Mason made me twitchy. That, and I was drowning in all the work that used to be a welcome distraction. I glanced at my phone, where my text message remained unanswered. Plus, it’s February.
“Pearl doesn’t like him,” I added, noticing the way Cord’s expression sharpened at her name. To say Cord had a crush on Pearl was the understatement of the decade. When he talked about her, he’d get that look in his eye, like when he worked through a coding problem. I thought Mason’s bugging her would push his buttons, but he relaxed his shoulders. “He dated her sister, Shea, and it didn’t end well.”
“Do we need to kill him?”
Cord chuckled. “If Shea is anything like Pearl, I’m sure Mason did not walk away from that unscathed. Pearl is just protective of her sister.” Cord looked down at his phone, probably to avoid me asking him when the two of them had gotten so chummy.
“Sorry about that,” Mason announced as he reentered the room, clapping his hands together and taking his seat. “Good news. A friend over in marketing at Best Life gave me a heads-up they want to do a feature, following one of their staff through the FitMi program.”
Best Life was trendy, but I’d never seen them hawking unsafe diets or unhealthy messages—and while FitMi was doing well, that kind of exposure could launch us into the stratosphere.
“She said they’ll have someone sign up and try out a coach. I’m thinking we find out who it is and make sure they get the VIP treatment.”
“Back up. How do you know her?” Cord had pulled out his tablet and was, no doubt, searching for Best Life.
“Natalie and I . . . go way back.” Mason’s smirk made his meaning easy to decode, but he explained anyway because he was a douche. “We fooled around years ago, but she’s cool.”
“She’s the one who’ll be trying out the app?” The future of our company would teeter on some woman Mason screwed and likely screwed over.
“Nah, some big girl she works with. Natalie is already hot. This tight little body and the nicest—”
“We get it,” Cord said curtly. “And don’t talk about women like that here. When is she joining?”
Mason waved a hand dismissively. “Soon. Brock’s our highest-rated coach, right? We just did that social media campaign with him. Let’s pair them.” Mason glanced at his phone again.
His suggestion rubbed me the wrong way. “Let’s assign her using the matching algorithm, like everyone else.”
Mason tapped at something on his screen while he spoke, avoiding eye contact. “Why not give them our best?”
“I don’t want them promoting us if they don’t get a real experience.”
“Let me talk to Natalie and see what they want. I’ll email you.” Without another word to us, he was on his phone again. His voice filled the room as his call connected before the door closed. “Hey, Nat. Few questions for you . . .”
Cord took another drink. “Well. That could be good.”
I glanced out the window, but streaks of rain completely obscured the view. “Yeah. I guess.”
“What’s up with you? You’re way more out of sorts about him than normal.”
I shrugged. “Just lots going on. This management stuff was always supposed to be Kelsey’s role.”
“Well, she’s not here, and it’s on us, but you can still coach,” Cord replied in the why-didn’t-you-already-figure-this-out tone he often adopted with me. “Take on a client or two. It’s the part you enjoy, anyway. Then you’ll stop whining.” He smirked, and I flipped him off.
Kelsey was the only one of us with knowledge on how to actually run the business. It had been a complete surprise when she abandoned us and ended her six-year relationship with me at the same time.
“Kels isn’t coming back, man. She’s beyond moved on.” He rapped his knuckles on the conference table. “Might as well accept it.”
“I’m not waiting for Kelsey to come back,” I protested, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m just . . .” Frustrated. Bored. Angry. The unanswered text mocked me. “Tired.”
“Do what you want, man.” He pointed to the manila folder in front of me. “Did Pearl remind you about the résumés?”
“Of course I did.” Pearl stood in the doorway.
Cord whipped around, straightened out of his slouch, and gave an awkward smile.
“Hi, Cord. Glad you made it.” She shifted her gaze to me, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cord’s dopey grin unchanged as he listened to her. “Wes, one of the coaching supervisors is on the phone; she says it’s urgent.”