Bmoney34: Tit for tat, remember?
While I waited for his response and enjoyed the last bite of my tasty dinner, I found the email I’d sent Ben the night before. He hadn’t responded to my invitation to watch basketball.
WesTheBear: Okay. Tit for tat. What’s my homework?
Bmoney34: Same assignment. You need more than mustard.
WesTheBear: For you, I will buy ketchup.
16
“YOU’RE IN A good mood,” Mason commented, sliding a stack of printouts across the table in our office. “And I doubt it has anything to do with the way my team has been crushing it in the last month.” He raised his voice when he said “crushing,” and adopted a singsong tone.
He was an ass, but he was good at his job. In the month since Valentine’s Day, we’d run a series of ads featuring our coaches sharing what they learned at different stages of their education and training. It had worked to feature some coaches who were hot, according to Mason’s team, despite my initial protests. Since the previous month, our new registrations were up, and we seemed to be outpacing HottrYou.
Mason lowered his voice as if this were a private, male-bonding moment. “C’mon, don’t hold out on me. You’re finally getting laid, right?”
“Anyway,” Cord interjected, reading my expression. “Tell us what’s next.”
Mason returned to his tablet, speaking as he scrolled. “It would be nice if we had an inside source at HottrYou.”
Cord huffed out a short laugh. “Kelsey didn’t give anything up when you met with her last month, did she?”
“No.” I looked down at the printouts, colorful charts of market share and cost projections. “Not really.”
I saw Mason’s stare out of the corner of my eye. “Want to elaborate?”
“No.”
“C’mon, Wes. I’m trying to do my job here.” Mason’s ever-present smirk shifted to a frustrated grimace. “Nothing at all we could use?”
“It was personal.”
Cord shot me a curious look across the table. I’d been purposefully vague about the meeting with Kelsey. Cord was my best friend, but Kelsey and I shared something different, even after breaking up. She’d grown up like me, with an emotionally abusive mom and her dad in and out of prison. No matter how badly it had ended between us, she’d been there for me back then. We’d darkly called ourselves the fucked-up families club, and it was members only.
“Fine,” Mason said. He walked us through the data, detailing how the initiatives were playing out in different markets. When he advised we change our font colors, I tuned out of the conversation. Cord was following along, and I knew I should care, but I just didn’t. I jotted down some notes on the legal pad in front of me about ideas for working with the kids. We were running a weeklong training program with them at the end of the summer and then paying some of our coaches to mentor. Through Jake and Naya, we had hired a college student she worked with to help us. Quinn was studying education and was eager to join in. It was all coming together, and we were ready to work with the student leaders within the next couple months.
The screen on my phone flashed, and I grinned before dismissing it. I was sure it was B. No one else messaged me on the app now that the other client I’d taken on had decided not to continue with coaching. I’d gotten used to B’s messages, used to that feeling of letting out a breath when I read them.
We’d been chatting a couple times a day for the last few weeks. It always started with exercise or nutrition, healthy habits and new challenges. It always started with coaching like it was supposed to, but I’d glance at the time stamp and realize we’d spent an hour going back and forth. It was too much, and I needed to check whatever this was that drew me to her, but it was hard, because I was genuinely interested in her love of the Bears and her collection of Stephen King novels she reread all the time even though she’d get scared. I wanted to know more about her.
It gave me a weird, full feeling in my chest when she told me about an accomplishment. It made B happy to meet small milestones, and knowing she was proud of herself reminded me I was doing something that mattered. She was always so appreciative.
Glancing up from my phone, I noticed Mason looking at me expectantly. “Yeah, sure,” I answered, not knowing what he’d asked. He kept talking, and I glanced back at my phone, subtly tapping the screen.
Bmoney34: Today, I saw a squirrel.
WesTheBear: Stop the presses.
Bmoney34: I wasn’t done yet! The squirrel was pawing through a container of salad someone dropped.