The Fight (A Standalone Novel) (MMA Bad Boy Romance)

by Adams, Claire

  "In town for business or pleasure?" the cab driver asked.

  "Business," I said. His casual question started my mind racing around the real problem I was having separating the two things.

  "Really? That's too bad. Unless you like your work. I love my work," he said.

  "Do you like living in Vegas?" I asked.

  He nodded into the rearview mirror but did not accept my change of subject. "What do you do for a living?"

  "I'm a sports agent. I help athletes get endorsement deals and connect brands with sports representation," I said.

  "Well, we got all kinds of athletes here," the cab driver said. "Just this morning I've had two basketball players, a boxer, and a Kung Fu master. Can you believe that? Bet this town is good for your business."

  "Yes, my thoughts exactly," I said. "I'm thinking of moving here. Or at least, staying for a while." It still felt crazy to say it out loud and I always braced myself for other people to laugh.

  "You'll love it," he said. "Who are you here to sign?"

  "Fenton Morris, the martial arts fighter. Do you know him?" I asked.

  "Do I know him?" The cab driver gestured to one of Fenton's billboards. "Though, he sounds like a rough customer. Got a real reputation, that one. A nice girl like you would do better with the tennis players or the golfers. Or how about the video gamers? Everyone says it’s like an up and coming sport."

  I shook my head. Fenton's reputation seemed like its own entity. Would I have to date it, too? I held my breath. Was I dating Fenton Morris? We had never really talked about it. His jealousy made us seem exclusive, but he did have a reputation to maintain. What would people say if they knew he was dating someone like me?

  "So you like those martial arts fights? All the blood? You don't strike me as that kind of girl," the cab driver said.

  "Then, I guess I'd surprise you," I said. Maybe my reputation was the greater hindrance. I always thought it helped me with work, but I was sick of it. It was time for a change. I promised myself that Jackson McRay would be the first client I landed as myself, not some prim and proper projection of what the other person wanted.

  With that thought bolstering my courage, I sprang from the cab and stopped in shock. Jackson McRay had beaten me to the restaurant, and he was arm in arm with Dana Maria. More than arm in arm, his hand trailed along her neck and dipped down the front of her revealing sea-foam dress. I could not read her expression, but Jackson's smile was predatory.

  "Sorry if I'm late," I said. "There was a lot of traffic on the Strip."

  Jackson stepped in front of Dana Maria, giving her his back and not looking around again. "There's my beautiful date. I have been waiting, but it was worth it."

  I sidestepped his charming smile and greeted Fenton's sister. "Nice to see you again, Dana Maria."

  "I'm not checking up on you if that's what you think," she said. "I have a private gig in the adjoining hotel and your friend here snagged me as I walked past."

  "Private gig?" I asked.

  "Yes," Dana Maria tossed her hair, "I dance for private parties, bachelor nights, and whatever. There's good money in it and I stick to the high-end hotels where everything is on the up and up."

  "Alone? Does Fenton know?" I asked.

  "Look, hun, I'm a professional and, despite you turning your nose up at me, I love what I do. Fenton knows and he's proud of me for making my own way in the world," Dana Maria said.

  "No, I just meant, I wanted to make sure it was safe for you. Fenton would not like you going into a bachelor party alone," I said.

  She sniffed at me. "I got a bodyguard, but I can take care of myself. Better hope you can say the same thing," she said. She gave Jackson's back a sharp look and then turned on her platform heels. A burly man appeared from the hallway and followed her to the elevators.

  "Don't worry," Jackson said. "I'll look out for you."

  I took his arm. The maitre d' escorted us directly to our table, where Jackson held out my chair for me. I thanked him, but could not get Dana Maria's look out of my mind.

  "I ordered a bottle of wine while I was waiting. I hope that's alright," Jackson said. "You just relax and start on your glass while I order us dinner."

  I nodded, but wondered what he would say if I disagreed. Jackson seemed gracious and well-mannered, but he liked to have things a certain way. I had a feeling that everything in his world fit the way he wanted it to or it did not stick around for long.

  Still, he made delicious choices and I was not discontent.

  He smiled as I enjoyed my first long sip of the wine. "It is so nice to meet someone with the same tastes, isn't it?" he asked.

  "Well, I can't complain about the wine," I said.

  "You would have chosen a different entree?" Jackson asked. "I chose the salmon because it consistently gets the highest reviews. I just thought it was best to go with the best."

  "Of course. I would have done the same," I agreed. I was just being silly. Jackson was courteous not controlling. I was just thrown by the vast differences between him and Fenton.

  "See," he smiled. "Great minds think alike. That's why I believe we can finish our business before the first course."

  "Well, I already put out calls to a few of our clients, but the one I think is the best fit for you is Precision Tools. It’s another long-term, brand-loyalty contract like the vitamin supplements. I liked the idea of you choosing the right club and incorporating that into choosing the right tool for the job," I said.

  "See? Perfect," he said. "Let's do that. You're really good at your job, Kya. Do you see yourself at it for a long time to come?"

  I sipped my wine and tried to come up with a succinct answer. Until twenty-four hours ago, I would have been able to tell him my entire life plan. Now, it was all up in the air. I smiled. "I'm going to get off the road, find a base, and see where it goes from there."

  He nodded. "I can see you settled down. I imagine you'll do well. Then, you'll join a good country club and some lucky man will snap you up right away."

  "Is that what you see for yourself?" I asked. "Retiring to hold court at your favorite country club and find yourself a lovely queen?"

  "Then, a big white house with a yard, a vacation home, and a few good years of enjoying it all before the kids come along," Jackson said. "Sounds perfect, doesn't it? I told you that great minds think alike."

  He plucked my hand from the white linen tablecloth and brushed his thumb gently across the back of my knuckles. I had to admit that Jackson McRay was very attractive. A few women around the restaurant were watching us with barely contained jealousy. I did feel a thrill at the easy and comfortable life he had outlined.

  The only problem was he was not Fenton. I pulled my hand back. "It's a bit expected," I said. "I wouldn't want you to think I was boring."

  Jackson's lips curled in an appreciative smile. "You're right. I do like a girl who needs to be chased. So tell me, Kya, what kind of wild future do you see for yourself?"

  I sipped my wine. "I'm going to try Las Vegas for a while. It makes the most sense for my business. So, there goes my country club plans. I might have to take up gambling," I said.

  "Or martial arts?" he asked. His smile disappeared and he reached for his wine.

  "Who knows," I said. "There are lots of hobbies I haven't tried yet. I think it’s kind of fun to takes things as they come. I mean, don't get me wrong. I had outlined the exact life you described, but now I think I should see what happens instead of trying to make it happen. Does that make sense?"

  "No," he said. He took my hand again. "It makes sense that you want to cut loose and try on the world for size. But only for a little while, Kya. You're smart, you're practical, and you know the best course for your life to take. Once you're on that course and your momentum really gets going, it can feel a little scary. That's why you should find someone with your same tastes to guide you back when the time comes."

  "You don't think I can take care of myself?" I asked. The words echoed what Dana
Maria had said earlier.

  "It’s not that. I just don't want you to wake up one morning lost. Having a goal keeps you on track."

  I had to agree. Having solid goals was the only thing that kept me from falling apart when my parents passed away. "I know. I agree. I'm just not sure my end goal is a big white house. Lots of people work towards the goal of being happy and securing their future without mapping out every step."

  "Like your fighter?"

  "You can't possibly think of Fenton Morris as unfocused," I said.

  "Then how about impetus?" Jackson asked. "He can certainly be all over the map with what he does and what he wants."

  "I don't know if I agree," I said. "Both he and his sister are very driven. They might not have the house picked out, but I bet they are both working towards the same kind of security that you are describing."

  Jackson snorted. "What I'm describing is worlds away from what a stripper saves her money for. You think she's going to earn enough to appear in polite society?"

  "I don't think Dana Maria is interested in polite society. She knows exactly who she is and doesn't care what other people say."

  "But you do," he said. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be testing out this idea of staying in Vegas on every person you meet."

  "I might not have Dana Maria's confidence, but I'm getting there," I said. "That's why I'm not narrowing my options down to the safe path."

  "That's not confidence," he disagreed. "That's the long term affect of being stared at by men. She thinks she's in control, she thinks she confident, but she's really just begging for attention."

  "You were paying attention to her when I arrived," I said. I swallowed and wished I had the words back.

  Jackson laughed and poured himself more wine. "Like I pay attention to the label on a wine bottle. Then, I drink what I want and toss it away. And, trust me, there are better vintages than her."

  He smiled and I knew it was supposed to be a compliment. I smiled back and sipped my wine while my skin crawled. Jackson was perfect on the outside– a handsome gentleman, a professional golfer known for his grace under pressure, and a widely coveted and charming date.

  He just was not the man for me.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Fenton

  As soon as we stepped out of the elevator, I noticed people looking at my sister. The looks on their faces said they had the exact same thoughts as Jackson just had up in the suite.

  "You could have changed clothes up in the suite, Dee," I said. "I didn't mean to rush you out of there."

  "I'm perfectly comfortable," Dana Maria said. "Plus, it’s gotta be good for your reputation. Fenton Morris seen in broad daylight with an exotic dancer. Fits right into the image of the party boy fighter, doesn't it?"

  "Except for the part where you're my sister," I said.

  "Since when do you care what people think?" she asked. "Besides your buttoned-up roommate."

  "Her name is Kya." I grabbed Dana Maria's arm and steered her through the gathering sea of interested faces. "Why can't you call her by her name?"

  "For the same reason I'm not going to put on a conservative dress to have lunch with you. That's not me. This is what I like to wear and I don't call people by their given names unless they are actually my friends," Dana Maria said.

  I yanked open the door of the waiting cab and tucked my sister inside. "You're telling me you wouldn't be more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt? Or a dress with less lace and tight straps?"

  My sister shrugged. "Maybe, but I've got a gig right after lunch."

  My shoulders tensed. "You need a chaperone?" I asked.

  Dana Maria laughed. "No thanks, baby bro. I've got my own muscle. There's nothing for you to worry about."

  She changed the subject, and I ended up telling her all about the fight and the after party. I stopped before I confessed anything about Kya, but somehow my sister guessed it.

  "You know she'll just drop you as soon as she finds someone better," Dana Maria said. She twisted the wrapper to her straw around her finger and pretended it was an engagement ring. "Oh, you shouldn't have gotten such a big diamond! No, I don't mind that you're a balding lawyer because you are so rich and your family is so well known. We'll get married on the 13th green, and our lives will be just like a cardigan catalog."

  I wadded up a paper napkin and threw it at her. "Very funny. But you don't know the first thing about Kya. She's different than she looks."

  "I'm sure she is," Dana Maria said. "The only problem is that in the end, she's going to think she should marry someone that looks just as catalog perfect as her. And, when she realizes his surface doesn't match what he's really like underneath, she’ll find out she was dead wrong."

  Her dire warning chilled me for a minute before I dismissed it. Kya was different and my sister was right, I shouldn't care what other people think. "You're only saying that because of Mom and Dad."

  "What do they have to do with you and your girl from the good side of town?" Dana Maria asked.

  "Dad was handsome, charming even, and Mom loved him until she realized all he cared about was himself," I said. "You think she was stupid for falling for him in the first place. Like she could have known he would just walk out on us one day."

  "Exactly. Mom thought she had found someone who liked the same things, came from the same background, and wanted the same things in the future. He made her think that, but it was all just a lie. He just wanted to use her for a while, and when he got bored, he left."

  My sister stopped as the waiter brought our burgers. I took my time adding mustard and just the right amount of pickle relish, not willing to say anything. No one had been hurt more by our father leaving or our mother's death than my sister. On top of the pain, she had me to worry about.

  "I'm sorry, Fen. This is supposed to be a celebration. You kicked ass last night and you're on your way up. Here's to you, baby brother!" Dana Maria raised her glass of beer and toasted me.

  "Thank you," I said.

  "Can you believe how far you've come? I remember when your fists were the size of walnuts. You couldn't knock out anything bigger than a squirrel."

  "Until grade school," I reminded her.

  "Flying Fists Fenton," she laughed. "I wonder what all your grade school teachers think now that you're on your way to the title fight."

  "They'd probably still lecture me on staying focused."

  "That's all I'm saying. I know you've got your eye on the hot agent, but you've got a title to win. You can't be getting distracted now," Dana Maria said. She punctuated her words with a French fry.

  I snapped the fry out of her fingers and popped it in my mouth. "I promise I will stay focused on the title fight, Ms. Morris."

  "Good. Now, I hate to cut this short, but I've got that private gig to get to." She had the waitress wrap up her mostly untouched burger so I could take it with me for a snack.

  "Still starving to feed me?" I asked.

  "I'm not about to dance on a double cheeseburger," Dana Maria said.

  "Your last dance?" I asked. "You could retire and let me take care of you for a while, you know."

  "Come on, Fen, you know I like my independence. Don't be like everyone else and make the mistake of thinking I'm only dancing because I can't do anything else. I like it and it pays very well. I'm not afraid of liking the attention, I'm not embarrassed at showing off my body, and I'm not about to find something boring to do just because other people think it’s more respectable."

  "Yeah, I thought you would say that." I kissed my sister on the forehead. "And, I love you for it."

  I was still chewing over everything my sister said when I got to the gym. Kev seemed to appear out of nowhere. He was lucky I didn't knock his teeth out. Even crazy fans knew better than to surprise me by now.

  "Whoa, you've gotta be hungover if I'm able to get the drop on you," Kev said. "I mean, I know I'm hungover from last night's festivities, but I'm not the one that has to get back in the ring."

 
"I'm not hungover, I'll be fine," I said.

  "Yeah, I wondered if you were just playing it up for the cameras last night," Kev said. "Gotta say I was jealous of you and that Sienna. God, she is hot, and she was all over you."

  I headed to the locker room, but Kev followed me. "It was all for the cameras. None of it was real."

  "Real, fake, I wouldn't care if she was made entirely of plastic," Kev said. "She's hot, you're hot, and the publicity from her reality show is red hot. You should invite her to be your date to the fight promotion party. Think of all the free publicity that would buy you. Plus, her sexy friends."

  "I didn't really think she was that hot," I said.

  "Seriously? But she was still there when I left." Kev waggled his eyebrows at me.

  "I sent her home. Nothing happened."

  Kev jumped in front of me again. "Nothing happened with her, but something did happen, didn't it? Oh, I knew it! That's great, man, that is so great."

  I wiped his hands off the front of my shirt. "What is great? What are you talking about?"

  "You can't lie to me, man, I know you. You were with Kya last night. I love it! I love you two together. I mean, you and Sienna made for a hot reality show couple, but you and Kya, that's for real. I saw you two looking at each other from across the party."

  "You have no idea what you're talking about. You were wasted last night," I said.

  "Wasted or not, I recognize a connection when I see it," he said. "And you two connected that first night in the club."

  "You were wasted then, too," I reminded him.

  "Come on, now. You were matching me drink for drink until you met Kya," he said.

  "Can you please let me get ready? Aldous is not going to let me slack off, even the day after a win. I've got to stay focused if I want to win the title fight, and the last thing I need is you thinking you're a better matchmaker than a manager."

  "I agree," Aldous said. He held open the locker room door. "Especially about the not letting you slack off part. You've got thirty seconds to change and get to work."

  It was a relief to work my sore muscles, stretch them out again, and get out of my own head. The harder I worked out, the more the world retreated and I did not need to worry about focusing. There was nothing else. Just me doing what I was born to do.