by Harlow James
Ten years—could it really have been that long since I last seethed at the image of her and her friends across campus as she conversed with her crew of varsity athletes and ASB leaders? The disdain I felt for those people comes back full force as I remember how they always looked down on kids like me—the ones from the other side of town that would never compare to them monetarily or otherwise. Honestly though, I don’t remember much of the last few months of senior year due to inebriation and being stoned out of my mind most days. I wasn’t the most academically devoted student if you catch my drift, but I did enough work to get by and graduate.
Shifting back to our run-in Saturday night, it was rewarding to catch someone like her off her game, throw a wrench into her world where people probably worship the ground she walks on and bow at her feet still. The woman probably doesn’t even know what it means to struggle, to have to choose between freedom and living up to a vow your family engrained in you from birth. Last I heard she went off to college at her parent’s alma mater, but I have no idea what she’s up to now. I did lose two years of my life in prison, so I wasn’t exactly keeping up with town gossip. My sister could probably fill in those details for me if I asked though, given how many clients from that world come through her salon.
“Javi. There’s a new client coming in twenty minutes for the self-defense class. Here’s the paperwork I need her to fill out before she begins.” Andre comes down the hallway where the storage closets and his office are located, handing me a packet of forms all new members must complete before using the facilities.
“Sure.” I grab the papers and set them in front of me as I log into the computer and make note of how many people signed up for the three evening sessions we offer. Since I work construction during the day, I come in here from six to nine two nights a week, leading a few HIIT classes and the self-defense class we offer for women. After my sister’s incident, she begged Andre to add a class specifically for women to the roster. It helped her gain some confidence back as well as she healed from her ordeal, and now she recommends it to every woman she can. We not only teach women how to protect themselves when faced with an attacker, but we use it as an exercise course as well to help them work on their strength. It’s a four-week-long course and almost every woman who’s taken it all the way through leaves with a renewed sense of confidence.
“Hey, baby.” My sister stalks up to Andre, planting a kiss on his mouth and then taking it to a level that is more appropriate in private.
“Why the fuck must you two do that shit in front of me?” I shoot them a glare of disgust and then rise, reaching for my gloves and water bottle.
“Newsflash, stupid. We’re married. Kissing is mild compared to what else we do behind closed doors,” she chides and I feel my blood pressure rise as well as my stomach churn.
“Fuck, Selena. Don’t say shit like that. I’ve learned to accept the two of you, but that doesn’t mean I want to hear about it.”
“Babe. Don’t give your brother a reason to brawl with me, okay? It’s not gonna end well for him.” Andre flashes a cocky smile my way as I stand and stride up to him, our chests mere inches apart, our eyes locking in a stand down. The guy is practically my brother, but that doesn’t mean I won’t knock him out if I need to.
“You wanna put your money where your mouth is, Andre? Wanna go toe-to-toe with me? Don’t make me show you up in front of your woman.” I challenge him with my words, even though I know this is just part of who we are. Andre and I used to wrestle and beat the shit out of each other when we were younger, but it never was out of spite. The one time we did almost go to blows was when he left my sister alone at that party, the night my entire life changed. The guilt he carried around from that night though was enough of a punishment for him, I felt, so I never pounded his face in like I felt he deserved. He left to fuck some girl that was making her way around our group of friends, but in doing so, left Selena exposed to Jesus.
“Ay, Dios Mio! Would you two knock it off? You’re acting like a bunch of niños up in here.”
Andre and I continue our stare down before he finally cracks, barreling over in laughter. “Aw, man. You know we’d probably both knock each other out in the same punch if it ever went to blows. But seriously, what’s got your panties in a wad?”
“Speak for yourself,” I say with a smirk and ignore his last observation that I’m on edge, grateful that I can mess around with my best friend like that and go back to normal in the next breath. Although, I think that’s just a man thing in general.
A throat clearing behind us snaps us out of our interaction as we turn to take in the person who interrupted our conversation. And then my stomach drops as a wave of confusion barrels through me.
“What the fuck?” I ask in a high-pitched voice I don’t even recognize. I can hear Andre snicker behind me before Selena elbows him in the ribs and he coughs from the impact.
Sydney Matthews is standing in front of me like a ghost I can’t shake. What the fuck is she doing here?
Andre steps forward, breaking the awkwardness that just built between the four of us. I can see my sister sizing Sydney up, taking in the woman that sticks out like a sore thumb in this gym.
“Hi. I’m Andre. The owner. It’s nice to meet you, Sydney.” He reaches out his hand to shake hers, but her eyes are still locked on me, growing wider in each passing second.
Finally she shakes off her reaction and then gives her full attention to him.
“Likewise. I, uh …” she stammers, looking off to the side of the room before continuing. My eyes follow her line of sight as the row of leather bags hang from the ceiling, swaying slightly from the flow of air conditioning in the room. One bag is being wailed on by a guy training for his first amateur fight, while the rest of the room is occupied by the group that came in for the free-style session at five. “I’m sorry. I’m here for the self-defense class. I signed up online, but it said to arrive fifteen minutes early to fill out the paperwork.”
“Yes. Javi here has your papers.” Andre turns to me, but my eyes are still laser focused on the woman standing in front of me. I honestly thought that running into her at The Jameson was just a fluke, but now that she’s standing here, decked out in bright pink spandex and her long hair pulled up off her neck, the satisfaction I got from our serendipitous run-in is short-lived when I realize she’s going to be training here at the gym, in my fucking class.
Before I got out of prison, Andre taught the self-defense class. But since I came on a few months ago, he’s passed the reins to me. Part of the reason why I work here now is so he can leave early a few nights a week to spend time with my sister. Most of his classes and clients come in the morning, and besides, I feel obligated to help him for his generosity in letting me stay at their house and for looking after my sister while I was doing my time.
“What?” I finally snap out of my mental breakdown, ruminating over the fact that I’m letting this woman’s presence derail me.
Selena chuckles under her breath as Andre narrows his eyes at me in confusion. “The paperwork? The forms Miss Matthews needs to fill out before she starts the class?”
“Oh. Yes. Um, here they are.” I twist around and lean over the counter to snatch up the papers and end up shoving them at her as I face her.
“Thanks,” she says as she takes a step back, eyeing me suspiciously.
“You sure you’re up for this, Princess? You might have to get a little dirty.” I pull out a smirk to cover up the fact that seeing her has clearly rattled me. But why is still the question I’m having trouble answering.
Suddenly the nerves I felt from her before disappear as her spine straightens and she glares at me. “Stop calling me Princess. I have a name.”
“As do I.”
“I’m aware, Javier.” My name rolls off her tongue like butter that’s been laced with a jalapeno—smooth, yet fiery, packing a punch that you don’t ever anticipate. Her acknowledgment that she in fact does know me threatens to throw me of
f balance again, but then I realize that Andre actually said my name earlier.
A bought of silence builds again as Andre and Selena study the interaction between Sydney and me. I can feel my sister’s eyes tracking my movements as I twist the lid off of my water bottle and bring it to my lips for a sip, never breaking eye contact with Sydney.
“Well, as much as I would love to sit here and watch you two glower at each other for an hour, this little lady is tired,” Selena interjects, cutting through the tension long enough for Sydney to turn around finally and take a seat at one of the chairs by the door to fill out her paperwork. Her eyes flip up to me for a second before she dives in and her hand flies across the paper.
“Fucking Christ.” I turn and start heading back to the break room, removing my hat, and running my fingers through my hair in frustration.
“You gonna be able to handle this?” Andre comes in behind me a moment later as I turn to face him.
“Of course.”
“Really? Because you sure as fuck don’t look like it right now?”
“Why do you say that?”
He scoffs. “Javi, I’ve known you for basically our entire lives. Say what you want, but that girl being here seemed to knock you off balance and I’m not sure why. Why does it matter if she’s training here? Did seeing her last weekend stir up some unrequited feelings you had for her back in high school or some shit?” He eyes me as I pace back in forth in front of the small futon stationed up against the wall.
I blow out an exaggerated breath. “Get fucking real, Andre. Sydney Matthews is the last woman I’d want, alright? She’s from an entirely different world than ours …”
“Meaning …”
“Meaning she doesn’t belong here.”
Andre continues to track my movements as he lifts his brow. “Seems to me like you have some very one-sided opinions about who deserves to be able to defend themselves or not.”
And with those words, my anger and shoulders drop drastically. “Shit …”
“Yeah, shit. There’s a reason she’s here, Javi. And whether you like it or not, our job is to give her skills to build her confidence. Who knows who she is now compared to when we knew her. I hired you to do a job and I expect you to do it.”
I shake my head at him before righting my hat back on my head and inhaling deeply to bring my blood pressure back to normal. I shouldn’t be this fired up at the thought of a prospective client, but I guess people like Sydney Matthews get under my skin and I don’t know how to fight that. “Fine. But I’m not going to go easy on her.”
He throws his hands up in the air. “I didn’t say that you should. But you owe her what she’s paying for and what she came here for.” He eyes the clock. “Class starts in two minutes and I’m taking off because I owe your sister a nice meal.”
“Fucker,” I mutter under my breath as I walk past him and the echo of his laugh follows me back out to the front. By now, five other women have shown up, three returning and two new ones besides Sydney. This should make for a fun class.
“Here,” Sydney says as she comes over to me and hands me the clipboard with her completed forms.
I place them on the counter and then turn back around to face the group, ignoring her completely. “Good evening, ladies. You all ready to kick some ass?”
That comment sparks some laughter from the group, but Sydney remains stoic, a side of her I don’t recall seeing in the past. You can tell she’s nervous, but I can’t be bothered to coddle her right now. I have five other women who need my attention more than the prissy princess that thinks she owns half the town.
“Alright. Let’s move into the room.” I wave my hand and guide them to the other side of the gym to a room full of mats made for throwing people down on, all the while wondering what the hell I just got myself into.
Chapter 7
Sydney
What an ass, I think as I catch myself staring across my office, lost in thought for the hundredth time today. If I keep this up, I’ll definitely have to bring more work home with me tonight.
Visions of Javier’s biceps bulging as his hands ricocheted off the punching bags at the gym seep behind my eyelids once again, blinding me from the crass attitude he showed me the rest of my first self-defense class. But the memory of his perma-scowl is etched there too, reminding me that he clearly wasn’t letting the drink spilling incident go.
Never did I think I would run into the man again, especially after I realized who he was the next morning with Ally. But seeing him in the flesh, his sculpted and powerful body moving around while teaching us techniques to strengthen our bodies and our confidence threw me for a loop more than I care to admit. A war is raging in my mind whether to return to the gym again tomorrow night or give in to my father’s request to let one of his men train me since I’m not sure if being around Javi is a good idea given his reaction to me.
“Hey, boss,” Tessa sings as she knocks on my door once she enters my office, pulling me back to reality.
“Hey. What’s up?” I sit up taller in my chair and begin moving forms back into the folder in front of me. This file is ready for signatures, which means I can move onto the next.
“There’s a delivery for you.”
“Really?” I perk up in my chair, wondering why someone would be sending me something on a Wednesday. It’s not my birthday and I’m as single as a woman can be, so I’m not sure what to expect.
Tessa leaves and then returns with a crystal vase full of pink roses and twigs of baby’s breath. “They are so gorgeous,” she croons as I stand from my chair and intercept them.
“They are beautiful,” I agree, setting them down on my desk but then mentally chastising this person because if they truly knew me, they’d know that my favorite roses are red. I search the arrangement for a card and find one easily. Pulling the cardstock from the envelope, my eyes search the note for my admirer’s identity, but my entire body deflates as I find the missing piece of information.
Sydney,
Please accept these roses as a token of my interest in you. Your father had expressed that you’d be willing to have dinner with me sometime to discuss our future. I look forward to it.
Andrew
“Ugh,” I spit as I toss the card in the trash and then return to my chair.
“I’m guessing that these aren’t from someone you wanted them to be from?” Tessa bites her thumbnail, a nervous tick of hers that I’ve become accustomed to.
“Not at all. They’re from Andrew Benton.”
Her nose scrunches up instantly at that information. “Ew. Gross.”
“Exactly.”
“I’ve only met him once, but the stench of his cologne lingered in the hallways for days after he left. Why is he sending you flowers?”
I stare out the window, my blood boiling beneath the surface. “My father seems to think we’d be the perfect match made in heaven. We come from the same circle and he’s hell bent on setting us up.”
“And you’re not interested?”
I shake my head quickly. “Not at all! I can barely stand the guy, do not find him attractive whatsoever, and because my father wants us to be together, it makes me want to retaliate even more. I know it sounds so ‘papa don’t preach’, but it’s the truth.”
Tessa nods as if she understands my rant completely. “Okay, note to self. No deliveries from Andrew will be accepted any longer.” She mock salutes me and then turns to leave, but stops short to drop a few more words. “For what it’s worth, I admire you standing up to your dad. I wish I had that type of confidence.” She flashes me a polite smile and then returns to her office two doors down.
I sigh, leaning back in my chair again, stewing on her words. If Tessa only knew the conflict I go through trying to live up to his expectations so I don’t seem ungrateful for everything he’s given me while also trying to loosen the leash I feel he’s tied around my neck.
If my mother had never met my father, who knows what my childhood would have loo
ked like, a detail that she likes to remind me of in private on numerous occasions. Even at dinner last week after the lunch I stormed out of with my father, my mother pulled me aside and reminded me that we’ve experienced privilege because of him and the least I could do is respect his need to protect me and want what’s best for me.
But that’s just the thing—it’s what he thinks is best, with no opportunity to express what I want.
My mom was barely surviving working two waitressing jobs when she met my father as a customer at the small diner she worked at during the day. He was caught off guard by her beauty, but the sadness in her eyes is what pulled him in. When he offered to take her out for a decent meal, she thought he couldn’t possibly want a woman like her, but he was relentless. Before she knew it, she was attending social events decked out in designer gowns and he put a blinding diamond ring on her finger. I have never doubted that my father loves my mother, and don’t consider him the type of man that would ever use his fists to control a woman, given his job and the scum he sees in and out of his courtroom on a daily basis. But he does like people to do what he says, which can be downright irritating at times.
So while bending to his wishes and running to him for help is exactly what he’d want and what I was leaning toward earlier, Tessa’s words struck a chord with me. If I want him to respect me and my wishes for my own life, I have to stand my ground firmly this time, which means going back to Elite tomorrow night and facing the intensity of Javier Montes, even if that means having to stand up to him too.
I shuffle papers around on my desk and get back to work, throwing myself into the estate planning of Mr. Nickson before my stomach growls and alerts me that I haven’t eaten since I downed my protein shake earlier.
“Tessa, I need to get out of my office for a bit. I’m going to grab lunch from Russo’s. Do you want anything?”