Defying the Odds (16 page)

Jules pulled out a small stack of papers and held them out. Melody took them, the words blurring under the weight of her tiredness. She saw her name and frowned. “What’s this?”

“It’s a ticket,” Jules said simply. “It’s a printed confirmation of your flight to Las Vegas. I had to upgrade to first class in order to get you a last-minute seat this close to Christmas.”

“What?”
Melody stared down at the papers in her hand, noticing not only the price, which was enough to make her faint, but the time and date
the flight left. “This says the plane leaves in a few hours.”

“Yeah, we
gotta
go.” She gave Melody a pointed look. “Time is of the essence. I called Louise. She used to work for Hal, still does on occasion. She’s
gonna
fill in for you while you’re gone. Oh, there she is.” Jules waved.
“Hey, darling!
Just go in back and tell Hal I’m paying you to work.”

Melody felt like her brain was swimming. She leaned around the corner, looking to where Jules was waving, seeing an older woman walk in wearing a Hal’s Diner uniform.

Melody glanced at the ticket once more, feeling guilty when she considered how much it had cost. “Look, I appreciate this, but I
need
this job.”

Jules shrugged, looking collected and unruffled. “It’ll be here when you get back.”

Melody put a hand to her forehead, the tension headache pulsing stronger than ever. She was a little too overwhelmed with life to be dealing with Jules Conner. “I’m not good for him,” she whispered, hoping to put the urgency in her voice. “Really, if you care about him, you won’t push this.”

“Do you care for him?” Jules countered. “Is his health and safety important to you?”

“Of course,” Melody said a little too quickly. She wanted to retract it, knowing her passion wasn’t helping her cause, but she couldn’t help it. “Yes, of course, his health and happiness mean everything to me,
that’s
why—”

“Then you’ll come.” Jules shrugged. “’Cause if you don’t, he’s
gonna
get the living shit beat out of him by a cocky city boy named Romeo
Wellings
. Have you ever watched an MMA fight? Do you understand how hard-core they are?”

“I’d never heard of it until Clay,” Melody said with a wince, realizing how very little she knew about this sport Clay was so passionate about. “It’s like boxing,
ain’t
it?”

“Boxing’s dangerous.” Jules gave Melody a look that said she thought it was common knowledge. “
So’s
MMA, and because of
you
, neither his head nor his heart are in this fight. If he goes into the octagon without your pretty
self sitting
there cheering for him, he’s
gonna
get hurt, Melody; he’s
gonna
get hurt real bad. Now are
ya
coming or not?”

Melody looked at the printed ticket in her hands and then thought of the big television Hal had set up in the dining room for the fight tonight. Why did she think she could run around and work while Clay was fighting with some city boy who saw Clay as the only thing standing between him and glory?

“I’m coming,” Melody said breathlessly. She’d already stood by the wayside while one city boy beat the passion and joy out of her life, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to let it happen again. She was mad at herself for even considering it. “Let’s go.”

“We’ll run by your house and grab a few things. I got a spare bag in the car.” Jules grabbed Melody’s hand, dragging her across the restaurant and behind the counter. “Get your things. We
gotta
move like hell’s breathing at our necks.”

Melody didn’t need to be told twice. She ran into the back to grab her jacket and purse. When she came back to the front counter, she handed her purse to Jules and then pulled her jacket on. “What ’bout my truck? I
gotta
follow you.”

“
Gimme
your key.
I’ll get it back to your place,” Hal said, coming out of the kitchen. “We got it, Mel, just go. Make sure our boy brings home another belt.”

Melody felt dazed. Hal was standing there, Mary behind him, and the new waitress was also watching, having obviously filled them in on why she was there in the first place. Then Melody turned to look around at the restaurant, seeing all eyes on her. It was one of the most bizarre moments of her life.

“Keys,” Jules snapped, dragging her back to reality as she held out Melody’s purse, opening it for her.
“Hurry, hurry.”

Melody grabbed her keys and worked at undoing the key to the truck with shaking fingers. When she struggled with it, Jules huffed and grabbed the key chain, doing a far more effective job with removing it. “When’s the last time you had some sleep? You look like you’re about to drop where you stand.”

“Been a while.”
Melody winced, knowing she must look a mess.

“You can sleep on the plane.” Jules pulled the key free and tossed it on the counter. Then she shouldered Melody’s purse and reached out, grabbing her hand. “We just
gotta
make it there first.”

Melody was still dazed, the cheers rising up from the patrons sounding distant as Jules opened the front door, letting in a blast of cold air. She turned, seeing everyone standing up and clapping, the excitement palpable. It hit her then how important this fight was to this town, how important
Clay
was to them. He made Garnet interesting, and when he won, the whole town won with him.

It wasn’t until she was out in the cold, the cheers from Hal’s patrons a low hum, that she said, “Jeez, this town really does need a movie theater. I can’t believe that many people know ’bout us.”

Jules pushed a button on her key chain, making a shiny, silver Mercedes beep back at them. “You make sure Clay wins this fight, and he can
buy
them one. Get in.”

Jules had a very demanding nature. It was easy to see why she was such a successful lawyer. Melody got into the Mercedes, feeling awkward when she was still in her waitress uniform. Jules jumped into the driver’s side and was pulling out of Hal’s parking lot before Melody got her seat belt on.

“He doesn’t make that much, does he?” Melody asked, rather than focus on Jules driving, which was a little intense for her tastes.
“Just for one fight?”

“One fight?”
Jules gave Melody a bewildered look. “This is a title fight, and he’s the UFC’s top-earning fighter. You really have no clue, do
ya
? It
ain’t
a lie. You really like Clay for Clay, bad attitude and all.”

Melody prickled, feeling defensive as she glared at Jules. “I think his attitude’s just fine, and if you don’t know that, then maybe you
ain’t
really his friend.”

Jules eyebrows rose, shock showing on her face for one brief moment, before a smile tugged at her lips. “Darling, for Clay’s sake, I sure hope things between you two work out, ’cause I think you might actually be one worth keeping.”

“He doesn’t know I’m here?”

Jules took a deep breath, looking up from the rapid texting she was doing on her phone. “He could get nervous. It’d be terrible for you to watch him get knocked out. Wyatt’s holding it as his trump card. If Clay gets in trouble, he’ll use it. But right now he’s not certain if it’ll throw his game. He’ll play it if he needs to.”

“But he wanted me to come,” Melody reminded her, speaking loudly over the throb of people and music reverberating inside the dome. “He asked me himself.”

“Did he invite you to watch the fight?”

Melody considered that, looking around at the massive crowd. She’d honestly had no idea Clay did something that attracted the enthusiasm and adoration of this many people. Clay’s fight being the main fight of the evening thankfully bought them a little time. It was exciting, but it was also terrifying. She wasn’t real sure coming to this fight had been a great plan. If she had to watch Clay get beaten and hurt in front of this many cheering people, she might get sick all over Jules’s shoes.

“No,” she finally said, feeling her heart in her throat. She wished she had better success with praying, because she’d never been more scared in her life than she was for Clay at that moment. “He said I didn’t have to watch the fight. He thought I’d like Las Vegas.”

“Yeah, I thought so.” Jules sighed, sitting back against her seat, looking out to the octagon. “I’m
gonna
hear it later ’bout bringing you.”

They fell into a tense, awkward silence after that. They were both uneasy. The pulse of adrenaline in the room was sky-high, and it was making Melody so nervous her knees were shaking. She pulled at the sleeve of the sweater she’d thrown on in the mad rush to gather her things before they left for the airport. It was a sure bet she’d forgotten 90 percent of what she really needed. As it was, a sweater for a sold-out arena in Las Vegas was a very bad decision. She was sweating like crazy. To ease the uncomfortable heat, she pulled out her hastily done ponytail and worked on tying it tighter and higher to keep her thick hair off her neck.

She was glad she did when the room burst to life. Lights flashing, announcer’s voice echoing over the intercom, the music pumping with the bass beat of excitement. There was so much going on in so many different places it made Melody’s mind reel.

“This is him.” Jules pointed to the side of the arena where a group of men were making their way down a path that led to the cage in the center of the arena. “That’s
Wellings
.”

“They said his name’s Romeo,” Melody shouted over the throb of sound beating at her ears, the scream of the crowd deafening.

Jules pulled a face. “That’s his first name.”

Melody turned to watch the progression of the group. It was easy to spot the other fighter among his entourage. Walking at the center of the group, with obvious bodyguards flanking him on each side, he seemed handsome, sharp, and intense. Strangely enough, he reminded
her a
lot of Clay, with his cap pulled low over his eyes and his big, broad body. Only this fighter was more outspoken. He gave fans high fives and talked to the cameraman in front of him. There was a lot of male posturing, throwing out his chest, trying and succeeding in looking very intimidating. When he got to the ring and pulled off his cap, Melody had to admit he was very handsome.

Needing a distraction against the fear settled heavy in her chest, Melody leaned into Jules. “That’s
sorta
an odd coincidence that his name’s Romeo. Isn’t Jules short for—
”

“Don’t say it.” Jules turned to glare at her. “You know he’s the enemy, right?”

“But…that was the coincidence,” Melody started, finding herself looking into Jules’s icy-eyed stare.
“’Cause you’re from different houses.”

“No, I get it,” Jules said sharply. “But if you believe in omens, you might
wanna
stop with the comparisons because Clay’s from
my
house, and we want a different third act.”

Melody frowned, trying to remember
Romeo and Juliet
from eleventh-grade English. She vaguely recalled Romeo killing a family member of Juliet’s, and got Jules’s point. The coincidence was a little too odd, and she decided to stop thinking about it before she gave herself heart palpitations.

“Well, I don’t believe in omens,” Melody said, needing it out in the air.

“Me neither,” Jules assured her, though she sounded decidedly unsure. “Okay, here he comes.”

Melody stood on her feet to watch as Clay and his team made their way to the center of the arena. The excitement was intoxicating. It seemed like the crowd screamed ten times as loud for Clay, and her heart was literally bursting with pride over it. It was amazing Clay had managed to achieve this level of success. She was awed this many people not only knew who he was, but were excited just to see him. All of Garnet treated him like a celebrity, but they were used to him too; many even avoided him because he gave off an intimidating air. Until this moment, Melody hadn’t understood the sweeping scope of his fame, and it was surreal.

It felt like she had accidentally fallen into a relationship with a rock star.

Clay wasn’t as dynamic as the other fighter. He didn’t have the flash. He didn’t posture to the camera. Wyatt, however, did. While Clay walked stoically to the ring, Wyatt jumped to give high fives to fans, looking enthused and pumped to be exactly where he was. Melody realized he was compensating for Clay’s quiet intensity, and he was doing a damn good job of it.