the gymâs euphemism for people whoâd paid for a yearâs membership. The rest of my job consisted of showing new guests how to use the equipment, spotting for someone whoâd come without a buddy, pushing the drinks and clothes the gym sold, and answering the phone. There were always two people on duty, always a man and a woman. If the man who shared my shift wanted to go work out, I was supposed to watch the desk. He was supposed to do the same for me.
I had never shown quite so much of myself to so many strangers, on a day-to-day basis. Even before what I labeled my âbad time,â Iâd been modest. But I had to blend in with the other employees, most of whom were younger. If any of them had had a body like mine they would have flaunted it much more than I was doing, Jack had assured me.
To minimize my self-consciousness about appearing in this getup, I kept my makeup to a minimum, avoided direct eye contact with the men, and tried to squelch any interest manifested by any of the guests.
Since the front door had been opened already, I knew the manager was there. Sure enough, the light in her office was on. Linda Doan didnât like me and was determined to get rid of me the first chance she got. But Linda couldnât fire me, though she didnât know that yet. She didnât know why I was really at Marvel.
I was under cover . The very term had a tendency to make me snicker, but it was true. Since its opening seven months before, the gym had been plagued by a thief. Someone was sneaking into the changing rooms and stealing itemsâcash, jewelry, cell phonesâfrom the guests. It wasnât impossible that the thief was a guest, but Jack thought the culprit was one of the staff, given the territory the thief had covered.
âThe menâs changing room, the ladiesâ changing room, the storage cubes outside the sauna,â Mel Brentwood had moaned. âDrinks, watches, chains, cash. Never a lot, never anything awfully expensive, but itâs just a matter of time. And the guests will hear about it and they wonât come. If we donât find out whoâs responsible, Iâll fire everyone working there and replace all of them, I swear I will.â
I was pretty sure such drastic action was illegal, but it wasnât my business to say so, and I noticed Jack glanced out the window and kept his face blank. Mel couldnât be the idiot he projected himself to be. He had started this string of gyms with money heâd begged and borrowed from skeptical friends of his parents, and heâd made the gyms prosper by thinking of ever-new ways to get them in the news without actually burning them down.
âCan we install a camera in the changing room?â Jack asked.
âHell, no! How do you think these people, most of âem trying to take off weight, would react to discovering theyâd been on camera? Thereâs no way to put one in there that no one would notice.â But I could tell the idea had caught Melâs interest. âIf I didnât want to take the thief to courtâ¦,â he said slowly. âIf I just wanted to catch the bastard and fire himâ¦â
âThe camera would never come up,â Jack said. âWe could take it out, destroy the tape, no one the wiser. I can run by Sneaky Peteâs. Iâm not crazy about the idea of filming people who donât know about it, but it would work.â
âSo, do I need Lily?â Mel Brentwood eyed me like I was a gunslinger who might draw on him.
âSure. There are things cameras wonât catch,â Jack said. âAnd we have yet to figure out a way to disguise them.â
âOkay, girl,â Mel said, whacking me on the shoulder to get me fired up for the big game. âYou start work as soon as you can get your tights on.â
I eyed him balefully. I wasnât happy about working for Mel, but Iâd worked for plenty of people I hadnât