by Maya Rossi
When the fan was operating at full blast, Robin tilted her head back and groaned in relief. “Thank you so much, I’ve told Terry the air conditioners need replacing, but he never listens.”
“How far along are you, six months?” the man asked.
Ava and Robin glanced at each other. Finally, Robin said, “Yeah, pushing to seven months.”
She felt his frown without seeing even a glimpse.
“Maybe you might want to think of getting off your feet for a while,” he must have sensed Robin’s objections because he continued quickly, “you can get another job while you wait for the baby.”
Robin angled her chin forward, as ever ready to take on a fight if necessary. How many times had Ava seen that reaction in school when the bullies gave her a hard time? How many times had Robin come to her rescue, ever ready to do battle? And she had allowed a man and a job distance her from a woman who used to be her best friend.
“Like what?” Robin asked.
“Ordering people around, seems like you’re good at that.”
The way he worded the dry reply more than his words cracked them up and before you knew it, their corner was abuzz with loud laughter. The man didn’t laugh though, Ava noticed. He just turned his face away like he didn’t want to join in, but would like to. Sort of like a small kid left out of a play.
“Hey, will you keep quiet?” A man in front asked irritably, “Some of us are here for business.”
Ava clamped a hand over her mouth to hold back more mirth. When she had herself under control, she said, “Sorry.”
But a younger man, probably a brother to the first added loudly, “What business does a woman have watching boxing? Doesn’t she have a man or babies to raise or something?”
Sharp pain pierced Ava’s inside like a sword thrust home. Was it to be the bane of her existence never to be taken seriously around a sport she loved? She loved boxing; she knew boxing; she ate sports for breakfast, lunch and dinner. She grew up with the sport for God’s sake. Yet, not only Frank and Mason at the office but an unknown guy at a bar dismissed her for not being good enough just because she was a woman?
As her pain morphed into anger, Ava rose to confront the man but found Robin and face cap guy had beaten her to it.
“You worthless disrespectful swine,” Robin was saying, her words dripped with red hot fury. “I bet you know nothing about boxing.”
“I’m not the woman who should be home with her babies disturbing the men from enjoying the fight,” the man said.
With quiet efficiency, face cap guy herded a sputtering Robin to her seat with a quiet command to sit down. Ava pushed forward ready to take down the doofus only to hear, “Sit, please.”
Flummoxed, she sat. It was the ‘please’ that did it, not the air of authority he wore like a cloak.
“That’s what I thought,” the man muttered and faced the television.
Then face cap guy took a confident, tightly controlled step towards the unsuspecting guy. His every movement deliberate and filled with raw strength.
“My God, what’s he wearing?” Robin asked in an awed whisper. “He smells damn good.”
Ava didn’t reply because she wasn’t listening. She had her eyes glued to face cap guy. Maybe she should put an end to the incoming bar fight. The one she wanted to watch had already begun without her.
Only there was no fight. Face cap placed a big hand on the guy’s delicate neck. “The lady apologized.”
The annoying man stiffened. An air of expectation descended on the room. Ava realized they had an audience. Just as the man reached to hit face cap guy, he stopped. In an instant, he lost his attitude and bowed slightly, smiling.
Face cap guy said something, and the man looked over. “I’m sorry.”
“What the hell, Ava. Where did you find this guy?” Robin asked.
“I didn’t find him,” Ava snapped, angry at the insinuation. “I came here with Eddy, all right?”
“Now, who’s getting worked up over nothing?” she grumbled. “But man, he’s hot.”
“Who’s hot?” Steve asked.
Later, after Steve herded his wife away and Ava sat with face cap guy, inhaling his wonderful cologne deep into her lungs, she remembered. “You didn’t tell me what or who you wear, as in the cologne?”
He pulled his attention from the fight and gave her an exasperated sideways glance. “Maybe I don’t want your boyfriend--”
“Fiance.”
“Smelling like me,” he finished.
Ava gave it some thought. “I guess I can understand that, but seriously? It’s dope.”
“You speak like a teenager.”
“You know how a teenager speaks?” Maybe he had a family. It would explain why he knew how far along Robin was. Ava checked out his finger discreetly. Nope, no ring.
Again, he pulled away without physically moving. His withdrawal was evident in the tighter set to his already tight shoulders, the imperceptible hardening of his jaw. Jesus, talking to this guy was like navigating a minefield. Where was Eddy anyway?
“I might have a stepsister, she gave me the hand fan,” he explained grudgingly.
‘Might have.’ There was so much and so little packed into that answer. But given his ‘do not come near’ vibe, Ava didn’t push.
“Hey,” Eddy said. “How’s your fringe contender doing?”
Ava checked him out. “You took too long,” she pouted.
“Sorry. I had it dry cleaned.”
She drew back. “Seriously?”
“Who you got?” Eddy asked.
“The match looks evenly balanced so far--”
“No. The kid has landed about ten to eight of Morgan’s punches,” face cap guy said.
Before she would make sense of the incredible statistic thrown so casually, Eddy smacked a triumphant kiss on her lips. “You win.”
“Well, my heart won,” Ava said absently. How had he known the exact number of punches landed?
By the fourth round, the fight grew more heated. People sat on the edge of their seats, hollering and screaming at the television screen.
“I can only imagine how this place would be if it was your hometown boy,” Eddy muttered.
Attention fixed on the screen, Ava didn’t reply. When the rookie seriously rocked Morgan with an incredible punch at the end of the fourth round, the whole crowd jumped to their feet in appreciation. Excitedly, she turned to face cap guy and screamed, “Did you see that?”
He smiled, looking unmoved by the craziness in the bar. “I did.”
Ava asked, “I thought he just had a puncher’s chance, you know?”
He scoffed. “What’s that?”
Surprised, Ava leaned back to take him in. “You don’t believe in puncher’s chance? It happens. How many times has an underdog gone into the ring against a more powerful opponent, sees an opening and wins with one lucky punch?”
“You’re contradicting yourself. Before he gets into the ring, he has fought his way there. Think of it like a quarter-final or semifinal match in football, no team gets to that stage by luck. James has fought fourteen times before getting this chance against Morgan. You talked about seeing an opening, it takes years of training and skill to differentiate an opening from a trap.”
Ava bit her lip. “I haven’t really thought of it like that.”
He shrugged. “It is what it is.”
Where had she heard that statement before? “So you dig football?”
He almost smiled. “Baseball or football?”
“Football a thousand times,” Ava shot back quickly.
“Me too,” he laughed.
That unused quality was fast fading from his laugh and Ava was glad for it. “I don’t get what the hype is about in baseball, but football? Oh, my freaking God.”
“I would say the baseball fans feel the same way you do,” he gave a pointed glance at the array of baseball players decorating the walls, “especially here, I think”
“Plus the football
players are really good looking.”
“They’re so small.”
“They are not,” Ava laughed. “They’re just elegant.”
“A pretty word for small,” he insisted.
How did she connect so quickly to a man she just met? She didn’t even feel this attuned to her best friend. If she asked for his number would he act weird? Ava dismissed the idea since the probability of their meeting again was quite small.
“Your favorite player, Messi or Ronaldo?”
“What if I choose someone outside those two?” she asked.
His shoulders fell dramatically and Ava laughed. “I will be disappointed. But I guess it’s what it is.”
She hit his shoulders playfully. “Guess.”
Without missing a beat, he turned to check her out. Ava held her breath to keep from squirming. He tapped a hand to his temple once. “Ronaldo.”
The crowd surged to their feet with a well of noise. Ava looked around guiltily. Eddy turned and threw his arms around her. “My vet got this, easy.”
Ava glanced at face cap guy out of the corner of her eye and found him on his phone. It was the latest iPhone model and it fit. Everything about him was sleek and expensive, she realized. She hoped he would get it on, maybe she could see his face then. He pocketed the phone and turned her way.
“So, I’m right, yeah?”
And how had he guessed that correctly? “I love Messi.”
“But you would pick Ronaldo.”
She shrugged. “Yes. How did you know?”
“Your personality doesn’t fit Messi’s--”
“People don’t like players based on personality,” she interrupted hotly.
“It’s part of it, and I wasn’t done. You also said you liked good looking players.”
Ava sat back with a groan. “I never said that, I said the players are good looking, not that I liked the good-looking ones.”
“It’s human nature to like people for their looks.”
The cold tone sent shivers down her spine. What a cynical generalization to make even though he was generally right. “You believe that?”
“It’s the truth.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t get together with Eddy for his looks.”
“Maybe not,” he neither agreed nor disagreed.
“My father is one of the ugliest and best men I’ve ever known.”
“So you take after your mom?” he asked.
It took a moment for his carefully worded compliment to hit home. When it did, Ava grinned and batted her lashes outrageously. “You can say that directly, you know? The world’s not going to come to an end.”
He guffawed loudly. There was no other word for it. The laughter shocked him more than it did her. Ava was just fucking proud she got a genuine, unforced laugh out of him. Eddy elbowed her gently.
“What’s up?”
She smiled. “Just making a friend.”
“You know I’m never coming here right? This place is so special and you haven’t watched the match for more than ten minutes.”
In that second, Ava realized she didn’t care. Not about the match anyway or the mess at her office. She wanted to sit here and speak to face cap guy forever. The thought was scary and exciting all at once. “I come here for the people, I told you that.”
“If you say so,” Eddy turned away, jaw jutted out in a sulk.
“All right?” face cap guy asked quietly.
“No.”
He straightened slowly and faced her fully. More like faced Eddy. Ava hid a smile, he was so protective, it was adorable. “You haven’t given me my compliment.”
With a low-pitched chuckle, he relaxed. “You need the compliment that badly?”
“Yes.”
“Been a while you got one, eh?”
Ava slapped his shoulders again, harder. “Don’t tease.”
When he got himself under control, he got really quiet. “You’re beautiful, not really your face which is gorgeous. It’s more your passion for the sport, your love for your friend and how you clearly enjoy being here in this bar. The pain you felt when that twit said that---” he broke off. “If you were boxing, it’s like the full twelve rounds not one round, they make you beautiful.”
Chest tight, eyes burning, Ava found it difficult to breathe. What the hell? How was she to respond to the most heartfelt, sincere and beautiful comment she had ever received?
“I-I don’t know what to say,” she returned eloquently.
He shrugged, eyes tracking the action on the screen. It should have felt weird to get such a touching compliment from him, but it didn’t. “What club do you support?”
“Arsenal.”
She gagged. Fully expecting that reaction, he leaned back and laughed. When the gagging turned to coughs, he flagged a waiter for beer but she waved it off. “Can’t believe I’ve been having the most interesting conversation with an arsenal fan.”
“They play beautiful football.”
Ava turned her head, giving him her best, ‘are you kidding me look.’ “They don’t win.”
“They entertain me.”
“What’s point of playing if you don’t win titles?”
He frowned and pulled out his phone. “That’s like asking what’s the point of doing anything if you aren’t going to succeed?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Maybe you do it because you enjoy it?”
“No, no, no.” Ava’s hair flew as she shook her head. “Many people destroy and waste their lives in the name of enjoying it. Do it to succeed, it’s the only way.”
His eyes held hers for a timeless moment. “Okay,” he said. “This is personal, I can feel it and because I’m not you, I won’t pry.”
Ava hit his arm playfully, almost dislodging his phone. “I don’t pry.”
He looked incredulous at that. “You do, and you’re shameless about it.”
Before she would reply, he held up a hand and took his call. As she watched, that familiar cold tensing took hold of him.
When he cut the call, the relaxed shoulders and smiling mouth was replaced by a back straight as a ruler and furrowed brows. “It’s been a pleasure, I’ve got to go.”
Ava nodded, puzzled by his abrupt departure. Eddy curled a hand around her shoulders. “I think your guy is more than a fringe contender. Just give him a few years.”
She forced a smile. Her heart hurt, like she just lost something valuable, like she just missed out on the friendship of a lifetime. Maybe she could stalk him on Facebook. With what? Face cap guy with the most delicious smell? She curled closer to Eddy’s side, determined to forget him.
Chapter four
“In Eddy’s words, I fucking fall for the wrong men, every fucking time,” Nance hissed as they made the rounds through the mass of suited men and gorgeous women.
“You’ve broken the record, not even Eddy can manage two ‘fuckings’ in one sentence,” Ava said, taking a sip of her champagne to mask her excitement.
“Yeah,” Nance said with a glum expression on her beautiful face.
Ava had had enough. “OK, that’s it.” She pulled Nance into an alcove and forced her chin up. “I told you that man was an ass. He tried to grope me at our end of the year party but you wouldn’t listen. I know it’s hard--”
“You don’t, you and Eddy have been going strong for over four years, so you can’t even comprehend my heart break. I loved him, Ava!”
Ava barely stopped herself from giving into an instinctive eye roll. A week after the ‘self-sabotaged meeting’, hearing from Frank was the last thing she expected. When Frank surprised her by asking that she represent the station at a sports charity dinner, an invitation only event only the top networks were privileged to attend, she nearly shit her pants. Dressed in her best evening gown, with full beat makeup and even with her feet aching something fierce from the heels, she was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Of all the reporters her little known network could have sent, she was the last option. As
the lowest on the pecking order and the only female, she was still surprised and stoked.
“We need to come up with a plan to get him back,” Nance whispered, eyes turning from heartbroken to feverish determination in an instant.