Chapter One
Missy
“Everyone bow your heads, bring your hands together, and thank the Universe for its guidance,” I said, realizing I spoke those words at least six times a day. “Namaste.”
I looked up from my place on the floor and watched as my class slowly raised their heads and smiled, feeling the flexibility, the stress relief, and the comfort in their necks after a really good yoga session. I walked to the front and scheduled several new people in for the longer classes that started next week and waited by the door as the last of my students left for the evening. When they were gone, I pulled the gate down in front of the glass shop doors and locked myself inside. The smell of patchouli incense wafted through the air, and I took in a deep breath, thankful that the day was almost over. I loved my business, but I was the first person to admit that I spent way too much time here.
Ever since I was a little girl I dreamed of being a business owner. As I grew older, I looked into all kinds of different areas of business, except for fitness and nutrition. I grew up right outside of Dayton, Ohio, where there were more fields than people. I always ate healthily, but it wasn’t until after I graduated from college and realized working for the man was not my cup of tea that I figured out how much I was into health and nutrition. My mother and father raised me until I was ten, but three days after my birthday, they both were killed when a tractor trailer slid on the back roads after an ice storm. I still remember that day so clearly in my mind.
After that, I lived with my grandmother, Mary, who was very high spirited, nonconforming, and was quick-witted like me. I guess I should say I was quick-witted like her because she’s who I learned it from. Knowing I needed to get good grades to get a scholarship to pay for college, I set my sights on business and ended up winning an almost full ride to NYU. I was excited to leave small-town life and come to the big city, but soon after graduation, I realized the big city could quickly chew you up and spit you back out. I found myself unemployed and eating ramen from the crate I used as my dining room table. While waiting for the perfect job to show its face, I started watching workout videos, reading nutritional blogs, and doing pretty much anything I could get my hands on. It quickly became more than a hobby, and I ended up getting my personal training license and certification in yoga instruction.
On my twenty-fifth birthday, I got a check in the mail from my grandmother. It was the inheritance my parents had left me, something I didn’t even know existed. The first thing I did was start my own personal training company, which is where I am now, a year later, with ten private clients and regular yoga classes. I guess I just had a knack for it, and people always came back. Zen Fitness was my passion, and I knew I could grow it even bigger than I already had in just one year; it just took perseverance and dedication. My grandmother had been my biggest cheerleader, really for my entire life, but man did she know how to poke me in the wrong spot, which usually involved asking when I was going to start dating.
When everything was cleaned and put away, I walked through the place switching all the lights off before taking the back door up to my apartment. I lived above the studio—I know, shocking—but it came with the lease, so I figured I’d get myself out of Brooklyn and kill two birds with one stone. It had been really taken care of and was way better than the loft I used to have. At least at the new place, the rats didn’t infiltrate my life. I closed and locked the door behind me before throwing my stuff in the closet and washing up so I could prepare dinner. Most nights I really wanted to give in and get takeout, but I really was super health-conscious and had adopted a vegan diet two years ago. So, I came home and dug through my fridge and cooked up a delish plate of brussels sprouts, vegan pakoras, and a chili-lime dipping sauce. It sounded fancy, but it was literally me mixing like a mad scientist until I found the best flavors.
I sat at my breakfast table looking over the numbers from last week, proud that I had increased my sales by 20 percent, but worried knowing the winter was coming. For some reason, people didn’t feel that it was necessary to keep their health up in the winter, and last year when the business was just getting going, winter almost killed me. This year, though, I was going to be ready, and I was going to start preparing way in advance. I sighed as I poked my veggies around the plate, too tired to really even eat. I taught four of the six yoga classes of the day and had four of my private clients come in for workout sessions, which I participated in. I wasn’t the trainer who was going to instruct and sit back watching while I shoved chips in my mouth. If I wanted them to do it, I needed to show them it could be done. I was pretty sure that was the reason I had so many return clients; they actually felt like I cared. In this line of work, that was a rarity.
When I was done eating, I picked up my phone from the counter, having heard it buzz several times but wanting to concentrate on what I was doing. I laughed out loud as I read the messages from my grandmother. She was so hilarious, and I could see the succession of sarcasm.
7:05 pm Hey sweetie call me when you’re done. Miss you!
7:15 pm Hey sweet granddaughter, your grandmother misses you.
7:30 pm Have you been abducted?
7:45 pm No, no, it’s not like I’m 70 years old and facing my death in the coming years. By all means, take your time.
8:00 pm I took you out of the will, your Uncle John gets the unicorn statue. I hope that stings.
I shook my head and scrolled down to the picture of her saved to my contacts. She was wearing giant clown sunglasses and sticking her tongue out at the camera. I pressed the Call button and sat down on the couch, leaning back against the pillows. I chuckled to myself knowing she was going to wait until the last second to actually pick up.
“I’ll call off the FBI,” she said grimly. “I was sure you were someone’s lampshade by now.”
“No, Grandma—remember, I’m the one that turns them into lampshades,” I replied.
“Well, shit. Hide your lamps, the cops are coming,” she replied.
“How are you?” I asked with a serious giggle. “I’m sorry it took so long. I had a late last class, and I needed to eat.”
“Are you still eating the rabbit food?”
“All the time,” I replied, remembering she always gave me a hard time about being a vegan. It wasn’t a surprise since she grew up on a farm where they raised pigs. By the time I lived there, though, the farm was shut down.
“Well, you won’t find you a date eating lettuce and tofu,” she replied. “Unless you’re into the man bun and wolf-beard fad.”
“Good thing I don’t have time for dating,” I stated, rolling my eyes.
“Good thing you are going to never produce me great-grandchildren that will brighten my old life,” she said sarcastically. “But I won’t get back into that—it’s like talking to a tree, and not the ones you are hugging.”
“You are a mess,” I laughed.
“Well, I just wanted to hear your voice and know you are doing okay,” she said sadly. “It’s quiet around here.”
“Come out to the city,” I suggested.
“Yeah, right,” she scoffed. “I could wear a tutu and drink martinis like that show.”
“I could see that,” I laughed. “Though you are more prone to drink the blood of the young.”
“Very true, my dear. It’s how I keep my youthful glow,” she said with a straight voice.
I stayed on the phone with Mary for about an hour talking about everything from the weather to the news headlines she was seeing on her television. I tried to make it a habit of calling her at least once a week if not more. I couldn’t even imagine how hard it was for her to be all alone on that big farm. My uncle lived pretty close, but he worked a lot and had something like seven kids to tend to. It did make me feel good knowing I was the favorite grandchild.
“All right, dear, it’s nearly ten o’clock,” she sighed. “Before you know it, I’ll be staying up all night, breaking into the booze cabinet, and holding wild ragers.”
“Yeah, we all know how a late bedtime is the real gateway drug,” I laughed. “Have sweet dreams. I’ll call you soon.”
“You better,” she growled.
When I hung up the phone, I leaned my head back against the wall and smiled. I really loved that woman. I pulled myself from the couch knowing that before I went to bed I had to finish up the route for the marketing flyer handout tomorrow. The cards had finally arrived from the printer, and I wanted to get them passed out all over the city so I could start booking winter sessions. We were located in the Art District, which wasn’t great to live in but everyone thought was cool to come to. I used that to my advantage when trying to lure clients from across town. There were so many gyms and trainers in this city you could easily get lost in the sea of businesses, and I didn’t want that to happen. At the same time, though, I also knew that there were more than enough flabby bodies in New York to fill all the gyms ten times over, and I was just looking for enough to start hiring other teachers and hopefully expand. I had my eye on this one storefront in Manhattan that would draw in all the upscale clients. However, to do that I would need to kick this place into gear.
My best friend, Eliza, was the only employee I had, and though she only worked part-time, she was a lifesaver. She taught several of the yoga classes and manned the front desk so I wouldn’t miss any calls from new clients. I knew if they didn’t get an answer, they would move on to the next gym and I would be too late. Eliza had volunteered to be the marketing master and take all the flyers to the businesses across the city. She loved exploring New York, even though she had been there forever. She said it made her feel like she was part of something bigger. It just made me feel like I needed to wear a gas mask and carry a machete. Suffice it to say, I was more than happy to hand this duty over to her, but I needed to have a plan for her or she would end up handing the flyers to tourists and donut shops.
When I was done I called it a night, dragging my old—but fit—body into the bedroom and collapsing on the bed. I was too tired to even take a shower and decided I would just do it in the morning. This business thing was hard work, and I laughed to myself thinking maybe skin lamps might be easier to sell.