Rebound, Boundless Series, Book 1

Chapter One

After separating from my ex-husband of five years, Ben Brassi, the only job I was offered by my best friend, Chelsea "Chelz" Donato, the Director of Group Fitness at Duration, was leading fitness classes part-time. Chelz also recommended me for Duration's Sales Director position—a role with significant turnover. With my only professional work experience being a former executive at Ben's family's company, Brassi Construction, Duration's owner, Steve Galloway, had hesitated in extending full-time employment. Instead, he offered a limited contract with minimal benefits. Yet, I'd resolved to prove my sales and marketing acumen and earn a permanent job within the company.

When Chelz had first suggested I teach two fitness classes, I was reluctant. I no longer had the lithe figure of a dancer. She'd assured me of my talent, encouraging me to teach the weekly 'Latin Cardio' class. Later, I created the 'Take It Off' burlesque program. Different from pole dancing, the session required sensual movements with feathers and other props. The class's success resulted in scheduling more nights. Thankfully, my other part-time job at Liberty Inn allowed me to rest behind a desk while I registered guests.

As a twenty-eight-year-old divorcée, the additional money allowed me to live independently from my elderly father and adult half-siblings, despite the overwhelming debt from my divorce. But the extra work tasked my body. The discomfort in my hip was a reminder of the pain I'd experienced as a dancer at the Conservatory. Exhaustion seeped into my bones and remained encased in my marrow like an insect in amber. A pain I tolerated because of my love of dance and movement.

When the pain became unbearable, I asked Paul, the Director of Personal Training at Duration, for recommendations. Instead of giving me exercises or a stretching routine, he suggested Dr. Mathias Keene, renowned for his international work with athletes. Because of his reputation, it surprised me to learn that his practice accepted my mediocre health insurance.

I had to push aside my animosity toward doctors, stemming from when my mother became terminally ill with cancer. During my teenage years, as the only responsible caretaker, I accompanied her to all of her doctor's visits—or worse, the emergency room. Each time, I'd answered endless questions about her illnesses, medications, and diagnoses repeatedly. It was a broken record on a never-ending loop. To me, doctors were sadistic men in white lab coats, who listened passively and looked at her as nothing more than a wretched being.

I took the 8 a.m. appointment, opting to walk to work afterward to save money. Under a navy skirt, I wore compression shorts for the examination. A cream-colored blouse minimized my ample chest and round belly. On a typical rainy April morning in Boston, I wore my raincoat and rain boots. I styled my long curly hair in a French Twist, held up by a clip. It was the only way to stave off the inevitable frizz. Keeping my makeup simple, tinted lip gloss and waterproof mascara helped bring a glow to my tired face.

A smile returned to the resting bitch face I'd sported since my separation. Seeing my old self return gave me a much-needed boost.

It had been a long time since I saw myself as an attractive and desirable woman. The last few years of my marriage breaking down had robbed me of my confidence and self-esteem. Being free of Ben and his family had finally made my hopes and goals soar. I was sexier with my fuller figure, no longer working toward the slender frame of a dancer that my training had ingrained in me.

As a reward for taking care of myself with the doctor's visit, I indulged in my favorite treat—a soy latte with lots of sugar. The sweet liquid soothed my fraying nerves. Just when I was ready to leave Dr. Keene's office and never return, my name was called.

The nurse, dressed in mint green scrubs, introduced herself as Annie. She ushered me into a room at the end of a long hallway. She broke the ice by talking about the weather, then asked me about my work and general health as she took my vitals. We had a few laughs at my expense when I added a few comedic answers to her typical, but boring, questions. She asked me to remove my skirt, keeping my top, shorts, and socks on.