The Only Way is Up

Part Twenty Three

"You threw one hundred percent into that today."

Nicole laughed, "it's my competitive edge."

Again Paolo laughed, "very few people get competitive over something like Pilates."

"You'd have a lot more if Maxim Chertov trained more people."

He giggled, "that's brilliant, the greatest push to one's self is to prove a point to another."

She nodded, "thanks. You obviously haven't met him."

Gathering her things together she wanted to smile to herself, a few months ago she'd have been anonymous, snuck out of the door before anyone spotted her, now, she was talking, noticed. That was due to him, the demon personal trainer, or should that be Devil?

Her phone was once again filled with missed calls and messages, Kim, Maxim and Vincent. She groaned out loud, then read through the non offensive ones first.

Kim: I've had a few contractions, my mother swears they're Braxton-Hicks, but who knows? Could do with a hug. You local?"

"Shit, shit, shit!" She was immediately worried for her best friend. As she jogged, albeit painfully to the car, she opened the next message, this one from Maxim.

"I've slept late. Never happened before. But then was pacing the town until the early hours. Something obviously on my mind. Or someone. I know I said I'd pick you up, but can we meet a little later? Sorry."

She smiled, he was so considerate, she could only imagine how devastated he'd be to let her down.

Penning a quick reply, "Not a problem, I'm heading to see Kim. Speak later." Then made for her car.

Only to find her soon to be ex-husband leaning against the bonnet. At the dinner, was that really only two nights ago?, he'd seemed fraught, anxious. But here, today, away from that environment he made her immediately nervous.

Taking a deep breath, she offered a slightly anxious smile, "Vincent, what are you doing here? This is slightly out of your comfort zone. I know that you hate being this far east."

"Don't you check your phone?" He moved away from the vehicle and stepped towards her, "I've been trying to speak to you all weekend."

"You had a chance on Friday night. I can't understand why you need to speak to m ea day or two later. Now if you don't mind, I'm in a rush." Her thoughts were with Kim, and the fear she must be feeling at the potential early signs of labour, weeks too early.

As she tried to open her car door, Vincent's hand snatched at her hand, encircling her wrist.

"What are you doing Vincent," she tried to shake her hand free, but his grip was fierce.

"I want to talk to you, not here in the street, come to my apartment."

She shook her head, distracted more than fearful, "I have to go. Call me in the office if you want to talk."

But still he didn't let go of her wrist, "I want to talk now."

She wriggled and tugged, but still he wouldn't release her, "I have wanted to speak for weeks, you've not wanted to. So you don't get to call any shots. Now, let ME GO! Or you will regret it."

She glared at him, then down to her left hand, his fingers wrapped around it, and where she'd thought he'd let go, free her hand, he merely laughed.

"You'll do as I say..."

He hadn't finished his sentence before she'd swung her free hand up in a determined fist and smashed it into his cheek.

His screech was reminiscent of a child, but at the same time she felt the pain in her hand, she could have broken something. Pushing Vincent away, she climbed into the car and drove off. She intended to go straight to Kim's, but she knew that Maxim would know what to do. But her friend needed her more.