Come to think of it, the only real interaction she’d felt was with Angela, who’d giggled and talked to her like a person, not a child to be chastised for getting into the cookies. Or as something subhuman.
“Discipline takes many forms,” Adrian said, reinforcing her growing perception of him as a coldhearted machine. “Mental, physical, emotional. Any method I choose will fit the infraction and you will accept and learn from it. Do you understand me?”
She hesitated. If she said yes, she’d be giving him permission to do…what? If she refused, what?
“Maybe I’d do better with another trainer after all,” she suggested. She gave him a polite, hopeful smile. “Maybe you could switch with someone else? Man or woman.
Even if they aren’t the best?”
“Trainers are assigned according to a client’s profile.” He glanced at the clipboard in his hand. “Based on your answers on our questionnaire and your actions since you arrived here, you are temperamental and willful. You need me.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
He eyed her from head to foot. She was immediately aware of every ounce of fat, every bulge, every droop of her body. His gaze settled on her face. “Any trainer could 20
Sweet Discipline
work you through the physical part of our program. The mental and emotional part is harder. With your history, you need a firm hand.”
“I’m not a child!”
“True. You’re an adult and it’s going to be harder to retrain yourself.” He paused.
“Your answer?”
She answered his question with one of her own. “How do you know so much about me?”
He paused, making her wonder if he’d answer. At last, he said, “We do our homework.”
For an answer it lacked something and left much more to the imagination. What did they do, spy on her? The thought left a bilious taste in her mouth.
“I’m still waiting.”
“I’m still thinking.” Stay or leave and try another spa, another trainer?
No matter that she’s just counseled herself to stay and get her money’s worth, she could still walk out. Admit defeat. The image of Kendra’s sleek body and smug look flashed through her mind. If Kenny could do it, so could she. After all, this man, this machine, would only be a part of her program. She could put up with whatever he dished out while she focused on the rest of the activities here. “Okay. All right.”
He nodded. “First, you will learn respect. When you are with me, unless I tell you otherwise, you will kneel to me.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re out of your freaking mind!” This was a health spa, not some kinky club. When his expression didn’t change, she knew he was serious. “What’s kneeling got to do with losing weight?”
He blew out a breath. “Norris, I am going to say this only once. Our methods at Sweet Discipline are effective. Any of our clients will vouch for that.” He spoke patiently, as if correcting a fractious child. “Any instruction I give is to help you achieve your goals. You are here to lose weight. You want your life to be more fulfilling, more pleasurable, more successful. Right?” He paused, as if giving her a chance to disagree.
She seethed at his reasonable tone, but couldn’t argue with what he said. She imagined the awe on people’s faces when she returned to work, skinny, sexy and successful. She imagined the impressed looks on her client’s faces when she made a presentation. She imagined surprise changing into desire in Jack Rodriguez’s eyes.
“I have never failed a client. I won’t fail you.”
She didn’t like him but she believed him. After all, a place like this wouldn’t attract any business if the clients weren’t happy with the results. It was the same in her business. If his interpersonal skills ranked a minus ten, she could force herself to put up with them. The methods might be unusual, but all she was interested in was the final product. All she wanted from him was results. She blew out a breath and nodded.
“Very well. No more questions?”
“Not at the moment.”
21
Bonnie Hamre
“I’ll tell you whatever you need to know as we go along. Now, on your knees.” His voice was inflexible.
Slowly, joints creaking, she lowered herself to the floor. “Ouch.”
“Sit back on your haunches.” When she did that, he added, “Now, place your hands palm up on your thighs. No, don’t curl your fingers. Leave them open.”
She flicked a glance up at him.
“You will keep you head lowered, eyes on the floor unless I give you permission to look at me.”
This was too much. “Now, just a minute here—”