Shauna refused to meet their eyes as she stepped back toward the exit. “This was a mistake.”
“Probably not for the reasons you’re thinking,” Hunter called after her, right before Daryl rested his hand on Hunter’s arm and shook his head.
Apparently it was time to stop talking.
“We’re here if you need us,” Daryl said right before Shauna opened the door and left without another word.
Hunter took a slow breath and looked at his friend. “I told you that you should have been the one to talk to her. I don’t do well with this stuff.”
Daryl gave his arm a little pat, his tone half-mocking and half-serious as he said, “I’ll listen to you next time. Promise.”
Hunter stared at the door for another few beats before turning to his friend. “You’re on social media, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go find out what Aaron’s last name is and how in the world he got a woman like Shauna under his thumb.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Daryl said before they both walked over to a computer.
Chapter 37
“Jab-jab-cross. Roll. Uppercut-uppercut-hook,” Hunter called out.
Kenny hammered the combination out, doing his best to break Hunter’s hands through the pads he wore as targets. The kid was still hostile, but at least he was focused. He hadn’t pretended to miss the pad in an attempt to hit Hunter once yet that day. That was progress.
“Good,” Hunter called out. “Again!”
Kenny kept drilling, his eyes on the pads and every punch full force.
Hunter kept him going, mixing up the combos until he felt the kid’s form slip. “Thirty-second water break.”
To his surprise, Kenny didn’t argue. He simply walked over to the drinking fountain and rinsed and spit before taking a swallow of water.
“Fifteen seconds,” Hunter called as the boy paced back and forth in front of him, not making eye contact. “These next few rounds I’m going to throw faux hooks for you to roll under.”
The kid spit on the mat and nodded.
“All right,” he said. “Get in position.”
As Kenny raised up his gloves, a man approached Hunter from his right and it was pure reflex that had Hunter leaning out of range of the punch that flew past his face.
“What the—” Hunter turned to face the newcomer right in time to evade the next punch. When he finally saw who it was, he was even more confused. “Aaron? How did you get in here?”
The man didn’t even try to answer the question. “You need to stay away from my girlfriend!”
Words failed Hunter. All he could think, as he looked at Shauna’s boyfriend, was that if there was a man besides Jon on the earth that needed to be punched, he was looking at him.
“Dude,” Hunter said, pulling the pads off his hands. “You’re trespassing. I know for a fact you don’t have a membership here.”
Again, the man ignored him. “Shauna’s with me. You understand?”
“Wait. Miss Weekes?” Kenny asked, but Hunter couldn’t risk a response.
“Aaron,” Hunter said carefully. “I promise that Shauna and I only speak to each other when professional circumstances require it. She’s not my sidepiece, and I’m not hers.”
“Do you think I’m stupid?” Aaron sneered.
“Well…” Hunter hedged with a little shrug, but stopped himself from saying more. The good news was that other gym members had picked up on what was happening and were closing in to help contain the situation. If Hunter could avoid picking a fight, Aaron would be gone in no time.
When the guy went for another punch, Hunter caught it in his palm and pushed the man onto his butt where he landed with an undignified bounce. “No fighting in this club without gloves, Aaron. Those are the rules. Also, you need to sign a waiver.”
Without a word from Hunter, two other boxers hooked their arms under Aaron’s and picked him up off the ground as Lou stepped forward.
“Time for you to leave, sir,” Lou said, and Aaron was stupid enough to start fighting the decree. Lou responded by pulling a tube out of his pocket and spraying the contents into Aaron’s face. The man started gagging, making it easier for the two men carrying him to take him to the exit.
Lou looked at the tube in his hand, his expression a bit surprised. “Huh. I use this to break up my dogs when they’re fighting. Apparently it works on humans too.” Then he shrugged and walked back to the front desk. Everyone else dispersed without comment, leaving Hunter alone with Kenny again as if nothing had happened.
Hunter released a wave of rage in a staccato exhale. If an impressionable boy with anger-management issues hadn’t been standing five feet behind him, Hunter would have hit something. Hard. As it was, breathing was pretty much his only option as he thought of Shauna spending time with that man. Kissing that man.
What was she thinking? Was she thinking?
Do you think I’m stupid? Was there an echo in the room, or were Jon and Aaron throwing the same words in his face. And the honest answer to their joint question: No. Hunter didn’t think they were stupid. Just possessive, domineering, and in need of some serious therapy. Okay, and maybe a little stupid.
Jon and Aaron…Aaron and Jon. They were different, but there were some definite similarities in the “control issues” department, and Esme was ready to say “I do” to all that.
Why?
Hunter knew what he saw when he looked at the guys, but what did women see? What in the world were women like Esme and Shauna thinking as they fell asleep at night? Did they think that the intense need to possess stemmed from love, and that only men in love would act that way?
It was a mystery Hunter would have to solve another day, because he had a teenager waiting on him. When Hunter turned back to Kenny, the kid had his eyes fixed on the last glimpses of Aaron being shown the door.
“Remember when you were like that?” Hunter asked, not expecting an answer but hoping the boy was disgusted enough by what he saw to consider the point. When Kenny didn’t respond, Hunter slid his hands back into the punching pads. “You ready for the next round?”
“That guy is seriously unbalanced,” Kenny said, staring at the door.
“Right?” Hunter said, happy to be validated, even if it was by a teenage delinquent. “I’m not the only one seeing it?”
Kenny shook his head, the gears behind his eyes clearly working overtime. “Is that really Miss Weekes’ boyfriend? Not like a stalker or something?”
“I probably shouldn’t answer that question, but yeah, he is. And no, I don’t get it either.” But get it, or not, Shauna was definitely getting a call from him after the session and he’d let her know exactly what he thought of the man in her life.
Aaron was long gone, but Kenny’s gaze was still fixated on the doorway where he’d last seen the man.
“You could have floored him in one punch,” Kenny said, the statement more an accusation of inaction than praise for the self-control Hunter had displayed.
Hunter shrugged. “If I punched him with you here these sessions of ours would go bye-bye. No judge is going to let you train with someone who punches first and thinks later. And think of all the quality time we would have lost together…all over one punch.”
Based on Kenny’s frown, he didn’t like that answer.
“C’mon,” Hunter said, giving the kid a pat on the shoulder. “Let’s get back to it. Gloves up.”
When Kenny turned and started into the next drill, Hunter could have sworn he was hitting twice as hard.
Chapter 38
Esme rolled her carryon up to the departure gate and checked the time. She was an hour early. The security lines had been kind to her.
Plopping down in the nearest seat, she took a breath.
After five days she was heading home, and for the first time in her life Esme didn’t feel a skip in her step at the prospect. Dealing with Roger had been stressful, but in a way it had been a nice break from the Jon and Hunter situation. T
he only positive about going home was that she could finally get back to her usual routine. Esme wasn’t quite sure how much weight she’d put on in the past few days, but her pants felt a little snug.
Eating in hotels and restaurants for nearly a week while having endless croissants and pastries available during meetings would do that to a waistline. She missed her treadmill; she missed her routine; she missed her usual diet, but that had been about all she missed.
Well, that wasn’t true. She’d missed Hunter, although maybe “missed” was the wrong word. What she felt was more like a headache in her chest. Steady, constant, unflinching, and impervious to all pain killers. The only balm, she was quite sure, was to see him…to hear his voice.
To hug him.
Man, what she wouldn’t give for a Hunter hug at the moment. They could talk—or not talk—so long as she was able to lean in and hold on for a bit. The mere thought released something in her brain that made her chest ache a little less. So she let the thought play in her mind until she remembered she was supposed to be thinking about seeing Jon again. Then she felt guilty. She didn’t mind thinking about hugging Jon instead, but the thought didn’t make the ache in her chest fade.
Esme wasn’t quite sure what to do about that because things had actually gotten better between her and Jon on the trip. They had Skyped each night, and he’d been adorable about counting down the days for her return by sending bouquets of flowers to the hotel…a hotel she spent no real time in, but he was trying. And that only made it harder for her to admit that a bouquet of flowers from her fiancé wasn’t the same as hearing her best friend’s voice and knowing he was doing okay.
Although it was stupid to think Hunter wasn’t okay. Of course he was. Hunter had a tight-knit group of friends and family who had his back. Esme knew that because she used to be part of that group…and the fact that she wasn’t anymore?
Esme took a deep breath, pulling out her phone to distract herself.
Work. It was best to think about work.
She’d talked Roger into letting her stay an extra full day in an effort to cover both their butts. She’d spent that extra day touring the facilities of the third-party company that had been misrepresenting their services to Roger for the past three years. Then she’d spent last night writing a scathing review of their operations and credibility, encouraging Roger to discontinue the partnership before sending it to him.
It wasn’t much, but it was time-stamped and dated. That meant Roger could use it if he needed to, or he could disregard it forever. If Dane was right in his recommendation, the latter would happen. But if Esme was right? Well, then, things would get interesting and her report would lend some credibility that Roger was doing some due diligence to investigate the allegations that had been brought to him.
The question she had to ask now was whether to drop Roger as a client. She didn’t want to think about that, but she had to make a serious pro-con list and decide if his was a relationship worth keeping. He’d proven to her over the past few days that he was willing to be unethical, which meant that the next time a similar ethical dilemma presented itself he probably wouldn’t knock on Esme’s door. He’d make his move without consulting and she’d end up with a curve ball from out of nowhere.
One of the few joys of consulting was that your client couldn’t just fire you. You could fire them. And while Esme had no problem managing a crisis, she did mind saving people from their own intentional sins.
The question was: Was Roger one of those clients who would exploit her? After this past week, she honestly didn’t know.
Curious as to what other scandals Roger’s company might have hidden without her knowledge, Esme opened the browser on her phone and punched in search terms to see if anything came up. Nothing obvious. And no news was good news until she spotted a Reddit link.
14 Companies That Are Lying About Being Made in the USA.
Not good. It was highly unlikely that the post mentioned Roger’s company, but it was relevant so she clicked the link and glanced at the first paragraph.
Six months ago, we sent proof to 27 companies that their Made in the USA labeling was false. Thirteen of those companies responded by changing their ways. Here are the 14 that have knowingly continued to mislabel their product for the past six months.
Esme breathed a sigh of relief as she scrolled through the names, knowing that Roger’s company couldn’t be on the list because they’d only barely found out. Maybe this group had made Roger part of their second vigilante wave. If so, that meant six months was their cutoff and Roger didn’t have eight months to wait out his current contract. He needed to cut things off now.
To be thorough, Esme scrolled through the companies listed on the Redditor’s Sin List until her finger force-stopped on number nine. She was still processing what her eyes were seeing when her phone lit up with a call.
Roger.
Six months, she thought to herself as she debated whether to answer or not. He’s known for six months.
On the fifth ring, she picked up.
“Esme,” Roger said, his voice panicked. “There’s been a development. Have you gotten on your flight yet?”
“No,” she said carefully. “Roger, have you really had all the information you showed me this past week for six months?”
His uneasy sigh told her he had.
“It’s not as easy as that,” he replied. “I can walk you through everything back at the office. I know I shut you down when you said this might happen, but it’s clear you were right and I need you to stay in DC and work through this.”
Esme took a slow breath and reached over to grab her carryon. It looked like she was staying.
“A silver lining in this for you is that staying puts you in overtime in our contract, so that means double pay,” Roger reminded her.
That was honestly the least of Esme’s worries. She had no doubt she was about to earn every penny. “See you in a few hours, Roger.”
Chapter 39
Hunter stood at the window of Luke’s work site and took in the night view of the city. It wasn’t a bad one, but he’d stopped caring about that a while ago. The view was just an excuse to stay in one place for five minutes without anyone asking what he was doing.
Luke stepped up next to him. “What ya’ doing?”
Hunter looked over and glared. “Looking at the pretty lights.”
“Uh-huh,” Luke said. “Me, too. I mean, look at all that electricity. We should take a picture.”
Hunter shook his head. “You’re a lost cause, man.”
“Takes one to know one.”
“Got me there.”
For about ten seconds Luke granted Hunter the gift of silence. The he broke it.
“Want a free life tip?” Luke offered.
“Can I stop you?”
Luke smirked. “No one likes a pity party. Not even the organizer. They’re a waste of time.”
“I’ll remember that the next time I’m at a pity party.”
“I’m pretty sure I stepped into one when I joined you at this window. You’ve been staring at the same spot for thirty minutes.”
“Dude, it’s been like five minutes.”
Luke sent a pointed look to his watch. “Check the time, man. Check your drink. Twenty bucks says it’s lukewarm.”
Hunter touched the side of his bottle, surprised to find that Luke was right.
Had he really been standing there for thirty minutes?
“On a separate note,” Luke said, looking out the window. “You’ve been pretty useless to me for the past few weeks. I don’t know why you keep coming over to help.”
“I need to stay busy,” Hunter admitted.
“That would imply working. All you do is show up and stare off into space. It’s kind of killing my vibe.”
Hunter shook his head, knowing what his friend was trying to do just like he knew it wasn’t working. “How do you do it, man?”
“Do what?”
Hunter looked over
at the friend he’d known almost as long as Esme. “Kade is such a loser, and yet he has Ali. How can you sleep at night knowing that?”
Luke looked out the window. “Because Ali gets to decide who’s in her life and who isn’t. Not me.”
“I know. But how do you stand by when you see him setting up to hurt her?” he asked, feeling his temper rise. “When you see the manipulation, how can you still step off and let everything play out?”
“Because experience has taught me that all that happens by speaking up is that you get blamed for the problems because you’re the one who pointed them out.” He glanced over at Hunter. “People really do shoot the messenger, my friend. It’s not just a cliché. The fastest way to lose Esme is to tattle on Jon. He’s waiting for it, I promise, and you’re the one who will get thrown under the bus. It’s a tale as old as time.”
“So you let it go?” Hunter asked.
Luke shook his head. “Of course not. That’s impossible. I have thirteen years of bad mojo stuck in my craw if anyone ever cares to look. Luckily for me, nobody does. In the meantime, I burn off all my internalized anger by ripping houses apart and putting them back together again. It puts a lot more money in my pocket than the shrink I used to see.”
Hunter mulled over that.
“Stay busy,” Luke said. “That’s my advice. You told Esme you love her and she hasn’t spoken to you since. There’s nothing for you to do but move on. If you don’t, it’ll drive you crazy.”
That was definitely true. Hunter could already feel the crazy beginning to brew. “But as a friend, can’t I tell her—”
“You’re a tainted well, man,” Luke said over him. “Trust me. Tattling on Jon doesn’t end well for you. Ever.”
“But…you could,” Hunter said, brightening.
Luke held up his hands. “I’ve met the guy once.”
“And he was a douche.”
“That he was,” Luke agreed. “But I saw nothing that warrants an intervention with Esme. The guy seems decent, but jealous. I think the thing that pisses you off is that you’ve always imagined Esme marrying someone so high above you that he’d be untouchable. But that’s not what’s happening. You actually think you’re better than this guy and it’s messing with you.”
King of the Friend Zone (Power of the Matchmaker) Page 19