up?” I ask, still stewing.

“You okay?” Cheryl asks, “You look all wound up.”

“Do you remember that man, Lucas, who was in here the other day, asking me all those questions?” I ask, poking my straw into my smoothie, annoyed.

“The hot one? In the nice blazer?” Cheryl asks. I nod. Something about Cheryl calling Lucas hot annoys me even more.

“He wasn’t here to ask about classes. He was here to check out the competition. He owns Invigoration. I just saw him over there, leading a meeting,” I say, putting the pieces together more and more myself. His weird questions. The way he’s been there every time I turn around. He’s been spying on me. Gathering intel. Probably trying to figure out how to run me out of business. I would have at least thought somebody as rich as him could pay someone to do that for him, I think bitterly.

“I knew I didn’t like him,” Cheryl says, scowling.

I’m furious. I can’t believe the new neighbor is this much of an ass. “I’m not a huge fan either,” I say. “I’ve got to go look over some stuff in the office. Well, at least we know now.”

“Want me to tell him to leave if he comes back?” Cheryl asks. I shake my head.

“No. I think we’re going to have to get used to him. We can’t figure out how to beat him if we don’t do anything about him,” I say, heading back towards my office.

I should spend the afternoon pulling information for my landlord meeting. I want to scan in all my financial records, along with testimonials from the people who come here, about how important the center is. I’m hoping that if I make a good presentation and really sell it, he’ll back away from the rent increase.

I don’t get started on that right away, though. Instead, I type Lucas’ name into a search engine and spend an hour or so reading up on him online. A lot of it is the information I’d seen before, about how much money the gyms make, about his philosophy of fitness, about his staff of personal trainers. There’s also information about his college running career and a lot of photos from various events at the two gym locations. He’s annoyingly handsome in all the photographs. There’s not a lot of personal information, though. It seems to be a pretty intentionally-curated business image. Any private and personal accounts or information are probably locked down.

I shake my head, looking at pictures of Lucas with his team of overly-buff personal trainers. I know it’s not fair of me, but I can’t help but feel like they all look like huge jerks. I imagine them all as overly-confident, convinced of their own attractiveness, feeling invincible and untouchable because of how much they can bench press.

I’ve been trying to be optimistic in the face of the new redevelopment. Changes happen. Neighborhoods undergo transitions. It’s natural. I’d just been hoping to ride the wave and land on the other side with my business still intact. After all, people are always going to need a place to exercise, right? I’d even thought maybe it would all work out, new people mixing with the clients who have been coming for years, creating a whole new community.

Now, staring at Lucas’s face on my screen in an image where he and his team are celebrating a membership milestone I can’t even fathom, I feel discouraged and low. The new people aren’t going to come here. They’re going to go across the street. To work out on state-of-the-art machines. They aren’t going to want to come to classes. They’re going to want personal trainers. The neighborhood isn’t going to come together. It’s going to be divided.

I know I shouldn’t think like that. I have to stay positive – for myself, for my staff, and for my clients. I have to stay strong and positive so I can make this presentation for my landlord and keep the center going.

Right now, though, right at this moment, it feels hopeless. So, I take ten minutes, I lock my office door, and I let myself cry.