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Authors: Josie Kerr

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BOOK: A Bad Bit Nice
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Chapter 13
  
 
July

“Vegas, baby!”

Em had to pull the phone away from her ear to avoid being deafened by Ashley’s hooting.

“I’m headed your way, Ash. Try to stay out of trouble until I get there,” Em laughed.

Em had to admit, Ashley’s idea of staying through the weekend in Las Vegas was pretty perfect. She could definitely use some fun, rest, and relaxation. Plus, it was Ashley’s birthday weekend, and her friend definitely knew how to celebrate.

Rory had insisted on a suite at the Bellagio, dismissing Em’s quibbles about price, so when Ashley said that she would love to see an MMA fight in Vegas, Em knew just what to do.

Em had no sooner stepped foot in the suite when Ashley buzzed out of her room, demanding that Em change from her work clothes into something more appropriate.

“Hurry, I want to get a good seat!” Ashley was practically vibrating with excitement. She hugged her friend tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you for this!”

“Let me go and change so we’re not late, Ashley,” Em laughed.

By the time they got to the other casino, Em was almost as excited as Ashley. Her friend’s enthusiasm was infectious.

“Okay, so what exactly is happening here?” Em asked as two women made their way to the front of the seating.

“This is the weigh-in. All the fighters on the card come and get weighed, and then they do a face-off.” At Em’s confused look, Ashley clarified. “They make mean faces and fists at each other.”

“Oh, okay.”

Two by two, the fighters approached the stage, weighed in, and faced off. It tickled Em how happy this made Ashley.

“Oh, oh, here’s my favorite guy. His fight is the main event tomorrow night,” Ashley said, repeatedly elbowing Em, who was certain that she was going to be bruised.

“Whoa. That guy is really...big,” Em gasped. Ashley laughed.

“Well, he’s a heavyweight. He’s the contender right now. A lot of people don’t think he has a chance, but I believe in him,” Ashley said earnestly.

Em shook her head. “Ashley Richards: pageant queen and MMA fangirl. What would your mother say?”

“She’d tell that boy up there to not listen to any of the bullshit and go kick some ass, is what she’d say.” Em laughed out loud at that. Yes, that’s exactly what Claudia would have said.

The two heavyweights faced off. One of the fighters, the one that Ashley didn’t like, said something to Ashley’s favorite that made the man scowl. He was obviously taunting him.

“Do fights ever break out at these things?” Em murmured.

“Nah, not really. Most of these guys are actually pretty friendly with each other. With these two, though, I don’t think that’s the case. Pierce has a big mouth and he’s always running it, and he’s a hothead. Carmichael is made of ice–he never loses his cool.”

“And Carmichael is the one you like, right?” Ashley nodded, her eyes still glued to the stage.

All of a sudden, Pierce shoved Carmichael and men scrambled on stage to separate the two fighters. After a few tense moments, each went off the stage in the opposite direction.

“The meet and greet is going to be interesting,” Ashley said, her eyes bright, as she and Em made their way to the exit of one ballroom and headed to the meet and greet location.

“And I suppose we’re doing that next, correct?”

“Correct!”

Em stood with Ashley in Carmichael’s line, listening to Ashley recite statistics and other trivia about the fighter in her ear. Giant posters of the fighters decorated the ballroom.

“How old is Carmichael?” Em asked.

“He’s probably in his mid-thirties. Why? Do you think he’s cute?” Ashley wiggled her eyebrows and jabbed Em with her elbow again.

“Keep that elbow to yourself, Ash,” Em laughed. “No, I don’t know. He
is
attractive, but there’s something about him that seems very familiar.”

Ashley shrugged. “Maybe when we get up to the table, you’ll figure it out. Some people look pretty different in photographs.”

Em looked around at the crowd. Most of the women were scantily clad or wore dresses of the short, tight, and shiny variety. Ashley was one of the few in jeans and a t-shirt. Yes, a tight low-cut t-shirt and painted-on jeans, but a still a t-shirt and jeans.

One of the flashier women stood behind Carmichael, a smug look on her face. Em immediately disliked her. When the woman noticed Em looking at her, she placed a hand possessively on the fighter’s shoulder. Carmichael gave her an irritated look and shrugged her off, obviously annoyed with the woman. She stepped back and glared at the big fighter.

A muscular Latino man stepped up the woman and whispered something in her ear that angered her further. The man looked like he was giving the woman a choice. She soon stormed out, leaving the Latino guy and Carmichael shaking their heads.

“I wonder what that was about,” Em mused.

Ashley absently shrugged because she was next in line. She tried to calm herself down, because this really was pretty embarrassing, but she couldn’t help it. She was excited!

“This reminds me of when we got to do the Duran Duran fan meet. You’re about that excited, Ash.”

“I think I’m actually
more
excited, Em, which is absolutely ridiculous,” Ashley shook her head at her own silliness.

“Happy birthday to you?”

“Happy birthday to me!”

“It’s your birthday?” rumbled a deep voice.

Ashley’s eyes and mouth opened wide.

“Yes, it’s her birthday. Well, tomorrow is,” Em answered, snickering to herself because Ashley was very rarely, if ever, struck speechless.

“Well, happy birthday to you...” Carmichael said, waiting for Ashley to tell him her name.

“Her name is Ashley,” Em said. Carmichael winked at Em, and that’s when she figured it out: his eyes were the exact shade of silvery blue as Mick’s.

Carmichael signed a poster for Ashley and shook her hand, all the while wearing a bemused expression.

The guy in line behind Em and Ashley noisily cleared his throat, and Em thanked Carmichael and led Ashley from the table.

“Good luck tomorrow night!” Em said with a little wave.

“Thanks,” the big fighter said with a grin. The Latino guy behind him didn’t even bother to hide his amusement and laughed long and loud.

“Okay Ashley, I think you need a restorative drink, honey,” giggled Em. “That was about the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Em led Ashley back to the suite, where she ordered a pitcher of margaritas and some light appetizers from the room service menu.

“I am a total jackass, Em,” Ashley moaned. “I didn’t even say anything to him! What on Earth was wrong with me?”

“I don’t know, but it was hilarious, Ash. You were totally star-struck.”

Ashley just shook her head as she refilled her glass. “Thank goodness I didn’t splurge for the pre-fight mixer and front row tickets,” she laughed. “Talk about embarrassing to see him again.”

“I’m sure that he gets that all the time. He probably wouldn’t even remember you. Not that you’re not remarkable.”

Ashley laughed. “Good save, Em. Good save.” She took a sip of her drink. “Since you were so much more with-it, did you ever figure out who he reminded you of?”

“It’s very silly, but he totally reminds me of Mick,” Em confessed. Ashley rolled her eyes.

“Everything probably reminds you of Mick, Em. You’ve totally got it bad for that big guy.”

Em sighed. “I know I do, but Carmichael’s eyes are the exact same shade of blue as Mick’s, and I’ve never seen anyone with eyes that particular shade.”

“He doesn’t look like him otherwise, though, except for the height maybe. He’s a lot broader and more muscular and his hair’s not nearly as dark.”

“No, and his nose is different, but that may just be because it’s been broken.” Ashley nodded in agreement. “I guess he doesn’t really look like him at all. I’m just a bit obsessed, I suppose.”

“You really like this guy, don’t you, Em?”

“Yeah, I do. He’s just so...different.” Em looked out the window, her eyes a dreamy glaze.

“Have you two done it?”

Em snapped out her haze. “Done what? Oh no! No, Ashley. We haven’t really spent that much time together. We both travel a whole lot.”

“But you’ve kissed.”

“Oh, yeah, we definitely kissed.” Em sighed again. Boy, had they kissed.

“He’s not tried to do anything else?”

“No, though when we went to lunch last week, he was pretty flirty,” Em said, grinning at the memory. “And I think Rory wants us to get together. He keeps hinting around.”

Ashley whistled. “Now Rory is someone I could take a bite of. That man is fine.” She sighed.

“Sounds like someone else is a smitten kitten,” Em teased.

Ashley waved her off. “Oh please. I know what’s good for me, and Rory? That man is pure danger. No, thank you.”

Em sat back in her chair and sipped her drink.
Methinks the lady doth protest too much.

*****

Mick sat the outdoor café table, waiting for Rory to arrive. He held the two small pendants in his fingers, stroking the edges of the small medals. He sensed his friend come up behind him. He didn’t raise his head, but just said his usual greeting.

“Whaddya at, Rory?”

Rory flopped in the chair. “Oi, Mickey. Why do you insist on sitting outside in July? It’s sweltering.”

“You afraid you’ll get that pretty porcelain skin burnt?” Mick teased with a wink.

Rory made a face and gave Mick an ugly hand gesture, but then laughed. “No, it’s just fucking hot, Mickey. At least we’re not in Vegas. You’d probably insist on sitting outside in the 110 degree heat. And don’t tell me it’s a dry heat, because 110 is still 110.”

Mick laughed. “So it was hot last week, no?”

“Fuckin’ brutal. And Em just traipsed around, happy as you please, not seeming to mind it at all.” Rory shook his head in disbelief. “That little woman is a machine, I swear.”

“People have said the same about you, Rory.”

Rory scoffed. “Yes, but I’m nothing compared to her.”

Mick made a non-committal noise.

“What’s got you quiet today, boyo?” Rory asked. “What’s that?” He motioned to the small objects in Mick’s hand.

“Saint Rita,” is all Mick said. Rory nodded in understanding.

“His birthday?”

“Yeah, his birthday’s today. He’s 35. Or would be 35.”

“You want me to step up the search, Mickey? If you do, just tell me. Now that I’ve got Em on the payroll, I have a bit of free time.”

Mick sighed. “I don’t know. You’ve been looking for him for 20 years now, Rory, and we’ve found absolutely nothing. Hell, Moira could have killed him and buried his body in Southie and disappeared.”

Rory looked horrified. “Mick, hey! None of that. I know Moira was a horrible, evil person, but I don’t think she’d kill her own child. Is that seriously what you think?”

“No, I don’t. But accidents happen, especially if you make a habit of knocking your kids around, or letting your drunken boyfriend knock them around.”

“Mickey...” Rory began, but didn’t finish. He didn’t know what to say.

Mick shook his head as if clearing it, and raised his glass. “To Colin, wherever he may be.”

“To Colin,” Rory repeated, making a silent vow to sic Em on the search for Mick’s long-lost younger brother.

“So what are your plans today, Mick? You don’t need to sit here in the heat and brood about your brother. That does no one any good.”

Mick barked a laugh. “I’m not going sit out here in the heat. You remember Jesse from the rec center?”

“Jesse? Lived with his granny? Big fellow that joined the military?”

Mick nodded. “He’s being deployed in a few days and he wants to list me as a contact. I need to sign some paperwork this afternoon.”

“Mick, you sure you want to do that?”
Sweet Janey Mac, the last thing Mickey needs is more loss.

“I’m sure, Rory,” Mick said, still turning the small saint pendent in his fingers. “Sophie’s pregnant.”

“Oh, shite.”

Mick huffed a laugh. “Yeah, that’s what I said. Apparently, though, she’s clean, and has been since she found out she was pregnant. Jesse’s trying to get some base housing for her and his grandmother, get ‘em away from Sophie’s old crew, but there’s a waiting list. Anyway, he asked me to be a contact, and I said I would, so I am. I just hope that Sophie will reach out to me if things start getting rough. We didn’t have the best relationship.”

“Mickey, she fucking hates you.” Rory laughed without humor. “You really think she’s gonna come to you?”

“Honestly? No. But Jesse’s granny would, and maybe, just maybe, I can do some good that way.”

Rory whistled low. “Maybe, man. I hope you know what you’re getting into. When’s the baby due?”

“Late August, early September.”

BOOK: A Bad Bit Nice
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