Trained (Completed)

Chapter 1: Train

The air's stagnant as she runs a calm finger across the cool distillation. Eyeing the liquid while it puddles onto the wooden coffee table. As a mother, she should be more prepared, owning coasters to set glasses on so the wood doesn't stain. What she is about to do is far from motherly, so why start now?

The door pops open and the one she's been waiting for finally arrives. Though he's not the one..that one left a long time ago. There he stands, broad and male, exactly what she needs. Young, healthy, alive and chipper. Maybe not so chipper. He's full. Full of life to live. The features on his face scream harsh trials. The man has seen enough, she's sure of that, but hasn't everyone?

Brooding with beauty and ruggedness, the man stands before her. No sign of insecurities. Confident as the wind, blowing everything out of his way. Yes, this is exactly what I need, she thinks to herself. "Please, Mr. Kline, sit." Stalking over, he does as offered before her, on the leather chair, fit for a king. Eyeing the mystery man, he checks off almost all her boxes. Fit. Big. Hot. But is he right? "Would you care for some water?"

His yellow eyes sharpen at the sound of her voice. "Please." The one word rasps out from his throat as if it climbed up itself, drenched with sweat. Clinton Kline. He sits with a lack of posture. Slouched down while his legs spread apart. Massive hands cup the ends of the chair. She removes herself to retrieve the water. The clicks of her shoes match up with the clicks of the clock. Speaking of clocks, she checks the time. Her daughter shouldn't be home for another hour. That buys them plenty of time to discuss.

If it were up to her daughter, she wouldn't have left the house in the first place. Hell, she wouldn't have left her bed if she had anythng to say about it, but duty calls, and the medical field isn't like a man, they call back. Lost in thought, the water escapes the rim. She curses softly to herself, checking to see if Mr. Kline had noticed. Thankfully, he stares at his harsh hands that reek with evidence of fighting.

Gloria dumps the oozing water into the pitcher, then wipes her hands on her dress. Handing the water over, he speaks two words this time. "Thank you." His one hand almost covers the glass. She watches as it touches his lips. Eyes search hers. She looks away quickly. "So I understand you train people Mr. Kline."

"Please, call me Clinton. Just because I'm old, doesn't mean you have to make it aware." Oh please. The man is barely thirty. Though he is six years older than Palmer. Clinton looks good for his age. Many would mistake him for a twenty five year old. Not too many would guess thirty one. Though the stragglers on his face, cover many scars, he is a fine man. "But yes, I do."

Gloria clears her throat, ridding the thoughts of a young man. Far too young for her. Besides, this is for her daughter. "Well, you see, my daughter Palmer, needs you." The words, just like the water didn't come out right. Spilling over the top. "What I'm trying to say is, well she just went through a terrible break up and needs...a distraction so to speak." Kline crinkles his eyebrows, unaware of what she is asking.

"So you want me to train your daughter at the gym?" Here's the kicker. Like a child, Gloria's fingers have found her mouth, as if embarrassed.

"Not exactly." What has gotten into her this evening? Gloria Voldure never gets nervous. And she sure as hell won't let a young man make her feel that way. She's stood in front of thousands at a time giving speeches. One statement to a man one on one is no excuse for nerves to act up, even if he is hot. "I want you to train my daughter yes. But I also want you to take her out. Get her mind off this guy who screwed her over."

The man blinks in astonishment. This is desperate, even for her. "You want me to lead your daughter on then break her heart like the last man did?"

"No! Of course not. I just want you to take her on some dates, maybe take her somewhere else and release some tension, if you know what I'm refering to."