Townhouse Confidential

Chapter 9

Oblivious to her family’s financial problems, Lydia was at the gym pounding away on the elliptical trainer, toning her big, beautiful butt. Though math hadn’t been Lydia’s best subject in high school, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that, with an ass like hers, she could make more money shaking her booty on the treadmill than she could by working an office job. So, instead of hitting the books, Lydia dropped out of NYU after one semester and hit the gym. Before long, she was making $250 a day as a personal trainer and pocketing extra cash selling gym memberships on the side. Throw in the free drinks and dinners that her clients were willing to spring for and she was pocketing well over $50,000 a year.

Now 23, Lydia had been honing her skills for almost five years and had a book of business to prove it. She knew her target market like the back of her hand – middle-aged, married, out of shape, horny and desperate to get back in the game. Her prey was easy to spot: An overweight Wall Streeter sweating like a pig trying to bench-press 200 pounds.

“Looking good, Mr. Kaminsky,” Lydia said, playfully patting the balding Jewish lawyer on his flabby ass as she upped the speed on his treadmill.

She walked over to greet her new client, a thin twentysomething guy in a Brooklyn Industries T-shirt who looked like he hadn’t seen the sun in months. Not my typical client, she thought, but, for $150 an hour, I’m sure I could whip his skinny butt into shape.

“Hi! I’m Lydia Perry, your personal trainer,” she said, extending her hand.

Her client’s grip was surprisingly firm. “Jim Bedford,” he said.

“So what brings you to the gym, Jim?” Lydia asked, sitting down on the couch across from him and tucking her tanned legs underneath her well-toned behind.

“Well,” Jim said. “It wasn’t my idea to come here. Usually, the only thing I exercise is my fingers.”

“That’s typical of most guys,” Lydia said with a smile.

Jim blushed. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said. “I’m a software developer, and I spend most of my time writing code, banging away on a keyboard.”

“So you enjoy banging, too?” Lydia said, scribbling something on her clipboard.

“Hold on! That didn’t come out right, either,” Jim said. “Anyway, I’m the CEO of this social networking company in Williamsburg and I’m going on a roadshow next month to raise money from investors. My VC thought it would be a good idea for me to get in shape before I collapsed in an airport and died.”

All of a sudden, Lydia snapped to attention. Internet company? Roadshow? Several years ago, she had worked with a client who owned a dot com and had given her some shares that turned out to be worth money. This nerd might hit it rich, too. All of a sudden, she was interested.

“What does your company do?” she asked him.

“Well,” Jim said, sheepishly. “We’ve developed an app called ChickStalkers, and it lets guys rate other guys’ ex-girlfriends by swiping left or right on their phones. Kind of like Tinder for pervs.”

“Cool!” Lydia said. “I’ll have to check it out. In the meantime, why don’t you hop on this exercise bike so I can check you out and see what kind of shape you’re in?”

For almost an hour, Lydia put Jim through the paces, increasing the speed on the bike until he was gasping for breath. Then she worked his muscles on the machines and tested his range of motion and flexibility. For somebody who looked like a total geek, Jim was actually pretty strong.

“I’m impressed,” Lydia said. “Did you play sports in college?”

“I played lacrosse at NYU, but we were only Division III,” Jim said. “To be honest, I spent most of time warming the bench.”

“And writing code, I suspect,” she said with a smile.

“Yeah, one of my teammates got dumped by this girl with big tits and he dared me to write a program that ranked all the girls at NYU by cup size,” he said. “That’s where I got the idea for ChickStalkers. Kind of like Facebook but a little more porno. Let me know what you think when you check it out! I’d love to get a woman’s point of view. Our developers are just a bunch of horny guys.”

Wow, Lydia thought to herself. Finally, a guy who’s interested in more than just my booty. This could be the opportunity I’ve been waiting for.

“I will check out your site, Jim Bedford,” she said, “and I’ll see you here next week at the gym.”