I spent the week diving headlong into work, which was easy since there’s always so much to do. I also hid myself away and avoided Enrique which became much easier when he went out-of-town for business. Jemma had no problem teasing me when ever an opportunity presented itself. I was just too embarrassed, though I’m not sure why. Yes, I’m not the kind of person who goes home with someone for a one night stand. But I’m an adult and I can do adulty things. I can make mistakes and I can learn from them. I can also learn from my successes. Namely a hot stud (that I thought was out of my league) took me home for sex.

And as the week progressed Jemma’s good natured teasing turned from one particular intimate moment to the idea of finding someone to do it with on an ongoing basis. Maybe it was the environment and the idea of being surrounded by a lot of attractive people who might be hooking up regularly—or maybe it was Jemma’s nonjudgemental nature, but I was OK talking to her about these things. It made the day pass faster.

My sexual history was pathetic. I didn’t need Jemma to agree with that assessment. She on the other hand surprised me. Not that she had had such experiences even being just a little older than me, but rather that she had a dating life outside a 60 hour work week. I basically worked and slept—alone. My fiery-haired coworker had found a way to juggle a man and an all-encompassing career. I suspected she cut out sleep to make it happen.

In amongst our daily musings she asked if I had ever done yoga. For once I actually got to reply in the affirmative. In fact all through college I not only regularly did yoga, but actually taught a few sessions. It’s the only way I could manage my stress. And then like a light bulb going off over my head, I realized that maybe I shouldn’t have given it up. Of course that seemed like ages ago. It was probably closer to six months. Having found out that I had already done yoga Jemma decided to commit us to going.

She committed us that day by taking an extended lunch to go shopping for yoga attire. I found it a bit extravagant as I didn’t really go out of my way to have yoga attire per se. Jemma dragged me around search for the perfect outfit. She didn’t want us to stand out in a bad way. I was kind of getting caught up in her enthusiasm until I realized we hadn’t even looked for a place to do yoga.

In fact the shopping trip was kind of comically looking back at it. Jemma was particular about what she wanted and didn’t want even though she fully admitted to never doing proper stretches never mind any yoga. Even funnier was how I got roped into the fashion angle. Willingly roped into the fashion angle.

Things got funny when a clerk asked us what type of yoga we were going to do. Jemma looked like I had betrayed her—I hadn’t told her that there was more than one type of yoga! The clerk didn’t even really explain anything before launching into her love of Bikram and hot yoga, which my co-worker totally ate up. It would not have been my first choice and doubly so for a beginner like Jemma. But Jemma got hooked on the cool new yoga and probably the fact she’d get to show off her already thin frame. I kind of panicked realizing I was being herded to a type of yoga where half the class looked like they should be at the beach.

I got some shorts and a tank top. Jemma did not approve, except that they were very nice colours on me. My yoga virgin bought a some hot pants and a top that would make a sports bra seem modest. My first swimsuit covered more than her outfit. My current swimsuit still covers more than her outfit.

And then with something to do yoga in, I got to take on some of Jemma’s work so she could call around to find a hot yoga place. Luckily her only criteria was how close it was to work. She thought we could take an extended lunch every couple of days to do yoga and that way we would be refreshed and not bail on it after work. She found one and helped to spend what little money I had left signing up for it.

That night I caught up with Netflix and Alicia. I had told her about my big hook up and the probability that because of her awesome hair and make up job my dream guy didn’t even know it was me. I did it under the stricter confidence and half a bottle of wine. I asked if she could give me some tips having run my course with YouTube tutorials. She agreed, but we ate pizza with Merlot pushing my pathetic education to some time in the future.

The next day I got a text from Jemma reminding me to bring my yoga stuff, made me realize I should at least cut the tags off it if I wasn’t going to wash it. I also rolled up a simple polyester dress and a change of underwear. I had a bad feeling about this.

I again tried to bury my head into my work, but my yoga buddy kept bringing it up. I think I was getting a bit self-conscious just thinking about it.  So weird as I never thought much about it back in college, or did I? In between the work and the bantering I noticed that Christine, our boss, would most likely be going to Miami. I used it as a diversionary tactic to great effect. Jemma waxed poetic about Miami, the clubs, the beaches and sometimes getting a free trip on the company’s dime. That sounded divine in the middle of all this cold weather.

The morning went far too fast and before I knew it a very giddy strawberry blonde was dragging me out of the office to do yoga in a sauna. She made sure I had a clean change of clothes, which I replied to the affirmative Mom. Man, I’m getting sassy. We rode an elevator down to the street, ran across a block in freezing temperatures then up an elevator to the studio. And by studio I mean complex. This yoga studio was its own little sports facility. It had multiple studios and a state of the art change room. The reception area looked as good as some of the businesses that I guess the client probably worked for.

While filling out the rest of the paperwork I saw him. He was a good-looking guy, maybe in his early thirties. He had fair hair and also didn’t seem to be in dire need of any yoga. He also definitely saw us. He seemed to see us every time he lifted his head up from his clipboard, which was often. And with the paperwork filled out and our credit cards charged we got a short tour of the place.

I was somewhat disappointed that the guy also filling out forms wasn’t with us on our tour. He looked like he needed some company.  Along with three hot rooms, there was a sauna and a hot tub. A hot tub on the 7^th floor of a commercial building! I was seriously wondering if I could save rent money and just live out of a locker here and order in food.

Our tour ended in the change room and our perky tour guide asked us if we had any questions, which Jemma asked when the next class was. Apparently it was in zero minutes and our guide was now going to be late in starting it. Jemma was out of her dress before the instructor had reached the door. I turned away and scramble to get into my new outfit.

Having thought I had avoided any embarrassing moments getting changed around y coworker, she said, “See I want to work hard to get an arse like you have.” I was slightly more pleased at the comment than embarrassed that she had seen me naked. Small steps.

We snuck into the room, class already in progress, trying not to art or disturb anyone. I felt the heat the minute the door opened, but it really didn’t hit me until we were looking for a space near the back of the room. Jemma initially seemed to like the humid heat. We found a space and I started to do somewhat familiar poses as Jemma looked to me as much as the instructor. Then I saw him again.

He was on the other side of the room trying his best to do unfamiliar stretches in crazy heat. Jemma last about five minutes before sitting on the floor and just trying to breathe. This guy who had again stopped us lasted about 10 minutes more before he too gave in to the heat. I didn’t push myself. Well I did to do what the instructor was doing, but not like some of the people in the front row were. It appears I impressed both of the people watching. Jemma and that guy would occasionally try a pose and then end up sitting and coughing their breathe.

OK, I’m not a saint. I was watching the guy as I pushed myself through the poses. Yes, my form was not as graceful as the crazies at the front, but knowing he was there and might be watching made me push myself. He was wearing some yoga shorts, which were very how do I say—skin tight. He had a tight t-shirt that was very wet and again helped to show off a very athletic body. He made no secret he was looking at us—me—as much as the instructor. No small feat as she looked like the kind of girl who had thousands of followers on Instagram because she was constantly posting #fitspo porn.

Even my huffing and puffing co-work felt the need to point out I had an admirer, a very hot one. Bad Bikram joke Jemma. The class took forever, but a part of me didn’t want it to end, so long as he was here. And when the class did end I almost collapsed. I had no problem with the poses, but the heat kicked my ass. It had only been my ego that had kept me going the whole time. I just didn’t want to give up in case he was watching, and he was.

I would have loved to have run right out the door and straight to the change rooms, but Jemma wasn’t moving. He on the other hand was—towards us. Oh my god his smile! Did I mention he just walked up to us.

“Wow! That was tough”, he paused looking very nice and sweaty, “I should have come over to you. You seemed to have done this before.”

“She’s and old pro”, Jemma sold me to him with a gleam in her eye.

“Sorry, I’m Todd…”, he held out his hand.

“Alex”, I said shaking his soft and somewhat wet hand.

“Jemma”, she offered from the floor, but made no attempt to cut into our hands.

After that he asked how often we came here and some questions nominally about yoga. He asked when we’d next be here and if I could give him some pointers. I tried to ignore Jemma sitting on the floor giving lewd gestures. It was kind of funny. Probably because she gesticulated what we were both thinking. We made a date to come back in a couple of days at the same time and then made our way to the change rooms.

I tried to point out we were on the outskirts of a long lunch, but Jemma wouldn’t let me get away that easy.

“So Todd…”, her damn English accent really delivered the innuendo. I did a bad job of deflecting, which Jemma called me on and pointed out that Todd had not been looking at ‘us’, but rather me. I knew that to be true. “So what are we going to do about Todd?”

I really had no idea of what to do with Todd. I mean I had a few ideas of what I’d like to do with Todd, but. Instead I bit and asked Jemma how she juggled work and a relationship. Jemma started talking about her last relationship as we stepped into the shower. She told me about how she met him at a poetry slam, and that I shouldn’t judge her. I didn’t. OK, I did because poetry slams are rad. She told me about late night coffees as we sudsed our selves down. And discussing books that she only read so she could talk to this guy. She mentioned they met after work as we shampooed our hair. And how they had a ritual of meeting for coffee, discussing books or current events. She told me about late night dinners in little out-of-the-way places as we rinsed conditioner out of our hair. And then the alternating of sleeping at each other’s place. She seemed very happy as she related the story.

As we dried ourself down, I had to ask. “What happened, where is he now?” I felt bad because I seemed to break her happy recollection. “He got a promotion and moved to London.” I felt bad as I reached for my fresh clothes. I offered her sympathy, not so much for what had happened in the past, but for reopening the wound. “It’s OK. We tried a long distance thing, but it just wasn’t the same.” She seemed wistful as she put on her bra. “We drifted apart and moved on.”

Now completely dressed and feeling like I had inadvertently crushed my friend, we hurriedly refreshed out make up and decided on matching pony tails before running back to the office where we had no doubt been missed.

Out in the lobby Todd was waiting for us—me. He said he really liked talking with us and looked forward to the next class. He handed me his business card. Todd Ritter, investment banker. Off white card stock centred and embossed. He handed Jemma one too then gave us each a kiss on the cheek before leaving us. He looked back before disappearing out the door.

“You got two.”

“Pardon?”

“He kissed my cheek.”

“Ya, he kissed both our cheeks.”

“No, he kissed both your cheeks.”

“That he did”, which was accompanied with a beaming smile.

Jemma leaned over and conspiratorially said, “And you’re going commando, you didn’t put on a pair of knickers.”

“That I did.” I wrapped my arm into my supportive friend and strolled back to work where we were indeed missed.

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