(This story is in two parts, I've often wondered if something is too good to be true, is it always the case. Human nature makes us wonder but sometimes when it stares you in the face, you do have to ask yourself, maybe... Just maybe.)
My very special thanks go to LSEiland, for her editing of both these chapters.
*****
Being asked to step into my boss' office one sunny Monday morning and fed enough bull to make me want to throw up about how this company couldn't do without my talents... blah, blah, blah... did not start my week off all too well. I had zoned out and waited for the punch line. Not even I saw this one coming down the tracks- I was given one of those good news, bad news talks by my then boss.
The good news was I was being promoted to become one of the youngest department heads in the company. The bad news was the job promotion meant I had to up sticks and move to a new state. It seems our company was opening a new office in Houston and you can guess who they wanted to run the IT side.
I think what made my boss stall was how quickly he got me to agree. Hell, why not. My last relationship had recently cratered with most of our friends taking her side. When Jasmine decided to pull the plug on our relationship, she did a fine job of pulling up the drawbridge on the way out. For some reason she thought I would drop to my knees and beg her to stay.
When I didn't go crawling to her, she got pissed about it. This wasn't fitting her plans to leave me a broken wreck. Yes, Jasmine was a real piece of work and the false accusations and out and out lies that followed made me wonder who this woman really was. The accusations ranged from taking her ass while she was asleep to feeding drain cleaner to the neighbor's children.
All my time was spent countering her accusations that in the end, I just didn't have it in me to fight her anymore. At least we never made it past the engaged stage. Lord knows what I would have been worth when she finished divorcing me.
So for the last three months, all I seemed to be doing was drifting. A change was what I needed and if this company was going to pick up the bill for the move, and throw a promotion into the mix as well... Hell, why not.
Although I would never admit it to upstairs, it was one of my smarter moves. The team I found when I got here was a good bunch and reaffirmed to me that geeks make good computer people. We were actually working sixty hour weeks for the first two weeks- until I pulled everyone aside and reminded them they had a life outside of work.
Tony being the mouth of the group pointed out that I didn't. The room hushed some right about then. Poor Tony shifted on his feet and found the floor real interested just then. What could I do? The guy was right, so I did what this geek needed to do and checked the internet for locations of gyms in my area. Shortly, I found myself sitting with one of those personal trainers who asked what they could do for me.
I did stretch a point and ask if they could make me into an Adonis, but would settle for some exercises that made sure my stomach didn't extend over the waistband of my pants. Well the girl laughed, much to my relief. She let me down gently when she mentioned that the Adonis look may take a while, but she did get me started on the machines that would keep my waistline at bay.
So there you have but a brief glimpse of my life as I huffed and puffed away on one of those pain machines. A man in his late twenties, head of IT in a city I had never been in until my promotion, staring at myself in one of those mirrors they always seem to place strategically around the room.
*******
Karen didn't make any sort of grand entrance, but you sure knew she came into the room. My attention was divided between the machine and Karen, simply because of what went on when she came in. The gym rats just nodded to her and continued to lift the equivalent of a truck engine at each end of a bar. The women looked and smiled, some waved, but everyone -and I do mean everyone- left her alone.
It was clear to me that she was known in this gym, yet not one person went up and talked to her. All I could say to describe Karen was that she was definitely a woman. I wasn't sure about the rest because she wore track bottoms and either a sweatshirt or track top. It was both her face and demeanor that made you look, and if you weren't careful, stare.
She was a brunette with hair that stopped short of the middle of her back. The eyebrows matched, so I figured the brunette in her came natural. There always seemed to be a look about her that made you smile as she passed, yet never initiate a conversation with her. She was never rude and when she did talk to the folks at the gym, they always felt like she had made their day.
One time I passed her and noticed her head height matched mine. She was five foot seven, although she never used her height to intimidate anyone. Her beauty was natural, what she looked like as she came into the gym would be what you saw when she woke next to you in the morning.
If a piece of equipment was already being used and Karen looked like she wanted to be next to use it, invariably the person using the machine would step aside. Not in fear. Karen never gave off that sort of vibe; it was just genuine respect that led to people cutting short their own fitness regime for her. She would always smile and thank the person. You could tell, even from across the room, that there never was any animosity about it.
So that's how my life was for the next three months- work, work, work. Did I mention I worked a lot, the typical no life guy? First one in the building and the last out; even then I didn't go home, instead heading for the gym. Sometimes I would see Karen every day, but then she would disappear for a week or so. Another thing about Karen was the tracksuits; she was never out of them.
She would train in one until the sweat seeped through, but it never came off in the gym. The change came in mid-June. The AC at the gym decided that it didn't want to play anymore. Most folks went home and some of those who stayed lost a couple of pounds in that sauna. Even I was thinking of heading home when Karen walked in.
Her routine was always different; today she had decided to bench press some weights after looking around for one of the gym assistants. When she couldn't find one, she asked one of the knuckle draggers to assist her. I swear that man added an inch in stature that Karen had not only spoke to him, but had asked for his help.
Karen set off with warm up weights but soon got into some impressive stuff. As she was lifting, the arm of her tracksuit got caught on something and ripped. Seeing the danger, he grabbed the bar while Karen slid out from the weights. His stature went up another inch when she thanked him. She then pulled her top off and for the first time, I noticed that Karen had tits and a very impressive set at that. The sports bra held them firm to her body, yet showed them in a glorious light.
It was as she once again lay on the bench that I spotted the bruise on her right side. About the size of my hand and very recent given the color. There were a couple on her arms and a smaller one on her left side. I watched for a while, yet the knuckle dragger didn't seem to notice the damage to this woman's body.
The last few of us left in the gym either didn't notice or care. It was that very moment that Karen Black became an enigma to me that would haunt my thoughts for days. How could a woman with such an aura about her be nothing but a punching bag? Why wasn't anyone in that gym the least concerned that one of their own was being beaten, and judging by the bruises, pretty badly as well.
The words 'it's none of my business' haunted every thought I had about her along with the words 'don't get involved.' Hell, I only knew her name because a couple next to me said it as she walked in with one of the gym assistants one day.
*******