by Ranae Rose
Zoe smiled obligingly, even though her stomach was full of butterflies. The fluttery feeling in her middle only increased when she felt an arm slip around her shoulders. She didn’t have to look up to know it was Noah’s. Weeks of living with him had familiarized her with his smell – the crisp scent of laundry detergent clinging to his shirt, the aroma of his preferred soap on his skin. She knew it all well.
“That’s a great one.” Karen lowered her camera.
“Make sure you send me a copy,” Noah said.
“Don’t worry. I’ll send all the good photos. And there are going to be a lot.”
Andy had hired Karen, Jed’s long-term girlfriend, as the official event photographer, per Zoe’s recommendation. Karen had been ecstatic and had thanked Zoe at least a million times since then. Now, she zipped around the building, snapping photos of everything and everyone. The fights hadn’t even started yet, and she’d probably already taken hundreds of photos.
In the third row of seating, Jed – Karen’s unofficial assistant – sat with a large pack that presumably contained lots of extra batteries and memory cards. Probably an assortment of extra cameras, specialized lenses and other equipment too, knowing Karen.
“I think it’s safe to say we’re getting our money’s worth when it comes to the photos,” Noah said as Karen strode purposefully toward Jay and Darrin, who were looking official, lost in deep conversation near one corner of the ring. Karen’s auburn ponytail whirled as she shifted her weight from foot to foot, hopping a little as she positioned herself to capture images. She moved with surprising speed when she was behind the lens, like a cheetah determined not to let its prey – aka her photo subjects – escape.
“Trust me,” Zoe said. “You are. I wouldn’t have recommended her otherwise. She’s the best.”
The building already felt busy, and the doors weren’t even open to the general public yet. Some of the necessary event officials had already arrived – she could see the referee, announcer and time keeper from where she stood. Emergency medical personnel were hauling some equipment to the ringside, just in case. Several representatives from companies sponsoring the event were present too, most already settled in front row seats, filling the room with talk that echoed, words blending together.
The venue was going to get loud and crowded. Zoe could feel it. It would be perfect.
Sure enough, the moment the doors were opened, the place filled with noise and a general air of excitement. Best of all, some of the first people to walk in were familiar faces.
Zoe waved to Abby, Sam, Tyler and Mallory, who filed in together, tickets in hand. “Hey guys.”
“Hey.” Abby smiled. “Mina, Eric and James will be on their way in about an hour. They’ll miss some of the fights, but it’s the best they could do – they’re with clients now and have to close up shop.”
“I’m just excited that everyone is able to come,” Zoe said, meaning it. When she’d invited the staff at Hot Ink, she’d figured maybe a couple would actually show up. Everyone had bought a ticket though, and Abby and Tyler had even brought their significant others. “I wonder how many clients we’ll see tonight?”
“Probably quite a few,” Tyler said. “A lot of them have been taking those flyers you put out on the counter.”
Zoe smiled. She’d gotten permission from Jed to hang a poster advertising tonight’s fights on the wall behind the counter, and had set out a stack of little flyers with all the details. She hadn’t mentioned that to Noah – it’d been a last-minute idea she’d had a week ago, and she hadn’t been sure what kind of response, if any, it would garner.
But as time went on and spectators continued to file in, she recognized more than a few of them. With pride, she watched Hot Ink clients dot the seats, which were quickly filling.
Noah must’ve noticed her talking to the familiar faces as they walked in. She explained the poster and flyers she’d put up inside Hot Ink, and he seemed genuinely surprised. “You got all these people to buy tickets? I’d better watch out, or Jay will try to give you my job and demote me to receptionist.” He grinned.
The sight of his smile made her smile too. Over the past couple of hours, he’d obviously been on edge. And she suspected that he’d hardly slept the night before. Of course, they’d found alternative ways to spend some of that time in bed, to expend his restless energy…
“I’d come visit you at your desk. I might even bring chocolates,” she teased.
“Good to know.” He leaned down, brushing a kiss across her temple.
The unexpected sign of affection sent heat blazing through her, even though it had been a chaste kiss, especially compared to how they’d spent much of the night before. From the corner of her eye, she saw Abby watching from where the Hot Ink group was seated, and Jay, too, from near the ring. The heat Noah’s kiss had inspired migrated to her cheeks, though she couldn’t help but smile.
“First bout starts in twenty minutes. You’re going to sit with us, right?”
Elite East had a special front row seating area. “Sure.” There, she’d be able to see all the fights clearly – including Paul’s. Whether he won or lost, she’d have a front row seat. Already, butterflies tore through her middle, reminding her of Azalea and fueling hope she tried not to let get out of control.
CHAPTER 10
“So how did your visit with your dad go?” Britney asked as she sat poised on the edge of her chair next to Zoe.
They’d had an extra seat in the reserved Elite East area and Noah had invited her to sit with them.
“Good, in a way,” Zoe said, sharing Britney’s nervousness as they waited for Paul’s match to begin. Paul would be competing with another welterweight opponent, and they’d already watched the lighter weight classes’ rounds. The bouts of the opening event were plentiful but short.
Those who won their matches tonight would move on to the next phase, and by the time the last event would be held at the Consol, the matches there would be title fights only. A title fight for each weight division, each offering a serious cash prize. Noah and the other Elite East guys thought the championship’s simple tournament structure offered the purest form of competition there was, and that that would attract a large and interested audience.
So far, it seemed they were right – the venue they’d chosen for the night was packed.
Of course, all the fighters who were competing that night were licensed by the state – a Pennsylvania requirement. They all had experience, too – some more than others. Zoe had made enough copies of the scheduled bouts to know that some fighters had come from far away to compete, and that more than a few had impressive records.
Including the guy Paul would be fighting. Clasping her hands together in her lap, she glanced over at Britney. “Dad was talking,” she said quietly, aware that no one else was listening – Noah had stepped away momentarily to speak to an official – but feeling the urge to speak softly anyway. “He was really confused, though. At one point, he thought I was mom.”
Britney gave her a sympathetic look and nodded. “What about that stickler from billing? Did she give you any trouble?”
Zoe shook her head. “I didn’t even see her. Nobody said anything. Anyway, I got paid today. I’m about to submit the biggest bill payment I’ve been able to make in a while.”
“I just got paid too,” Britney said. “Let me contribute before you write out the check. And Paul – he has the prize money from that fight in Philly.”
Zoe nodded, leaning back in her chair and bumping into something – someone.
Noah was back. Swallowing a knot that had formed suddenly in her throat, she glanced at him, then stared resolutely ahead at the ring. Had he overheard her conversation with Britney? Hopefully not. The thought of him knowing about her money troubles was embarrassing – like the Sugar Panda debacle all over again.
She opened her mouth to say something, but her greeting died on the tip of her tongue as a cheer went up from the crowd.
Paul was wal
king out. So was his opponent. Britney grabbed one of Zoe’s hands and squeezed, practically crushing her fingers.
“Sorry,” Britney said when Zoe met her eyes. “I always get nervous when I watch him fight. And this time – he’s so invested in this. He’s been training so hard. I want him to win so bad it hurts.”
Zoe knew what Britney meant. Whether or not Paul made it to the title rounds, she knew that every step between here and there mattered to him, and not just because of the money. She too felt an ache just beneath her breastbone as Paul was escorted to the cage by his trainer and cornerman.
The other guy looked strong, lean and hard – like the fighter he was. He was remarkably similar in size to Paul, but then, that was the point of the weight classes. Feeling more like she was sitting on pins and needles than a hard rental chair, Zoe watched as the two men entered the cage.
Six sides, and plenty of black chain link. The enclosure was completely up to standards, and completely intimidating in appearance, no matter how many other times Zoe had watched Paul fight in ones just like it. Now that he was in, there would be no emerging until he either won or lost. She could only imagine how nervous he must feel.
Nervous, but not unhappy. The look on his face was intense, focused. He looked like he belonged in the cage, and when the round began, he proved that he did.
His opponent recoiled from the first hit, an aggressive cross that had Paul’s glove colliding with the other man’s face.
Britney cheered.
Zoe clasped her hands together more tightly, too on edge to make a sound as a sense of exultation rose up inside her.
The other fighter wouldn’t be caught the same way twice. He protected himself – especially his face – doggedly, and it was obvious that he was looking for a way to take the fight to the mat. He circled Paul, lunging in for a shoot at one point and narrowly avoiding a knee to the face.
Paul knew how to fight on the ground. He’d been jiu-jitsu-obsessed since his teen years, and he was good at it. But at the moment, he was keeping things on his own terms, and that infused Zoe with a surge of optimism. So far, so good.
The round eventually did end up on the mat, and ended there when time ran out, with no submission. Now Paul’s opponent knew – he was just as competent there as he was on his feet.
The minute between rounds sped by in a blur, and Zoe’s heart leapt into her throat as the two men faced off again.
This time, Paul’s opponent landed the first hit – a kick to the ribs that had to have been agonizing. As Zoe pressed a hand to her own side in empathy, a wave of fear swept over her. Would Paul go down?
No. He kept standing, kept moving – kept fighting.
Beside Zoe, Britney was murmuring under her breath, expression intense. She’d moved so far forward on her seat that her yoga-strengthened thigh muscles had to be the only thing keeping her from toppling onto the floor.
A few more punches were exchanged, and then the fight was taken to the ground again.
This time, it was Paul who swept his opponent, locking him in a tight hold as their bodies hit the mat. Immediately, he went for the other man’s neck.
Unfortunately, his grip was fleeting, and not secure enough to gain a submission. Bodies twisting and tumbling, they struggled for dominance, and Zoe’s heart leapt when Paul snared one of the other man’s arms.
As he bent the limb with expert speed and precision, forcing the hand behind his opponent’s back, she was pretty sure the move was called a kimura. Her MMA knowledge came mostly from the things Paul had explained to her that she’d been able to remember – that and the things she’d heard him yell at the TV during televised matches. Whatever it was, it appeared to be working. The other man’s arm was visibly strained, the shoulder joint suffering as Paul increased pressure.
Zoe glanced toward Noah, unable to help thinking of the scar tissue on his shoulder and how it felt beneath her fingertips. Was it hard for him to watch others fight, knowing he’d never reenter the cage again himself?
If it was, he didn’t let it show. His eyes gleamed as he watched the tension mount, his expression intense, and maybe a little prideful. Since the fights had started, he’d given every impression of being totally absorbed in the event he’d worked so hard to organize, as passionate as even the most hardcore fan. What he’d said to her one rainy day must’ve been true – he didn’t regret hanging up his gloves. Not when it meant running Elite East.
The thought made Zoe happy, and so did the sight of Paul’s opponent striking the mat with his free hand. As he tapped, the referee leapt forward, arms waving.
The fight was over.
Britney leapt up from her chair, bouncing on her toes and cheering. Zoe joined her – she couldn’t resist.
* * * * *
Noah walked into the office late Saturday afternoon, breaking his promise to himself to take the day off in celebration of the previous night’s successful event. He wasn’t going to stay long – he just wanted to get a few files off his computer, e-mail them to himself or maybe store them online like Andy had wisely suggested. Zoe was working at Hot Ink, and when she wasn’t around, he was kind of a workaholic.
Thinking of her, he reached for the door and stepped inside, making it a good half a dozen steps toward his desk before he realized something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Wrong as in either they’d been robbed, or one of the other guys had inexplicably decided to remove everything of value from the office.
As he looked around, he knew that didn’t make any sense. Why would anyone have taken Zoe’s computer and printer, for instance, or the bulky copier? And the door … damn it, he’d walked right through it. He hadn’t even needed to use his key despite the fact that he was the only one who’d been to the office all day.
His gut lurched, and he gave the office a quick scan, even checking behind the desks. There was no one there. No one and nothing – just the desks and empty chairs. Whoever had made off with their stuff was long gone.
It’d probably happened overnight. Zoe must’ve forgotten to lock up when she’d left with the file he’d asked her to stop by and retrieve.
* * * * *
Schubert was lounging on the futon when Zoe walked through the apartment door Saturday evening. She paused to scratch him between his ears, which he endured with a yellow-eyed look of smug satisfaction. “Hey, buddy,” she said.
He stood abruptly, leapt off the futon and stalked across the room, toward the hall. Apparently, he didn’t like being called “buddy”.
Oh, well. Schubert’s moods could hardly affect hers when she was still glowing inside after last night’s events. The opening rounds of the tournament had been a success, and Paul had won. Life was good.
“Noah?” she called softly, ducking her head into the kitchen.
He wasn’t at the counter, where she’d half expected to find him preparing something for dinner. He was actually a pretty decent cook, though he stuck with simple dishes. Over the past weeks, he and she had often taken turns cooking for the both of them. Sometimes they even worked together – those occasions were her favorites.
The sound of his voice drifted from down the hall, in the direction Schubert had retreated.
She paused to shed her jacket and shoes, then padded silently after the cat.
She froze midway down the hall when she heard her own name.
“It was an accident,” Noah said. “It could’ve happened to anybody. I haven’t even asked her about it yet, for fuck’s sake.”
Zoe’s gut promptly tied itself in knots. Ask her about what? Who was he talking to – someone on the phone?
The pause that came next supported that theory.
“This is what we bought the insurance policy for – it’ll cover most of the loss. The deductible’s not that high. We’ll absorb the cost.”
Zoe stood, frozen, one hand braced against the wall.
“I know exactly what kind of budget we’re on. God damn it, Jay, it has nothing t
o do with that. I can’t ask her to pay for it. She’s going through some sort of money crisis. I don’t know, her dad is sick. That’s more important than this. Don’t be a dick about it.”
It was the first time Zoe had ever heard real anger in Noah’s voice. On one hand, it intimidated her a little. On the other, she felt an answering sense of fury rising up inside herself. What the hell was Noah doing talking to Jay about her family, her dad? She hadn’t even shared the details with Noah – he must’ve overheard everything she and Britney had talked about the night before. Either that or he’d put two and two together when he’d caught her working at Sugar Panda and she’d later mentioned that her father had health problems.
What were they talking about?
“That’s none of your business.” Noah’s voice was all steel now, and although he’d stopped swearing, somehow that only made him sound angrier. “I don’t ever want to hear you talk about her – or what I choose to do with her – like that again.”
Zoe’s unease skyrocketed, to the point that she felt vaguely nauseous.
“Fine. I’ll pay for it. That work for you? Just don’t you dare give her any shit about this. I mean it.”
She was standing statue-still with one hand pressed to her stomach when Noah emerged from his bedroom, tossing his phone over his shoulder.
As it hit the bed and bounced onto the carpet, his eyes went wide. “Zoe—”
“What were you talking about?” She struggled to keep her voice steady, unsure whether she should be as angry – or as afraid – as she felt.
“I…”
She waited, the muscles in her legs too stiff to allow her to tap her toe.
“I was gonna talk to you when you got home. Some stuff in the office got stolen.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Everything. Everything except for the desks and chairs. The computers, printers and the copier – it’s all gone.”