RUNNING GAME (A SECOND CHANCE SPORTS ROMANCE) (83 page)

We keep everything here, Bria. You never know what you might need.

I wanted to ask him under what circumstances we’d need to reference some random meeting minutes from back when Clinton was in office, but I’d held my tongue. Lawyers are particular types and they argued for a living. If that was the way he wanted thing, there wasn’t much I could say to change his mind.

As I was about to dig into the Clark file, I heard the door click at the top of the stairs.

Great, so much for my alone time.

I hoped for Marcia or Lisa. They weren’t big talkers and would be fine with sitting in silence. But if it was Michelle… God help me if it’s Michelle. My head was pounding again and the idea of having to listen to her blab on about her upcoming wedding was enough to send me into a mini panic attack.

But the footfalls were heavy. It wasn’t the sound that heels or other women’s dress shoes make. Who else could be-.

“They told me I might find you down here.”

I whipped my head around just in time to see Kevin clumsily descend the last three stairs.

“Kevin, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Easy,” he said. “Can’t a guy come see his beautiful girlfriend at work?”

“I am NOT your girlfriend anymore. Or, are you too drunk to remember?”

“I’m not drunk, just missing you.”

“How did you find me, anyway?”

“Really, Bria? You act like I didn’t work here myself. Everybody here still loves me. In fact, I sat in that very chair longer than you ever will.”

“What, so you sweet talked your way in here? I bet everyone was so impressed to see you stumble through the office drunk before nine in the morning.”

Kevin slammed his hand down on the end of the long table. “I told you, I’m not drunk!”

His face twisted in a mix of frustration and rage. He’d always been a bit of a jerk, but wasn’t the type to lash out. Kevin had always done his best to avoid confrontation so the little outburst concerned me.

“Okay, you’re not drunk,” I whispered, nervously.

He walked the length of the table and stood over me. I cursed myself under my breath for not getting up sooner. I didn’t like the feeling of him towering over me.

“It’s been too long,” he said. “Enough of this nonsense. I’m ready for you to move back in.”

“It’s not going to happen, Kevin. I can’t forgive you for what you did.”

“Bria, don’t be so naïve. I have a stressful career and you spent so much time working on your own crap… what was I supposed to do?”

“That’s such a lame excuse. Yeah, I’m a busy girl, but don’t put that on me.”

“Why didn’t you just give this stupid job up? I never should have gotten it for you.”

“Why would you say that? You know-.”

“What the hell are those?” he interrupted.

He was staring at the vase of flowers.

“What asshole from the mail room gave you those?”

“It’s none you your business. They’re from a friend.”

Kevin pulled out one of the roses and held it in front of my nose.

“Some loser is trying to get in to your pants with these? What a fuckin’ joke.” He dropped it on the table in front of me. He was seething with anger, now.

“I think you should leave.” It came out a lot less assertively than I’d hoped.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he snapped. “I think we have a lot more to discuss.”

He put his hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t you ever fucking touch me again!”

I jumped up, sending the wooden chair skittering back into the wall of files.

“Still a total priss, I see.”

Kevin kicked the chair away and started to advance toward me.

“I’m warning you, Kevin, you need to leave me alone.”

His eyes were unfocused and his gait unsteady.

“Just turn around and leave. You’ll thank yourself when you sober up.”

“It’s been such a long time,” he said. “I think we should give it one more chance. What do you say?”

I was backed up into the corner.

“Not another inch closer.” My own anger was starting to rise.

“What are you going to do? Are you going to scream for help? Don’t be ridiculous. I’m your boyfriend.”

When he leaned forward to take another step, I didn’t even think twice about what I was going to do.

I grabbed the heavy, metal stapler from the corner of the table and winged it at his head.

He was slow to react. The stapler hit its mark dead-center on his smug face. He reeled back in surprise and his nose immediately started gushing blood.

“Jesus, Bria!”

Kevin’s right heel caught on the table leg as he was stumbling backward. He fell in a heap.

“What the fuck did you do that for?” he screeched.

“I told you not to come any closer,” I said.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy!”

“Listen up you asshole. I gave you plenty of warning. What did you think was going to happen?”

He scrambled to his feet, clutching his shirt to his nose.

“I’m not done with you, bitch. You’re going to come to your senses soon and start begging
me
to come back. And when you do I’m not going to forget this little incident.”

Kevin ran up the stairs, grumbling and cursing. The door slammed behind him and I was able to exhale.

I
danced around him
, letting my impeccable footwork put me in position to strike. When he lunged forward with a sloppy right hand I easily stepped out of range and made him pay with a stinging right hand.

I couldn’t remember his name. It didn’t matter. He was new to the gym and trying to make himself known. So many of these guys came in lacking the proper respect. They thought if they could put on a good performance against me or one of my top guys then people would take notice. They’d go too hard in sparring sessions and break the rules to get their recognition.

The problem was, I knew exactly how to play this little game…

And I
always
play to win.

I circled away from his power side, barely dodging one hell of a haymaker. Every ounce of muscle was behind that punch, but his brain sure as hell wasn’t. He left himself wide open as I popped him with a series of stiff jabs. His head was snapping back like a Pez dispenser and I could see he was beginning to regret his strategy.

Fighters tend to get desperate when they get hurt. They throw sloppy, looping punches that are easy to duck and counter.

I tagged him with a straight right hand, sending him staggering. I was on autopilot. Years upon years of sparring had given me the insight to destroy amateur fighters. I knew what he was going to do before he did.

Since my phone call with Bria this morning, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her Ex. Who the fuck was he to bother her at work?

My sparring partner made a haphazard grab to take me to the ground. I shut him down with my superior upper body strength then hit him with a knee to the belly that drove all of the air out of him.

She had said he was a lawyer, but he worked for a different firm. I could imagine that stuffed-shirt asshole thinking he could waltz back into her life and get whatever he wanted. It made the muscles in my neck stiffen just thinking about it. I bit down on my mouth piece and charged forward to relieve a little stress.

I threw a combination to the body that only reinforced the damage I had done with the knee seconds earlier. He was having trouble catching his wind. When he dropped his hands to protect from another blow to the ribs, I unloaded with a barrage of head shots.

The first was a right cross that almost took him off his feet. I love the way a fighter’s eyes go vacant when they get hit with a clean punch to the temple. It doesn’t matter how big or strong you are, if you get hit in the right spot, with just the right amount of precision, you’re going to be on wobbly legs.

He threw his hands up and tried to feign that he was okay. It was a tactic fighters had used since the dawn of time to slow their opponents. In the octagon if you showed any weakness at all, you were done for. I was never fooled. I
always
smelled the blood in the water.

I swung another right, this time an uppercut, and it went right through his compromised guard like a hot knife through butter. The force of the punch lifted his heels off the ground. He fell back into the cage. It was the only thing keeping him upright.

I finished him off with a left hook. It was the punch I’d been known for. Nobody in the world of mixed martial arts had a left hook as devastating as mine.

When it landed, his eyes rolled back and he collapsed on the floor, a broken man.

“Oh, shit! What the hell, Luke?” yelled one of the other guys who was watching, cage side.

“Yeah,” said another one. “What are you doing? This is sparring dude.”

I spit out my mouthpiece.

“He’s the one who started throwing full force… I think this might be a good little lesson in humility.”

The cage door burst open and a handful of people scurried inside. They ran to the downed fighter and started fussing over him. His face was already swollen and turning black and blue.

I made my way out of the cage. The rest of the guys were looking at me in stunned silence. You weren’t supposed to go that hard during a sparring session. Especially with a guy who was so clearly outmatched. I didn’t care, though. Fighting was a dangerous sport. I could spar with someone all day without leaving so much as a damn bruise, but if someone was going to step into that cage and try to make a name off me I was going to make him pay for it.

“What the fuck is everyone looking at?” I barked. “Go back to work.”

This girl had been on my mind way too much lately. It was time I do something about it. I was scheduled to go out on a two-week press tour and the thought of being away from her again didn’t sit well. I didn’t want to blow the good thing we had started. It was against all of my rules, but I was considering asking her to come with me.

When it comes to my fights, I’m all business. She was different, though. I thought she could do it without being a problem. Plus, she would be a great distraction at the hotel room each night. That girl knew how to fuck the stress right out of me.

I stood in front of my locker and made the call.

“Hello?”

“What are you up to, cutie?”

“You wouldn’t believe the day I had. It felt like it was never going to end.”

“Sounds like you made it, though,” I chuckled.

“Barely. I picked up a bottle of wine on the way home. If I had a corkscrew with me I would have considered popping it open on the interstate.”

“Bad girl. You know, if you needed to relax you could have just called me.”

“I know. I would have, too, if I had the energy to get off my couch.”

“I make house calls, you know. I could be there in fifteen minutes.”

She hesitated. I could tell she was struggling with it.

“Okay, okay,” I said. “Not tonight. But I did have something I want to ask you.”

“Really? What is it?”

“You know I have this press thing I have to do, right? It’s this tour we go on to drum up excitement for the fight. We hit the big cities and hold a press conference in each. New York, Los Angeles, Miami, you know, the big ones.”

“Wow, that sounds crazy,” she said.

“Yeah, well, it’s a whirlwind. This guy I’m fighting isn’t too bright so I’ll have to sell the fight pretty hard. I mean, there’s already a ton of interest. The people have been wanting us to fight for years… But I think I can’t put it over the top by talking a lot of shit. Make it a grudge match, you know?”

“I guess so. But won’t that make people hate you? Won’t they think you’re a jerk?”

“The fans eat that stuff up. They’ll love having a fighter they can get behind. The more polarizing you can be, the better. Some people will hate me but a lot more will
love
me. This is how you play the game…”

“Oh…”

“You don’t really know what to think of all this do you?”

“I guess not,” she said. “I’ve been reading a lot about it though. MMA is blowing up. There are a ton of articles about you online.”

“That’s the point. The more people we can get talking, the better. We’re aiming to set a record for the number of pay-per-views this time. And that equals more money in my pocket.”

“So, you get paid by the number of people who watch?”

“Something like that. Anyway, about that press tour… I was wondering if you could make the time to go with me.”

“What? Travel with you while you do your interviews?”

“That’s what I’m asking.”

“Are you messing with me?”

“Nope. You could hang out in the room during the day, go to the spa or whatever, and then at night we could hit the town. Go to all the best night spots in each city. What do you say?”

“Luke, I don’t… I couldn’t possibly get away from work. Not on such short notice.”

“Last I checked nobody has you shackled to a desk. You can do anything you want in life. You just have to make the decision to do it.”

“But my boss… he didn’t even want to let me off for my birthday last year. And that was after I asked him about it a month in advance. What do you think he’s going to say when I tell him I want to take off to go party across the country for two weeks?”

“He’ll have to deal with it,” I said.

“He’ll shit a brick is what he’ll do. Then he’ll tell me to start looking for a new job.”

“Then that’s what you do. If it goes down that way, then fine. You’re too valuable to be stagnating in that building anyway. You just have to be confident about it when you talk to him. Let him know what’s up, and if he’s not willing to compromise then you walk.”

“Easy for you to say. I don’t have millions sitting in my bank account to fall back on.”

“But you do have all the brains in the world. You can get a job anywhere you want. Why not take a chance?”

“I…”

“Let this be the thing that gives you a kick in the ass. Come with me and have a great time for a couple of weeks, then get back here and get serious about taking that bar exam. And you never know, maybe your boss will surprise you and say yes. I’d bet my paycheck that he does. He’s not going to want to lose you.”

“You’re really persuasive when you want to be,” she said.

“I didn’t always get paid to fight. I used to sell real estate.”

“Bullshit.”

“Yep. I did it for almost a year. Got pretty good at it, too.”

“I can’t imagine you driving around neighborhoods with picky couples trying to be all happy and positive.”

“You do what you have to do when you’re trying to eat. Sling houses all day, train all night. That was my motto.”

She giggled into the phone. I let her go. I didn’t mind owning my past.

“Okay,” she sighed. “I’ll ask. It couldn’t hurt to ask.”

“No. I want you to tell him you going. If he’s not good with it, then you leave. You decide your future, not
him
.”

“Right now it sounds like
you
are deciding my future.”

“Hey, I know what’s good for you and don’t you forget it.”

“Yeah,” she said sarcastically. “I should follow the career advice of a superstar martial artist. What could go wrong with that?

“You live in my world, now,” I said. “And if you fall, I’ll catch you.”

There was a long pause.

“Okay. Screw it,” she said. “I’ll tell him tomorrow morning. When do we leave?”