The only thing I could think about was Brie.
I grunted, lowering the ten-pound weight with my legs. Ten pounds was nothing, babies could lift ten pounds, and yet the muscles in my legs were screaming with every rep.
“Come on, Lincoln. You can do this,” Tracey said.
I growled at her, drenched in sweat. Down and up, down and up. Pain and more pain.
I wanted to give up. I wanted to stop. But I wanted to jump again more than I cared about the pain and the suffering.
“Five more and you’re done. Give it to me, Lincoln.”
I concealed my grin. I’d give it to her, all right.
Down and up. Down and up. I grunted, hands clenched on the bench, body covered in sweat. I could practically feel the crew tightening up on my face, getting every ounce of sweat in super detail. Jess was probably imagining the inspirational music she’d play over the scene as I busted out the last three reps.
“There you go!” Tracey said as I let the weights drop onto the ground, panting.
“Fuck, that shouldn’t be so hard,” I said.
She laughed. “Actually, you shouldn’t be lifting these at all. You’re way ahead of schedule.”
“What can I say? I do nothing half assed.”
“There you go. Full ass everything, always.”
I laughed and grinned at her. Even though she was basically my full-time torturer, Tracey was pretty cool. And I had recently found out that she was gay, which meant I didn’t have to worry about her secretly pining for me or some shit. Maybe that was really conceited, but I’d had too many cool girl friends end up in my bed over the years and too few of those friends left. I didn’t need to alienate my physical therapist too.
Then again, it would probably make for some awesome footage for Jess.
“Cut. That’s good for now.” I looked up as the crew started switching off the equipment and Jess walked over to Tracey and me.
“Done early?” I asked.
“Taking a break. Cliff wants to talk to you.”
I had expected to hear from him a little sooner, but I knew I couldn’t avoid at least one conversation with Brie’s dad.
“Who’s Cliff?” Tracey asked.
“Man of the house,” I said.
“And my boss,” Jess added. “Also something of a hippie.”
I laughed. “He’s an L.A. hippie, which basically doesn’t count.”
“Hippie with a huge bank account,” Jess said.
“Isn’t that a yuppie?” Tracey asked.
I shook my head. “Different thing.”
“Anyway, good work this morning. I’ll see you later.”
It was like being back in high school playing football again: two a day every day. “See you then, coach.”
She laughed and walked off to get changed and to do whatever she did with her off time. I looked back over at Jess.
“When’s he want me?”
“Now, I think. He’s out by the pool.”
I sighed. No rest for the wicked. I stood up with some effort and shrugged off Jess’s attempt to help me. She handed me my cane and I began the trek outside, a towel wrapped around my shoulders.
“Have a good break, guys,” I said to the crew. Despite the fact that they shoved cameras in my face all day every day, they were decent people.
I gimped my way out through the kitchen, taking my time. Part of me hoped Cliff would get sick of waiting and head out to do whatever he did with his ample time and money, but I wasn’t so lucky. He was sitting out by the pool, dressed in his usual khaki pants and green collared shirt. He waved as I approached, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses.
“Lincoln Carter, how the hell are you?”
I made a face. “Walking, more or less.”
“That’s really, really good to see. Last time I was home, you were still in the wheelchair.”
Cliff hadn’t exactly been around much during my stay, even though he was supposedly watching over me during my probation. Still, I didn’t give a shit what he did, so long as he kept calling my case officer and didn’t fuck over my mom.
“PT’s going good. I like Tracey.”
“I’m really glad to hear that. She came highly recommended.”
I struggled to sit in the chair next to him. As much as I hated it, I couldn’t help but let the pain show on my face as I stretched my legs out in front of me, working the kinks out of the muscles.
“She deserves a raise.”
“Maybe she does.” He looked at me for a second. “How’s the shoot?”
“Ask Jess. She doesn’t show me the footage.”
“I’ve talked with her and seen some stuff, but I wanted to get your perspective. This is your brand and your journey, after all.”