"I can't believe you did this," she'd said softly. "This is—this is—just wow."
"You can't tell her," Heath warned. "I know how you two are, and you cannot tell her."
"I won't, I won't," Bunz said with a sigh. "Just know this is, like, the hardest thing ever. We don't keep secrets."
"She's already suspicious about something," Connor chimed in. "When I kept calling the café today she kept answering. Do you guys only have one phone or something?"
"Correct," Bunz said cheerfully. "It was actually pretty funny to watch her get so worked up over all these 'prank calls' she thought she was getting."
"Man, I thought she was going to recognize my voice," Connor said. "Glad you took the phone when you did."
"Me too," Bunz said. She twirled in a circle, her arms out. "I just can't believe you did this!"
Heath rubbed the back of his neck, feeling embarrassed. He wanted Bunz to be in on the surprise since she was Drew's best friend and confidante, and knew just how much this would mean to her. He wasn't sure how he'd reveal it all to Drew but he knew he wanted her family to be involved. He also wanted Bunz's input on the studio—what color the walls should be painted, if she knew what Drew had planned to call her business, what the sign should look like. Bunz didn't have all the information he wanted to know but she promised she'd be able to get it in a casual way that wouldn't arouse Drew's suspicions. Connor had snorted at that.
"Good luck," he'd said wryly.
Late Wednesday night, when he'd finally gotten back to his apartment, he'd gotten a call from his lawyer. He'd been slightly tempted to not answer it, as all he wanted to do was crawl into bed, but he knew realistically he couldn't afford to do that.
"Well," his lawyer had said, and Heath realized the man was simply exhausted by the way he said that one word. "Let's see. It's eleven o'clock-and-change at night. We started at five o'clock on Tuesday. So it only took…..fifty-four hours of negotiation, minus breaks for meals, of course. The few we had."
Heath had waited patiently, drumming his fingers on his hip. He wasn't going to be moved by his lawyer's pitiful attempt at martyrdom; he was getting paid, and handsomely, after all.
The man had sighed in annoyance when Heath didn't take the bait. "Calm yourself, Mr. Riley. Please stop interrupting me. I'm getting to the point, I promise. Congratulations. You are now officially the proud owner of the property formerly known as Carter's Gym."
Heath had allowed one very rare, full-mouthed, genuinely happy grin to spread across his face, before biting it away and clearing his throat.
"Great news, man. Thank you for your hard work. I'll be down to sign the paperwork first thing in the morning."
"And then I'm going on an extended weekend vacation to Atlantic City," his lawyer had replied grumpily. "On your dime, of course."
"If by 'my dime' you mean the check I'll be bringing you for payment of services rendered, then yes," Heath had said calmly. "Otherwise, you can shove it up your ass."
"Pleasure doing business, sir," his attorney said. "See you in the morning."
Heath had hung up the phone and grinned again, shaking his head. He yawned deeply and fell into bed, groaning as the tension of the past couple days seemed to settle itself in his back. As sleep had flowed thickly up his body, clouding his brain, he realized he hadn't spoken to Drew at all that day. It hadn't been intentional at all—he'd just been so wrapped up in everything he'd had going on that he hadn't realized he hadn't heard from her like he normally did at some point throughout the day. He had barely had time to stop for the only meal he'd halfway eaten that day. He had groaned inwardly, too tired to move, and hoped she would understand and that she wasn't too upset with him. Her angry face was the last thing he pictured before sleep had finally claimed him.
Now, as he strode down the sidewalk leading to the studio space that day, after spending the morning at his lawyer's office to sign all of the paperwork, he still felt exhausted, but he felt really pleased with how things were coming together. After visiting his lawyer, he'd drafted an email to all of the clients at the gym to let them know there was going to be a change in ownership. The gym would be closed for the rest of the week and over the weekend, and would reopen that following Monday. Anyone wishing to cancel their membership had only to contact him, and the contract would be terminated. Otherwise, clients were welcome to resume their normal routines beginning Monday as there would be no changes to the facility other than the name outside the building.