The Universe of Discretion: Training Furst
Yazar
Michael BN
Okur
56,9K
Bölüm
7
Sebastian is hired as a private fitness trainer for Calvin Furst. Working with a very tight deadline, can he get the enigmatic founder of AcuTech in shape before his big event?
Chapter 1
Training Furst
I pulled off my shirt, threw it into the locker, and took a quick look at my abs before covering them with the FitShop navy-blue compression top.
The entire uniform was designed to show off our bodies. Bradley Jones, the owner of the most exclusive gym in the city, wanted his members to be surrounded by the best examples of physical fitness.
I’d worked hard to look the way I did, and Bradley had hired me on the spot after a short interview.
“You’re late again, Sebastian!” Taylor said behind me, scaring the shit out of me.
Bradley wanted his opening staff to be present an hour early to revise the equipment and locker rooms. I’d been late for the last three days, but Taylor never told the boss.
“Dude, are you okay?” he asked, putting a hand on my shoulder.
“I’ve been having trouble sleeping,” I said honestly.
Should I tell him why? Fuck it!
“I broke up with my boyfriend and…it hurts like hell.”
“Your boyfr… Wait, you’re gay?” Taylor asked, looking taken aback but not shocked.
“Bisexual, a four on the Kinsey scale which means I have a preference toward guys,” I said, giving him my standard answer.
I dropped my sweatpants and briefs and pulled on my uniform shorts.
“What a specific reply,” Taylor said, looking impressed. “You caught me off guard, I…”
“Let me guess, I don’t give off a vibe?” I mumbled.
“I was going to say that I didn’t know you were in a relationship. I’m sorry to hear that it ended,” he said carefully.
Wow, okay. I’d clearly gotten defensive a bit too quickly.
“Supposedly, I’m a difficult person to be with. I tried over and over again…but clearly failed.”
I surprised myself by suddenly bursting into tears; they rolled down my cheeks faster than I could wipe them away. What the fuck?! I never cried!
“Hey,” Taylor said, grabbing me into a hug. “It’s okay, let it out.”
His invitation gave way to even more shameless sobbing. I’d apparently been keeping this in for a while.
He patted me on the back gently until I was done and then asked, “Why don’t you ask Bradley for some time off? I’m sure he’ll understand.”
“No! Please, no. I’m staying in a one-bedroom HomeAway in the shitty part of town, and I really don’t want to be there all day.”
“Okay,” he said, hugging me again.
Wow! Who would have known that alpha male Taylor could be like this?
“Thanks,” I said over his shoulder.
“For what?” he asked gently.
“For this,” I whispered.
“Listen,” he said, taking a deep breath. “If you need a place to crash until you sort yourself out, my guest room is available.”
I stared at him to see if he was serious and blinked stupidly a few times.
“Let me think about it,” I muttered.
Fuck! What an ungrateful answer.
“You do that. In the meantime, let’s get upstairs before Bradley kicks our asses.”
***
I wasn’t completely paying attention as my client Mike did his reps. There was a new member on the floor, and he was simply gorgeous. I’d been carefully eye-fucking him for the last ten minutes; luckily, he was too busy with his routine to notice.
“How many more? I think I lost count,” Mike huffed, snapping me out of my reverie.
“Five more, Mike,” I lied.
“You got it, champ,” Mike said with a lopsided smile.
I hated being called that; my father had always used it as a derogation. Ironically, I was never a very sporty kid. I never said anything to Mike, though. He was a client, and I didn’t want to make a fuss over something that would seem petty.
Suddenly, Taylor was behind me again. He quickly whispered in my ear, “Boss wants to see you, I’ll take care of Mike.”
Fuck! Had Bradley noticed that I’d come in late again? Was I going to get fired like Jason?
When I walked into Bradley’s decadent office, I was expecting a castigation. Instead, I was shocked to find Calvin Furst sitting in front of his desk.
What the fuck was the founder of AcuTech doing here?
The man hadn’t been seen in public for months. Why do I know this, you ask? Okay, I admit it, I read the Next-Door blog on the toilet. There’s just something about celebrity gossip that fascinates me. That and my religious need to watch the Oscars!
Anyway, Calvin Furst was a legend. His company's CuffPhone, a phone that could be folded around the wrist, had turned the mobile tech world upside down.
And…I was now shaking his hand.
“Mr. Furst, a pleasure, sir,” I said way too quickly.
“Cal is fine,” he said, pointing at the chair next to him as if it were his office.
“We were just discussing your overall positive attitude and professionalism, Sebastian,” Bradley said with a fake smile.
Really?
“I’m in need of a personal trainer,” Furst said quietly. “I’m preparing for an upcoming event, and I wish to look my best.”
Holy shit! Was he talking about a new product launch? For a second, my mind disappeared into endless possibilities.
“Cal has selected you specifically for the task,” Bradley said with a look that screamed don’t you dare refuse.
“Wow, I’m honored, Mister…Cal.” I was actually stammering this time. Why was Furst making me so nervous?
“You come highly recommended,” Cal said, standing up and buttoning his expensive suit jacket. “I’ll expect you at eight sharp at my place. My PA will forward you the address.”
His place?
“Have a good day, gentlemen,” he said, shaking both our hands. A guy in a black suit, larger than Bruno, was waiting outside for Mr. Furst. The men disappeared into the elevator before either of us could say another word.
“What just happened?” I asked the boss.
“You were chosen to be Calvin Furst’s private trainer for the next month and he’s paying handsomely for the privilege,” Bradley said, his eyes gleaming.
“Really? How much?”
“You already get a paycheck, Sebastian,” Bradley said dismissively.
Wow! Typical Bradley.
My head was spinning as I made my way back to the main floor. I was puzzled by why I’d been chosen out of the twelve personal trainers who worked here. No interview, just a recommendation.
But from whom?
