HARD TO HANDLE
Excerpt 4
From any other woman, that might’ve sounded like flirting. But Harley noted that Anastasia’s teasing didn’t hold a single ounce of flirtatiousness. It was more like a good-natured insult. He both appreciated her attitude, and felt nettled by it.
“Basically,” Anastasia continued, oblivious to his emotional quandary, “what a life coach does is help someone to gain confidence in his abilities, discover his true path in life, and accomplish more goals with less stress involved. Not to brag, but I’m in pretty high demand, and I get requests from all over the country. When the price is right, I go to the client to work with him in his atmosphere, at his job and in his life.”
Harley studied her. “So it’s mostly guys you work for, huh?” When she looked confused, he explained, “You’re referring to a guy. His goals, his confidence...”
“Oh. That was just as an example. I’ve worked for some women, too.” Then she thought about it. “But you know, yeah, I have mostly worked with men. I always have a choice of clients, male and female, so I guess I just gravitate more to male clients.”
Harley settled back in his seat and crossed his arms. He forgot that he was still in his underwear. “Do tell.”
She compressed her lips, her thoughts hidden, then, as Harley watched, she shook off some unpleasant memory. “It doesn’t matter.”
“No?”
“The thing is, most people, men and woman alike, can get in a rut and then it’s nearly impossible to be objective about what they want or need, and how to get it. With agreed upon time frames, I work with them to stay focused on positive creativity, balance their lives, and achieve their goals.”
“By telling them what they should and shouldn’t do?”
“I guess you could say that, but I do it in non-judgmental, unbiased ways, and with their ultimate goals always in the forefront of my mind. It’s always about what the client wants and needs, not what I think is right or wrong.”
Incredible. “And your morals and ethics don’t factor in?”
“I’m a professional, Harley. I keep my own personal preferences out of the equation.”
He’d never heard of anything so bizarre. And he doubted anyone could be professional enough to keep personality of it. “People pay you for that?”
“Absolutely. I get a good salary, plus all my expenses. But I have a high success rate, so I’m worth every penny.”
For only a flicker of time, Harley wondered what advice she’d give him. But he snuffed that bizarre idea real quick. He kept his own counsel and he didn’t want a busybody woman, even if he suddenly realized she was pretty hot, to go dicking around with his head. “When do you have to travel again?”
“Usually, as soon as spring arrives, I get back to work.” She pleated her napkin and shrugged. “But I recently hit a glitch, so this year, I’m probably going to take an extended hiatus.”
Harley waited, but Anastasia didn’t expound on the “glitch.”
She dusted off her hands and looked up at him. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Do you have a goal? One particular thing that you’re focused on?”
Harley didn’t hesitate. He was a highly motivated man who had plenty of goals. Most of them shifted in importance from day to day, sometimes hour to hour, depending on what was happening in his life.
But his number one goal never altered. “I’m going to win an SBC title belt.”
“Wow.” Showing no signs of doubt, Anastasia said, “I’ve watched a few competitions. Winning the belt seems like a tall order. The fighters are pretty impressive, and title fights are hard to come by.”
“They have to be earned.”
“I take it you have a solid plan on how to reach that goal?”
“Damn right.” Had she seen any of his competitions? Did Anastasia know of his missed opportunities?
“Great. You seem really positive, Harley, and you’re obviously more than capable.” Leaning closer, she said, “But let’s assume you’d had several disappointments in that regard. That’s where I’d step in and give you some direction.”
Before he could laugh, she added, “And no, I’m not talking about your training. That’s not my expertise at all.
But so much can influence us – family, friends, work.”
He’d learned that the hard way. “You aren’t kidding.”
“Those outside influences can easily throw us off track and cause us to make mistakes, if we let them.”
Harley heard himself say, “Some things are out of our control,” and then he could have strangled himself.
He did not share maudlin thoughts.
He did not complain aloud.
And he never, ever, admitted to a loss of control.
Tilting her head, Anastasia measured his words. “I agree. But in those cases, how we react to the circumstances can make all the difference between success and failure. Sometimes it takes an objective outsider to see what you can’t.”
“Maybe.” Disgusted with himself, Harley finished off his coffee in one long drink, and stood. He should never have accepted Anastasia’s invitation. He knew better than to get chatty with women. It was his number one rule.
Abrupt and not caring, Harley said, “It’s getting late, Anastasia. My pants done yet?”
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