His perfectly shaped lips pressed into a thin line as he studied her.

Taylor braced herself for the blow she knew was coming. She was pissed she hadn’t gotten a second brownie out of him before the inevitable end of their nonexistent partnership.

“Is that you in those videos on YouTube?” Jamar finally asked.

“Yes,” she answered slowly.

“And are you the trainer all those Yelp reviewers were raving about?”

She nodded.

He shrugged. “Then why do I care if you have a college degree? Bill Gates didn’t have a college degree when he started Microsoft.”

She’d been so busy mentally preparing herself for disappointment that it took a moment for his words to register. He still wanted to hire her?

Taylor tried to contain the squeal threatening to explode from her mouth. Jamar Dixon would never understand the gift he’d given her with those words. Growing up surrounded by people who collected degrees the way some people collected baseball cards, her refusal to go to college had only added to her odd-duck status in the Powell household.

Having Jamar as a client could turn her entire business around. His endorsement could lead to legions of his fans clamoring to work with the fitness consultant who put their beloved favorite football player back in the game.

“I realize that what I’m asking you to do is pretty intense,” he continued. “I’ll pay you fifteen thousand dollars if you’ll work exclusively with me for the next two months.”

Thank God she hadn’t chosen that moment to take a sip of her carrot juice, because it would be all over the table right now.

“I looked up the average charge for personal trainers,” Jamar continued, as if he hadn’t just blown her freaking mind. “According to most of the websites I researched, trainers charge between forty and seventy dollars per hour session. I figure you average around five clients a day, so that would be three hundred fifty dollars per day. Am I right?”

“Umm…” was all she managed. Her brain was still stuck on fifteen thousand dollars.

“Do you see more than five clients a day?”

“I…” She shook her head. This was banana pants.

“I should mention my one caveat,” he said. “And, before you ask, it’s something I’m not willing to compromise on.”

Unease trickled down her spine as she took in his intent, resolute stare.

“What is it?” Taylor asked.

“No one can know we’re working together.”

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SIX

As he sat across from her, Jamar tried to come up with the most accurate word to describe the look on Taylor Powell’s face. Horrified? Maybe some confusion. Possibly a bit of indignation.

“What do you mean no one can know I’m working with you?” she blurted.

Definitely indignation.

“If we’re going to work together, we have to keep it under wraps.”

“But…but why?”