figured that had to be you. I’m Jenna. I own Spark, and I’m engaged to Mercer.”
“So I hear.”
Jenna went in for a shake but Steph kept her hands clasped, letting Jenna see the napkin. “Little mishap.”
“Oh goodness.” Jenna frowned and grabbed a water bottle off her desk, wetting a tissue. “Give it here.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Steph crumpled the napkin and offered her palm.
“Ouch,” Jenna said, dabbing at the scrape. “If this is Mercer’s fault I’ll be chewing him out. Your first day and already you’re all banged up.”
“I had a run-in with one of the contractors.”
Jenna fished in her purse and tore open a Band-Aid. It wouldn’t last long once Steph was gloved and working out, but she politely let Jenna fuss.
“He’s the reason I got this, too,” Steph said, pointing at her nose.
“That was quite a run-in.”
“They were separate incidents.”
Jenna’s eyes widened.
“He’s not a very good contractor,” Steph offered.
“Apparently not.” Jenna tossed the bandage wrapper and leaned on the edge of her desk, waving at a nearby chair. Steph sat.
“It’s so good to meet you,” Jenna said. “Mercer’s been wringing his hands for months, convinced you were going to change your mind.”
Steph smiled. “He told me. But I like it down there.” Dangerous electricians aside.
Another woman appeared then—Rich’s girlfriend, Steph was nearly positive.
“This is Steph, from downstairs,” Jenna said.
“Oh right! Welcome to the building.” She came forward for a shake. “I’m Lindsey. Is your nose okay?”
“Yes, it’s fine. Nice to meet you.”
Lindsey wore slacks and a deep purple sweater over a dress shirt. This seemed to bode well. Both Mercer and Rich had managed to land themselves polished, professional partners, despite their vocations. She stole a quick glance at the engagement ring twinkling on Jenna’s finger, and some hybrid of jealousy and hope sparked in her belly.
“Just here to say hello?” Jenna asked. “We must look really dull compared to the action downstairs.”
Steph shrugged. “Feels like I’ve been living in gyms the past ten years.” She gave the office and its modern furnishings an appreciative scan. “This is exotic, trust me.”
“Rich said you’re from Mass,” Lindsey said, sitting on her desk.
“Worcester.”
“Nice. I’m from Springfield. Jenna’s a California transplant, but even she was technically born here.”
“It’s hard to stay away.” Steph had traveled all over—South America and Europe, Asia and Australia, and until a couple years ago, she’d thought she’d never settle in New England. Then some instinct had kicked in, like a salmon getting called back up the river. “I just moved to Fort Point.” She liked her temporary neighborhood, a collection of old factories and brick office buildings straddling the border of Boston and South Boston, only ten minutes’ walk. Twelve if the icy headwind off the harbor was really blowing.
“You just retired from fighting, right?” Lindsey asked.
“Yup, all done.” Steph seized the segue. “I got sick of all the traveling. I’m ready to get rooted somewhere. Settle down.”
“Nice.”
“Rich said you’re looking for a roommate.”
Lindsey nodded. “I am. I feel stupid paying rent for a two-bedroom when I’m hardly ever there. You in the market?”
“Yeah. Rich said I should come over some weekend, see if it’s a good fit...?”
“Great! Beats wading through the weirdos I might find online.”
Excellent. One bit of matchmaking accomplished. Now, how to broach the second? Thankfully, Jenna wasted no time in steering them there.
“Do you have a boyfriend here?” she asked, eyes wide and eager.
“No. But I’d like to find one. Or at least get back into dating, now that I’ll finally be in the same city for more than a couple weeks at a time.”
“Well,” said Lindsey. “We can help with that.”
But Jenna’s smile had faltered. She didn’t seem to agree.
“I wanted to ask how Spark works. And how much it costs, all that sort of stuff?” Steph held her breath.
Jenna nibbled her lip.
“It’s okay,” Steph said, wanting to offer her a polite out. “If you’re not taking new clients, or...”
“It’s not that. I just honestly don’t know if I’m allowed to let you join.”
Steph’s heart sank. She knew she should have changed. She was probably wrecking Jenna’s swanky cachet by even sitting here.
“Technically you’re my employee, since I own the gym,” Jenna explained.
“Oh.” That was a small relief. Though still a let-down.
“Would you let me join the gym?” Lindsey asked Jenna.
“I hadn’t thought about it like that.” She frowned. “I’ll have to call the head office. But if it’s kosher, of course I’d be happy to have you.”
Steph’s mood brightened. “I wasn’t sure if... I know Spark is for professional types.”
“You’re a professional ass-kicker,” Lindsey said. “Plus Mercer’s your employee,” she added to Jenna. “If we’re talking about inappropriate workplace poaching, here.”
Jenna rolled her eyes and spoke to Steph. “I’ll be frank—I don’t know how our male clients would react to the prospect of a date with a woman who fights. But I think you’d make a very interesting addition, and I’m sure I could find you some matches...if not as many as I might for a woman with a more, um...traditional job.”
“I figured.” Her profession tended to divide guys into a few distinct camps. The insecure jerks liked to call her femininity into doubt. The perverts suggested she might want to wrestle with them, preferably naked and covered in oil. And the polite but not-into-it guys smiled stonily and immediately ceased viewing her as girlfriend material. But one thing had long ago become clear—the majority of men didn’t relish dating a woman who could best them at chin-ups.
“I’ve found it challenging myself,”
