An EGO To Match (Unlikely Matches Book 2)

by Gabrielle Snow

  Knowing Betsy too well, I only smiled and watched her while she ranted on about me getting a new PA, and the kind of PA I got. When Sarah walked out of my office, I watched her go thinking she was leaving to give Betsy and I time to talk, and so I didn't bother to call her back.

  After Sarah left, I had a discussion with Betsy.

  "Betsy, we need to talk. Sit down." I said and motioned at the chair.

  "Yes, we definitely have to! What was that, Michael? You should know better than falling for the antics of these young girls. They are only interested in your money!" She screamed, taking over my own conversation.

  "She's not that kind of a girl, Betsy. She has her own money, I assure you, she isn't interested in mine," I countered.

  "You can never be too sure, Mike. And you of all people should know that work relationships never end well!"

  "But I like Sarah, Betsy. I really, really like her. She isn't just another game, and I don't intend to put whatever is going on between us to an end anytime soon."

  Betsy’s mouth opened from my words. "Oh wow. This is so surprising.” She shook her head slightly before giving me an encouraging smile. “I am so happy for you, Mike. This is such great news!" Betsy said and came around the table to hug me. "I am so sorry for how I spoke earlier." I could tell she meant it from the regretful expression on her face.

  "It's fine. Your reaction was totally understandable and expected." I said and let out a chuckle. I was known as the playboy billionaire after all.

  We went on catching up on other things, and it was a long while before she finally left. I decided to see her out to the outer office and use the opportunity to talk to Sarah, and I was shocked to see her desk empty. The silver lining was that Betsy promised to show up at the office the next day to apologize in person to Sarah.

  IT HAD BEEN NINE DAYS since I had last seen Sarah at the office. The day after the incident with Betsy, I had called her repeatedly to no avail. I had sent several messages explaining what had happened, none of which she replied to. Then, when I had thought that things couldn’t get any worse, I had received an email from her, stating her resignation. Deeply shocked and confused as to what to do, I decided to let her be, thinking she would eventually change her mind, but days passed, and I still heard nothing from her.

  A few days into radio silence I got so angry, asking myself who exactly she thought she was for doing something like this. But my anger turned out to be short lived: soon enough it was replaced by a terrible ache and emptiness within me. I missed her so much that I started seeing her face in every woman I walked past. But I had never begged a lady in my life, and I proudly resisted every urge to begin with her.

  SARAH.

  It was a random weekday, and I was home, just like I had been every day for the past twelve days. The longest twelve days of my life since the incident at Michael's office. After walking out of the building that day, I had headed straight to Dee's, where I had broken down in tears and babbled uncontrollably to a patient and understanding Dee. I’d never thought I'd get my heart broken in less than a month, and in no control of my emotions, I cried more than I ever had in my life. During the early stages of my heartbreak, I had been so mad at him that I had refused to pick his calls, deleted his messages as soon as they came in, and avoided even the thought of him. Then, the day after the incident, I had sent my resignation letter to his email.

  However, as the days rolled into nights and nights rolled into days, I found myself missing him badly. So many times, I picked up my phone to dial his number, aching to hear his deep voice, but every single time I dropped the call before it rang and went on to weep instead. Mom and dad were out of town, and their absence gave me a chance to grieve in peace, which I believed was the best way to grieve. The only things I managed to do every day was to get out of bed way past noon, shower, go down to the kitchen to fix something to eat, and spend the rest of the day browsing the internet or reading a book.

  On this day, I had just placed a pot of soup on the stove when I heard a knock on the door. I walked out of the kitchen to open it, expecting it to be Dee, who had showed up every single day to check up on me to ensure I remembered to eat and stayed sane. I stopped dead in my tracks just a few feet from the door as I came to the realization that it wasn't Dee. I could smell him before I even saw him through the peephole, and my stomach immediately did about seven somersaults.

  At first, I was shocked, wondering what he was doing here in front of my door. But after a few seconds, my shock turned to joy at seeing him, and after another few seconds, my happiness turned to anger, raw and hot at his guts to show up at my doorstep. Taking a while to collect myself, and again in control of my emotions, I opened the door to a smiling Michael. He was dressed in a white T-shirt and blue jeans and looked so handsome that I felt a sharp pang in my heart. Then I turned and led him into the living room and offered him a seat before taking one at the opposite end of the room, as far away from him as possible.

  Chapter 7

  MICHAEL.

  No amount of preparation could have steeled me enough for the sight that was before me when the door opened. Sarah was standing there dressed in a short light gown and looking like a Disney princess. My breath had immediately caught in my throat and it was all I could do to not reach out to enfold her in my arms. The past few weeks had fully convinced me that I was inescapably in love with her, and I had woken up that morning with my mind fully made up to do something about the ache and emptiness I felt within me. As I knocked on the large wooden door, I prayed silently that I wasn't too late to do what I was about to do. Then, she had opened up and led me on into the house without a word, and after we sat, fixed me with a "what are you doing here" stare. My heart pumped faster.

  "Sarah," I began, "before I say anything else I want to tell you how sincerely sorry I am for everything that Betsy said, and for not defending you when she said all those things. I had no idea what I was doing was wrong.” I took a moment to pause and put my thoughts in order before continuing. "I have missed you so much. These past few days have been hell without you. The more I tried to convince myself that I could do without you, the more I found myself wanting and longing for you in a way I never imagined possible. I have realized how incomplete I am without you, Sarah, and I want you back in my life." I concluded, standing to my feet.

  "Why exactly are you here, Michael?" She asked with a shaky voice, her dark eyes glistening with tears waiting to erupt down her cheeks.

  "To offer you back your job," I replied with a shy smile, walking towards where she was sitting.

  "Okay. And is that all you're here to offer?" She asked, looking up at me as I stopped right in front of her.

  My heart was beating at a very abnormal rate at what I was about to do, but I knew deep within me that I was in love with her.

  "And to offer you my heart, if you would have it," I said, and going down on one knee, I reached into my back pocket and brought out the small box that I had put in there before I’d left my home. Looking up into her chocolate-colored teary eyes, I undid the ribbon tied around it and opened up the box.

  SARAH.

  The ring I was looking at was the most beautiful I had ever seen in my life, and I couldn't believe my eyes as I gazed on, open-mouthed, and dumbfounded. We’d sat down, and Michael had launched into a speech that set fire to and melted my insides, and then all of a sudden, he’d stood up and came and knelt before me, making me confused as hell. But when he brought out the cute little box with the pink ribbon tied around it, the air in my lungs turned to lead, and hot tears jumped to my eyes and threatened to flow down.

  "I am so in love with you, Sarah, marry me please," He said with dazzling green eyes. Too stunned to talk, I nodded my head vigorously, making the beams of water in my eyes roll down my face freely. He picked up my left hand from where it rested in my lap and slipped the ring into my ring finger in one swift movement.

  Pulling me up, he folded me into his arms in a loving embrace, up close a
gainst him, and as his strong masculine smell filled my lungs, I knew I was home with the man I loved. We stayed like that until the odor of something burning invaded our nostrils at about the same time and cut short our moment of reverie. I ran to the kitchen, turned off the cooker, and checked the soup; it was too burnt to be salvaged, but it was a small price to pay for love, I thought as I smiled to myself.

  This time, I heard him before I felt him. "Why is my little angel smiling?"

  Turning around, I smiled up into his beautiful face and replied, "Because you have made her the happiest woman on earth."

  "Just as you have made me the proudest on Earth," He said as he circled behind me and nibbled on the tip of my ears, upsetting the butterflies in my tummy. His hands slid around my waist, rested them on my belly, and bit down into the skin of my neck. I let out a surprised gasp as a wave of pleasure ran through me, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

  "How about we take this party to somewhere more comfortable,” he said and, without waiting for an answer, scooped a giggling me into his arms and walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs to my bedroom.

  THE END.

  I hope you enjoyed reading this book. Check out the other books in this series from here. You can read the first two chapters for free below!

  PREVIEW OF KNOCKOUT

  UNLIKELY MATCHES BOOK ONE

  DESCRIPTION

  CONNOR

  I’ve always believed that through hard work and dedication, everything is possible.

  Doing things the right way.

  Putting my career first.

  Playing it safe.

  But when she walks through the door, I am in trouble.

  Azaria Gonzalez is unlike any other woman I’ve ever met.

  Fearless, enigmatic and thrilling.

  A fighter in all meanings of the word.

  Someone who can stand her ground.

  Miss Warrior.

  Not to mention that her body is reminiscent of a sculpture of an ancient Greek Goddess.

  And I find myself craving more.

  For the first time in my life, I feel like jumping at the deep end.

  Living my life to the fullest.

  Taking a chance.

  Is she the missing piece to the puzzle that is my life?

  And is it possible for two opposites to come together?

  Chapter 1

  AZARIA.

  “COME ON, RAFFY. BE quick on it. Use. Your. Speed!” I hollered from the corner of the ring as my seven-year-old trainees, Rafael and José, grappled for victory during their juniors’ MMA practice.

  “That’s it... and we’re done!” I excitedly announced. “Get off him now.” I patted Rafael on the back in an attempt to ease his disappointment from losing.

  “I should’ve grabbed his neck when I had the chance.” He shook his head, lightheartedly shaking José’s hand.

  “You wish,” José gloated with a big, victorious smile as he lifted up his chin.

  “Remember that next time you’re here.” I winked at Rafael. “Adios now.” I ruffled José’s black hair before both boys left the ring. “Kiss yo’ mamas for me.”

  “Thanks, Coach.” Rafael waved goodbye as they both walked out of the studio.

  Taking a deep breath, I began to pull the wraps from around my wrists as I marched toward the showers, nodding the occasional salute to my colleagues of trainers and attendants.

  Feeling lucky that the bathrooms were empty at that moment, I let out a long exhale while mechanically undressing. As I stepped into the shower, my hand pulled the faucet knob, letting the hot water pour over my head and body, loosening up my sore shoulder.

  This shoulder.

  I closed my eyes, the agony in my mind surpassing the pain of my injured joint.

  My thoughts went back to when I was twenty-seven, with possibly a decade of fighting still ahead of me. I remembered that fateful night when my entire career collapsed in an instant.

  Images of my relentless opponent vividly came surging on the insides of my tightly shut eyelids. For a moment, I could hear the crowds screams and smell the blood and sweat that had soaked into the ring.

  In one swift tackle toward the end of the match, I got a lock on my arm and dislocated my shoulder, tearing ligaments to a point of no repair.

  Well, almost.

  It was serious enough to force me to retire, losing all prospective for a real future in the realm of MMA fighting.

  One moment. One wrong move. And the future was bleak.

  That was two years ago.

  In my book, my current job sounded like one for those who could not do any better. Who lost their focus and had to pay for it. The losers who failed to make the cut.

  Without opening my eyes, I slowly turned around and pressed both palms against the wall, lowering my head as the splashes felt like pins and needles on my toned skin.

  Despite my best efforts, the demons in my mind pushed reflections of what could have been to the forefront, taking the spotlight as my train of thought went south.

  If only you had lived up to your potential, you wouldn’t have had to drag Mamá and Adelaide down with you.

  Because of you, poor Flora can’t afford to retire any time soon, and Addie is stuck scraping by at community college.

  Because.

  Of.

  You.

  Instinctively, my eyelids shot open and the shampoo seeped into my eyes, burning with a sense that I had only deserved it. Quickly blinking, I vigorously rubbed my face with my wet fingers.

  It was time to stop the mental self-flagellation and view things as they were.

  I had been busting my ass off training MMA talents of all ages at the downtown studio. And with the help of my mother’s humble income, I was doing my best to help Adelaide graduate with a college degree and accomplish what I never could.

  Wasn’t that good enough?

  Granted, if I had managed to go to college and get a desk job with a clear ladder to climb, things would have been easier. But dwelling on the past was not going to help me, nor was it going to put food on the table or pay the mounting bills.

  Angry at myself for, once again, letting my mind fall prey to self-deprecating deliberations, I clenched my jaws and reached out of the stall, violently pulling the towel.

  As I dutifully dried myself, carefully massaging my shoulder, I renewed old vows to myself to try and see things in a positive light. Nobody was perfect, and I was doing the best I could, given the circumstances.

  I got dressed with a reminder that I should be grateful to have a job at all. People like me easily fell through the cracks of unfair life every day, ending up with a prescription drug dependency from old injuries and loans that threaten to leave them on the streets.

  At least I had a sound head on my shoulders. Even if one of them was perpetually flawed.

  Walking home from the studio, I secured my trusty earphones in place as I always did while my steps covered the few blocks to our apartment building. Latin rap blasted into my soul while I knowingly mouthed the words, drawing in deep breaths as I watched the city bustle around me at sunset.

  The downtown block where I lived was nothing fancy, but it was home. Kids all around ran with their basketballs and scooters, smiling as I passed them by.

  We all knew each other’s faces around here.

  The eclectic assortment of residents always made me feel at ease. Modest people from all backgrounds and walks of life had assembled in that small, cozy spot to form a tight community of friends and accidental family.

  “Hey, Jamil.” I nodded to the friendly man who owned a little grocery shop downstairs before stepping in through the building gate and racing upstairs, looking forward to dinner with the family.

  As I slid the key into the door, I thought I heard a woman crying and figured it must have been a loud television somewhere.

  When I pushed the door open, my eyes immediately landed on Addie’s shrunken figure on the floor, hunched over something I could
n’t see.

  “Pollito!” I tossed the backpack onto a chair and launched forward. “What is it?”

  As my vantage point changed, I saw Tyson, our pit-bull, lying quietly on the cold tiles and refusing to move. His big eyes wandered about aimlessly like he had no reason to ever get up.

  “Dios mío, he hasn’t moved all day!” Addie regarded me with teary eyes. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. Is he dying, Aza?”

  My heart immediately dropped, but now was not the time to show vulnerability or scare my sister. This was just another moment for me to step up to the plate.

  “C’mon.” Scared beyond words, my hands carefully began to hold Tyson and he let out a brief whine, worrying me even more. “We gotta take him to the vet.” I turned to Addie who was frantically rummaging through her bag.

  “Addie? Carrier, now!” I urged.

  “Vale, vale!” she exhaled, quickly getting up and grabbing the crate.

  As soon as she brought it over, I gently lifted Tyson who did not attempt to cooperate, not even in the slightest. He left his whole body limp in my hands as I gradually sat him down in the crate and closed it without any objections from his side.

  What is wrong with him?

  My heart began to race.

  That was when Flora came out of the shower.

  “Qué tienes?” She dried her hair with a towel. “Where are you taking him?”

  “Tyson’s really sick,” Addie whined from between strained breaths.

  “No,” she drew it out, tilting her head as she approached. “Maybe just tired?”