the elastic cuff on his sweatpants got caught on the edge of the pedal. The still-moving pedals threw him forward, into the trainer's control panel, and he banged his head on the handrail. Hal dropped his phone.
It seemed that every eye in the entire gym was on him as he extricated himself from the damnable machine and bent to pick up his phone. Probably because everyone was staring at him. Hal kept his head high, even as he tripped over his towel and knocked against Rick's machine.
He didn't imagine the sniggers and muffled chortles following him as he made his way to the locker room. His face burned, and he ducked with relief through the quiet doorway. He'd suffered humiliations before at this gym, but never one on such a grand scale.
The phone beeped again, more insistently this time, as he fumbled with his locker. Guys like Rick got called so often that answering a text was second nature to them. Guys like Rick, who had barely two brain cells to rub together, managed to exercise, answer their calls and look great doing it. Hal had advanced business and accounting degrees, and yet he could barely walk and chew gum at the same time. He sighed in despair as his fingers hit the wrong numbers on the phone and he had to redial. Why was he such a huge klutz?
"You've got a date for Wednesday night, honey," Muriel Whitehead told him without preamble. "Seven-thirty, MJ's Coffeehouse in Annville. Casual dress."
"Thanks, Muriel."
He heard her flipping through her appointment book. "This could be a big job, kiddo. A week in the Poconos."
Her unspoken advice, Don't screw this up, vibrated through the phone's tiny earpiece. She knew as well as he did how much he needed this job. Better, actually, since he still had outstanding debt for some of the LoveMatch training classes he'd taken.
"Client's name?" Hal managed to dig through his gym bag and find his notepad and a pen. It even had ink in it.
She told him, along with the physical description and some background information. "She's not exactly looking for Romeo, Hal."
He could have guessed that. "I'll be there."
"Hal?"
"What time is it?"
"It's--" Hal checked his wrist and realized his watch was missing. There was no clock in the locker room either.
"Never mind, honey." Muriel's sigh was huge, even through the tiny speaker. "You're at the gym? Check your bag."
It was right there. "My watch says 11:30."
Another sigh. "Honey, it's 12:17."
Punctuality was one of LoveMatch's requirements in its employees. "Thanks, Muriel."
"Hal, did you ever think that this might not be the career for you?"
He had thought that, many times, but then some job always came through and the resulting paycheck made it all worthwhile. "I need the money."
"I know you do, sweetheart." Muriel made kissy noises into the phone. "Don't forget, and don't be late. And for Heaven's sake, make sure your socks match!"
"I'm not a complete schlub," Hal complained, though reflexively he'd noted her suggestion in the margin of his notepad. Check socks.
"You're a sweet boy," Muriel said, as though that would make him feel better. "And, Hal, this one's a freebie."
He groaned. "Muriel--"
She tutted into the phone. "No complaints! After what happened the last time--"
"All right." She didn't have to say any more. Hal's last date had been a true comedy of errors--without the comedy. He was lucky the client hadn't sought legal action instead of demanding a refund.
Muriel said goodbye, and Hal clicked off the phone. He looked at the name he'd written down. Laila Alster. It was a pretty name, but he had no illusions about the face that went with it. Gorgeous women, as a rule, just didn't contact LoveMatch, and most women who did use the service chose guys who looked like Rick.
Hal took a minute to adjust his watch to the proper time, realizing as he did so that he was going to be late for his Healing Touch class. He let out a strangled curse. Could the day get any worse? Shoving his stuff into gym bag, he left the gym without bothering to shower. He couldn't be late for class. Again.
The gym door opened out into a side alley right next to the LoveMatch offices. Narrow and dim on the best days, today the small street was even more difficult to navigate because of the construction going on at the far end. Grateful he hadn't taken off his sneakers, Hal slung his bag over his shoulder and set off at a sprint