“Keep talking to me. This is just a warm-up, and if you can’t talk, then it’s too much.”

“I can talk.” The sun was just starting to peek over the water. It made her smile. This entire experience made her smile-she was awake to see the sun come up. She was moving, sweating, breathing, meeting a challenge. She felt alive.

She turned and saw Theo scrutinizing her. “Thank you, Theo,” she said, knowing she was beaming at him.

“For what? The pie thing? Don’t thank me-just don’t do it again.”

She laughed. “Not that, exactly.”

Theo shook his head almost imperceptibly. “Then what?”

“For being so cool about everything. For being good at what you do. I’m lucky to have you as my trainer.”

Slowly, Theo’s grin began to fade, and Lucy watched him struggle to keep it in place. He shrugged off the compliment. “It’s just my job.”

Right. Lucy turned back to the windows and laughed out loud at herself for being flattered by his attention. Theo was looking at a huge payoff if he could get her to lose all the weight, and at this point it looked like she’d make it way before the year was through. That charm was professional courtesy. That smile was capitalism at work. She bet those cornflower blue eyes shone like that for all his paying clients. Of course it was his job. She was just a job. Nothing more.

Lucy told herself to remember that.

February

Journal Entry Feb 6

Breakfast: 1/2 whole wheat bagel; 1 tbsp natural peanut butter; 1/2 grapefruit; decaf with splash of skim milk

Lunch: 2 cups romaine and raw vegetables; 4 oz turkey breast; 1 oz light cheddar; 1 tbsp olive oil; red wine vinegar; 1/2 c brown rice

Dinner: 1 small baked sweet potato; 3 oz broiled chicken breast; 1 c steamed pea pods and mushrooms

Snack: 1 c plain yogurt; one apple; cinnamon

Affirmation for Today:

I’m sure that somewhere in the world there is a boss

more psycho than mine. I just haven’t met him yet.

Stephan Sherrod burst into the conference room without warning. “Greetings, employees!” He settled into an armchair, his long legs stretched in front of him. “I take it we’re flexing our creative pecs and abs in here this morning?”

Stephan chortled at his own pun and waited for someone-anyone on his staff-to join in appreciation of his wit. Lucy didn’t volunteer, but her assistant, Veronica King, managed a vague giggle. “We’re reviewing the Palm Club account,” Lucy said, handing Stephan the month’s media summary,

“Marvelous. Don’t let me stop you.”

Now that was truly funny. Everyone in this conference room knew that Stephan Sherrod could single-handedly suck the lifeblood out of anything-and did so as a matter of course. Meetings. Client outings. Parties. And, since his partner, Sarah Thorns, died eight months ago, Stephan had been doing it to his own company. Sherrod amp; Thorns had been steadily losing loyal clients, and it was a battle to find new ones. The company lost its heart and soul when it lost Sarah.

Lucy looked around the conference room and noted that Stephan had managed to ruin her team meeting as well. Moments ago, they’d been reviewing everything from graphic design to Web site development for the Palm Club account and the room had been filled with creative energy, good humor, friendly competition, and teasing. Now, there was nothing but discomfort.

Barry Neikirk stared at the ceiling. Maria Banderas clicked away at her laptop in silence. Veronica nervously snapped her gum and doodled on her agenda.

Lucy had taken the position with Sherrod amp; Thorns last year because of Sarah Thorns. Sarah had been in her midfifties, outgoing and witty, devoted to her clients, and full of life. Her creativity and drive had made this little company a big presence in the Miami-Dade market. It didn’t take Lucy long to figure out that Sarah was the heart and soul of the operation and Stephan was the face man, the schmoozer. It had worked.

But Sarah died during elective surgery about eight months after Lucy moved to Miami. She looked around the conference table now and knew that everyone there-herself included-had stayed with Stephan because the job market was tight, not because they enjoyed working for him.

And in ten months, if she met her weight loss goal, she’d be walking out of this place with a hundred thousand in her pocket and a business plan for her own agency. The thought put a smile on her face.

“So Barry,” Lucy decided to salvage the meeting. “What do you think about capitalizing on the idea that the gym can work around anyone’s schedule?”

“It’s the only way to go, frankly,” he said. “The fact that the Palm Club has personal trainers available from five a.m. to ten p.m. seven days a week really sets them apart. They’re leaving their competition in the dust.” Barry referred to his laptop screen. “Goldstein’s Gym only offers personal training from six to six, five days a week.”

Maria agreed. “The Palm Club’s ability to work around a client’s schedule is really the only way to justify a price point much higher than anywhere else in town, including Goldstein’s.”

“Exactly,” Barry said. “You can’t exactly put a price tag on the South Beach celebrity mojo thing they’ve got going.”

As everyone nodded their agreement, Lucy glanced Stephan’s way. At some point in the last few moments, his expression had shifted from affable vacancy to pasty fear.

“Are you all right, Stephan?”

“Fine. Fine.” He cleared his throat and straightened in the leather chair.

“Well, I loved the slogan ‘Fitness at the Speed of Life,’” Veronica chimed in.

Maria pointed across the table. “That was your idea, wasn’t it, Lucy?”

Lucy still had one eye on her boss. “Yes, it was.”

“I think you hit a bull’s-eye with that,” Barry said.

Stephan stood up.

“Thanks.” She watched her boss shuffle toward the conference room door, his shoulders slumped. “I fiddled around with a few other things, including something a bit more blunt, but that’s the one I like, too.”

Maria smiled. “I’m all for blunt. What was it?”

Lucy studied Stephan’s back. “Oh, just something like, ‘Wanna bet the fat chick can do it?’”

Suddenly Stephan spun around, a glint in his eye. “My God, Lucy! You look like someone stuck a pin in you and you’ve begun to deflate!”

Veronica snapped her gum a little too loudly.

“I’d heard you’d lost a few pounds, but I hadn’t really noticed until now.”

If it weren’t for past experience, Lucy would have assumed she’d misheard Stephan. But as she was now well aware, her boss had no manners.

“Uh. That’s the whole point,” she replied.

Stephan laughed. “Well, we need to take you out to celebrate. Whad’ya say? Lunch for everyone tomorrow at Bugatti? My treat. Anything you want. They have the best pesto ravioli in town.”

And with that pronouncement, he was gone.

Lola DiPaolo looked like she was hitting the tanning bed a bit too hard these days. At this rate she’d have skin like a wrinkled paper bag in another few years, Theo decided. But then, Lola wasn’t known for her long-term approach to anything.

‘Theodore.“ She looked up from her bodybuilding magazine and smiled.

“Lola. How’s life?”

“Fun as always. How’s yours?”

“Busy.” Theo walked over to the wall of mailboxes in the staff lounge, where each trainer had a cubbyhole for mail and phone messages.

He sorted through a stack of messages and found the usual-clients who needed to reschedule, clients who wanted information on the military basic training course, clients who said they needed to stop their workouts because they were going to be out of the country or were moving.