Chapter 3 CAREER

Feeling refreshed after showering away all the muck of dried sweat from my skin , I changed into fresh workout gear and began preparing for my ten o'clock aerobics class.

The gym's busiest was any time after four o'clock in the evenings when people are retiring from a long day's work. That's the time I try to be off the floors. But then there were also people with odd schedules, so on some days I instructed classes throughout the entire day.

Proud Sweat Fitness Center was my sweetheart. I'd known since age twelve that what I wanted in life was my own gym.

At around age eight, I used to join in with my mother as she dressed in bright-colored leggings, tanktop and sneakers and worked her body into a bucket of sweat in front of the television.

I'd been fascinated with the whole concept of being active; the continuous movements that would have my heart pounding furiously in my chest. It was the most amazing feeling-still is.

Abnormal as it was for an eight-year-old to wake before her mother at six in the morning and wait in anticipation for her to get dressed , switch on the television and start working out , this little girl did.

And as I grew, I became more enthralled with gym equipment , curious about the way every machine worked , wanting to try them all , until I fell into an obsession with fitness.

At sixteen years of age , I had abs that a celebrity would toss diamonds for. Once I hit the age twenty mark , I became a plague to my father, ensuring him that this was what I wanted.

Though it was difficult for him to accept that I was now an adult , he'd granted me access to the account he'd opened for me since before I was born , and , with a thumbs up , told me to go ahead and make my dream happen.

That I did. And now , PSFC was San Franciso's most famous luxury gym. Three storeys high , PSFC was sumptuous and inviting with top-of-the-line equipment: ESEN, no less.

Under one roof there was everything from spa to swimming pool to sauna to basketball courts. Professional fitness teachers of every kind from martial arts to kickboxing. Proud Sweat Fitness Center had it all and I absolutely loved it.

A timid knock sounded outside my office door and I mumbled for the knocker to enter. It was my assistant , Ellen.

"Amelia , the representatives of both Sweat2Forget and Fitness on Air have called again..." She hesitated.

"They're rather persistent. Are you sure you're not interested?"

"Yes , I'm sure."

For the past two years I've been nagged non-stop with proposals to star in workout contents or have my own television program. Sweat2Forget and Fitness on Air were more persistent than others and seemed to hold the belief that one day I'd give in.

Apparently , a body and fitness drive like mine would be perfect for reeling in the cash, making their asses wealthy and the consumers healthy. But for some reason , as good as it sounded , I wasn't interested. I was quite contented with my stance in life and I didn't dig unnecessary attention.

It was the prime reason why I'd moved to San Fran from Los Angeles where my family resides-it's just an hour-long soar away , but I don't get harassed as much here. Being the daughter of Jordan Stewart proprietor of multi-billion-dollar armament company , Stewart' International, I inadvertently garnered unwanted attention in Los Angeles.

Paparazzi kept snapping my photo and plastering me all over the Internet just for being Jordan Stewart's daughter. At one point I was even asked to film a reality show. Ha! Laughable.

People sure as hell would turn away if they knew the darkness of my life. Therefore , I moved to San Francisco where people are somewhat more work ethical and less starry-eyed. People here kind of , well, didn't give a shit.

"Okay," Ellen replied with a look of disappointment. "I've added four new members to your five o'clock spinning class and two to your 7am Quicksand class. So expect some new faces. All the staff have been alerted to the meeting tonight but Beth , the yoga instructor , has come down with the flu so she will be absent all week-"

"Then how-"

"No worries. Any has agreed to do double time and fill in for her this week. There's some malfunction with two of the treadmills so I've called the repair guys who'll be here at 3pm. Oh, and there's yet another complaint made about the new girl in the Juice Bar. That I'll leave to you."

The lean brunette who stood before me never disappointed. She was the most efficient assistant I'd ever had and I appreciated her more than she knew. Half the time when problems popped up , they were solved before I was even aware of them.

"With an assistant like you around I'll never have to worry about much , will I? You deserve a breath-depriving hug and a big kiss."

Ellen blushed as her eyes fell to the floor. Oops , wrong choice of words.

"I'm just tryna tell you that I like having you around. Don't wanna lose your assistance. So anything you want , just let me know."

She didn't look at me when she muttered , "I think you already know what I want," before disappearing through the door.

Yeah, me.

Shaking my head, I reached for my cellphone and texted "I'm sorry" to Katie for that little tiff with her boss, then got up and headed downstairs to the Juice Bar to mend this reoccurring problem.

As I entered the cool, all-glass space of my Juice Bar & Lounge , a fresh island breeze fragrance traveled on the air; the air freshener that I insisted the cleaners used.

Oversized gray sofa chairs were organized neatly around cherry wood tables with fitness magazines strategically scattered in the middle , and blessed sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Once again , I commended Ellen. She knew I liked everything clean and organized.

Set on righting this new employee who had managed to stir one too many complaints about her negligence even though she'd only been here four days , I strode up to the counter of the bar.

Unaware of my presence , she was sitting cross-legged on the floor inside the bar , flipping through the pages of a magazine and bobbing her head to whatever music was pouring from her earplugs.