“All right. That’s good to know. I think he’ll come by in the next month or so. He wants to quit his other gym.”

“Why don’t you bring him around next time you come? Introduce me.”

I shift uncomfortably. I haven’t had to say this part out loud to anyone yet and I highly doubt Raoul will understand. Anonymous chatting might be a bit of a question mark for him.

“Um. Well. I don’t actually know him.”

He raises one eyebrow that does all the talking for him.

“Well, to be exact,” I stutter, wondering if I’m in the process of losing all my cred with Raoul, “he doesn’t know who I am. And I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Keep what what way?”

“Ah. Look. It’s complicated but he’s a good guy. Eliot Hoffman. Treat him well when he comes in. But just don’t mention me. At all. Even if he asks. Which he probably won’t. He’s respectful of our . . . situation. But just don’t tell him anything about me. I just wanted to check and make sure that this was gonna be a good fit for him, since I told him to come. But it looks like it’s gonna work out. So just, yeah. Train him or whatever, but keep me out of it.”

Throughout the course of my speech, Raoul’s face gets tighter and tighter and by the end, I can barely see his lips anymore, they’re pressed so tight together.

“Girl, I do not understand this situation.”

“He and I are anonymously chatting, okay? And I really like him, but I’m not ready for him to find out my identity.”

“Oh, lord.” Raoul covers his face with one leathery paw. “Don’t tell me this is some internet sex thing, is it? Not you. Not Lou’s girl. What am I going to tell Lou?”

I’m sure my face is tomato-red right now. This is not a conversation I ever wanted to have with Raoul. But especially not in person. “Oh, my God! No! It’s not that, and my dad already knows about this whole thing, okay? Just—”

“Dad, don’t jump to conclusions.”

I startle a little, because I didn’t realize that Ronnie was standing right behind me. Which means that he’s heard this conversation as well. Lovely.

Ronnie is sweaty from a workout and looking highly embarrassed, but not judgmental. He glances down at me. “He always jumps to the worst conclusions. Too much Dateline.”

I laugh, a little surprised. It’s the closest thing to a joke Ronnie has ever said in front of me.

“Send your guy our way,” Ronnie continues. “We’ll take care of him.”

“Oh. Thanks.”