“A gym for women, yes,” she replied, sounding as sunny as she could. “I’ve been a regular gym-goer for years, and during that time, I’ve noticed a significant gap in the market. Most of the gyms here on the island cater to a certain clientele. I call them the vanity crowd. Those of us who are more interested in fitness than cute workout gear have been forced to travel twenty miles or more out of the way—and make do with facilities that are hardly state-of-the-art.”
Aversano’s phone buzzed. He glanced down at it. His eyes lingered for a few seconds too long before they returned to Jo. “If you ask my wife, those cute workout outfits are the only reason to go to the gym.”
“Did you really ask your wife about the idea?” Jo inquired, her curiosity piqued. She would have thought his wife would make a perfect recruit. A woman married to a condescending prick like Aversano had to have a decade or two of rage to burn off.
Aversano’s head reared back and his chin disappeared as he chuckled. “Tilly and I don’t talk shop.”
“Well, I don’t know Matilda well enough to say if she’d fit into Furious Fitness’s target audience, but according to my market research, there are enough women like me on the island to support a sizable chain of gyms. If you’ll turn to page eight—”
But he didn’t. He sat back instead, leaving his fingers laced together on the desk. “I’m not so sure about the name. Furious Fitness. It sounds angry.”
“Does it?” Her hands began to sweat. She could hear the pounding of her heart in her ears. Say something! she ordered herself. And keep smiling. “Maybe that’s a good thing. There are a lot of angry ladies out there.”
He rejected the idea with a shake of his head. “No, people go to the gym to look more attractive. There’s nothing attractive about a bunch of angry women. What did your husband say when you told him what you were thinking of naming it?”
She felt the smile slip off her face. “My husband is not a female fitness lover. Nor is he an entrepreneur. We have discussed the name, because we’re life partners, but he would be the first to tell you his opinion is irrelevant from a business standpoint.”
“Irrelevant?” Aversano scoffed. “Seems like a lot of his money’s gonna go into this little venture you’re starting.”
The pilot light inside Jo burst into full flame. The heat built beneath her sternum and radiated from her chest all the way down to her toes. Her hands were engulfed in fiery spheres.
“I am my family’s primary breadwinner,” Jo said. “The money is half his, but I was the one who earned it. My husband knows I’m an excellent businessperson and trusts me to make good decisions. Now, please, Mr. Aversano, would you mind if I took you through my business plan for Furious Fitness?”
“No need. I took a peek while you were in the waiting area. Next time you might consider getting an MBA to look at your documents. There are a lot of young guys out there who could help you polish things up.”
The Tiffany pen clenched in her right hand seemed to go limp.
“I have an MBA,” Jo informed him. “From Stern. It’s on my CV.”
Aversano flipped to the page. “So you do,” he said, with one eyebrow raised. Then the eyebrow came down and all that was left on his face was the patronizing smile. “Very impressive.”
“I also have twenty years of hands-on business experience.”
“Running a hotel.” He clearly thought that didn’t count as business experience.
“It was the third-largest hotel in New York City. During my tenure, I brought down costs by twenty-five percent while increasing revenue by twenty. Employee turnover dropped by over sixty percent. And in case none of that sounds relevant, the hotel had a sizable gym and adjoining spa, which turned a healthy profit every year.”