Hot Chips and Sand
Copyright © 2013 Mary Hughes
All rights reserved
Vickie
reached back into the attic of her memory for the year of ballet she took to
overcome a young girl’s coltish awkwardness. ‘I’ll show him what stretching can do,’ she
thought with a trace of malice. She moved quickly through the first series of
exercises she learned so long ago and stole a glance at Cliff.
She
fumed. ‘Not that I’m
here to impress him. Certainly not.’ She began the second set of
exercises, heel set on the barre. She
stretched, feeling tendons pop.
Still
nothing.
He might at least appreciate
the effort.’ Phooey. She switched legs,
sneaking another peek at Cliff. ‘IsWas he
really that rapt over selecting the weight for the bench press? Or iswas
he pretending that he’s
nothe wasn’t looking?’ A trickle of sweat (—I sweat, he perspires. I thought I was a
lady. Phoo!) Phooey!—down
her spine told her she was warmed up enough to tackle the gym. machines.
Cliff
looked up, for all the world as if just noticing her presence. “Ready to go to
it?”
“Yup.
I’ll hit the stair machine next, then do a short
round of weights.”
“That
sounds like a good combination,” he said
Cliff. . “Mind if I tag along?”
“Not
at all, if.” And then the (*imp of her
redheaded grandma*) [MH1] made her add “If you think you can
stand the pace.”
They
mounted the machines and waited for the computers to reset. “I thought you
weighed one‑twelve,” Cliff remarked as Vickie entered a one‑one‑six onto the
flat keypad of the stair machine.
“Who
asked you to peek?” she said with a touch more acid. “Besides,“It’s the last two
days. I’ve been working my tail off for you; who has time to diet
with Overseer Cliff around?”
“Have
you really been working that tail off?” he said with an air of innocence.
Vickie could almost see him mentally putting on a (tarnished) halo.
“Never
mind my tail. Let’s get going.” Exasperation mingled with a tingly realization
that Cliff had almost certainly been watching her warm‑up.
The
stair machines beeped almost simultaneously and they began the treading on the
pedals that, quickly becamegaining[MH2] a steady rhythm. Vickie looked over to Cliff’s read‑out
and saw that he had picked the Herculean heavy‑training level routine. ‘“Macho
creep,’,” she
muttered to herself. ‘“I’ll
show this bucket of testosterone how it’s done!’!” Vickie re‑entered her training routine to
match Cliff’s.
“Hey,
watch it,”.” Cliff warned.
frowned at her readout. “Let’s not
overdo this, either. Nobody profits if you get injured.”
“This?
This is my normal, take‑it‑easy workout pace,” she replied, curling her lip.
She took
quick inventory of her body. Knees beginning to complain. Breath becoming
shorter. Thighs tightening up. She told her body to relax and buckle in, and
summoned all her Irish stubbornness. Her breath began coming harder, gulping
oxygen in response to demands made on her legs. Beside her, Cliff was soundingpurring[MH3] like a Porsche in its element.
“Tired,
yet?” panted Cliff.
“Not
a…bit of it,” she gasped out.
Cliff’s
muscles writhed as he hunched his shoulders like a huge bear. He put his head
down between his shoulders and began charging like a linebacker, pushing the
stair machine beyond its programming. Vickie put her face up, straining to
match and exceed his pace. Her legs felt on fire and her arms felt like lead
from gripping the rails.
Cliff
stopped, panting hoarsely. The pedals slowly sank to the floor as he tottered
to the bench nearby. He sat with his head down, gulping great quantities of air.
Vickie stopped, too, riding the pedals down. Suddenly, she felt very wobbly. ,
then stepped off—and wobbled. She grabbed the machine’s
rail to get her balance, then walked tentatively to the bench and
plopped down beside Cliff, mopping at her brow and feebly brushing her hair back out
of her face.
“Well,
that was certainly fun,” Cliff
said after he could breathe a little more normally.
“Exhilarating.
Wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” Vickie replied.
“Well.”
Vickie
sat on the bench next to Cliff and couldn’t think of a word to say. It was
frustrating, really. One minute she wanted to kiss him and the next she wanted
to beatcompete with
him. Ron had never affected her this way.
Oh,
sure, Ron had been fun, when things were going well. She hadShe’d enjoyed
going to movies with him, and out to bars, and the usual things you did on
dates.
But
Cliff, well, from the very beginning Cliff was
different. Vickie smiled to her self. herself. Yes,
Cliff was very different. She enjoyed just being with Cliff, whether they were
talking shop, or competing, or…other things.
Vickie
sighed. If only she could be the model corporate lover. If only she didn’t really
care.
She
smiled and nodded.
“How
about I drive you home?”
Vickie
watched him go over and pick up his workout bag, Had she imagineimagined
the disappointment in his voice?
He
walked her all the way out to her car. He hadn’tHe’d never
done thisit before,
and Vickie eyed atgave him strangely.
questioning look. He caught
the glance. grimaced. “I just want to make sure
you get off okay.”
“I’ll
be fine, Cliff.”
“I
know.” He paused. “Do you want me to follow you home?”
She looked
at him carefully. The frowned.
Was he suggesting…? But his head was angled such that the parking
lot lights flooded the area, castingcast
a shadow over his face. She couldn’t be certain. Professional was the
best bet. “No thanks,.
I’m sure I’ll be okay. See you tomorrow.”
“Right.
See you tomorrowTomorrow,
then.” He was still standing there when she pulled out onto the street.
The
two men sat companionably in the restaurant’s private room. One grinned at the
other and asked, “Have you told her yet?”
The
other scowled. “No.”
Apparently
that was all he wanted to say, but the first one knew how to pry. “Well, I can
see why. She scares the crap out of me, too.”
The
other man shook his head. “I’m just not sure how she’ll take it.”
The
first man was suddenly sober. “Why is“Is
it so important?”
Then
he sagged. “But I don’t know why.”
The
first man sat back in his chair, smiling and nodding mentally. .
He knew why.
[MH1]This
popped into my head as I was editing. But it's a good idea! Vickie has a redhead's
temper, which is a bit of a stereotype. If you can make any important aspect of
a character more concrete, it's good. Giving Vickie a grandma or aunt who
is/was a redhead and whom Vickie admired, would go a long way to make Vickie's
own temperment clearer. I need to think about this more but I may go back and
weave that element in.
[MH2]Again,
stronger verb gives clearer picture.
[MH3]Sounded,
looked, felt--all these are OPPORTUNITIES to come up with a better, more
descriptive word. Purring is a bit overdone but I think in this case it's
better than sounding.
[MH4]One
of the things I had to work hard on especially at the start was skipping steps.
Cliff stood. Vickie gasped. In my head, the reason she's gasping is because
he's flexing muscles like crazy and his lips are kissable and...you get the
picture. But in the original--he stood, she gasped--the reader really didn't
get the picture.
Don't get me wrong. Sometimes steps can be skipped, and
are actually even more exiting when left to the reader's imagination. There's a
zing when I read and my brain synapses leap the gap. But here isn't one of
them.
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