by Harley Reid
I guess that's one of the reasons I gave her the opportunity to manage me once my fighting career took off. I wanted to give her a good life. To make up for the shit I put her through all those years ago.
“Look Sarah, I really do appreciate everything you've done for me, but this is not your decision to make.” I smile, “Amelia is my first choice and I'm offering her the job whether you like it or not. And if you're so concerned about your reputation, just postpone the fight until after she's settled in and you're happy she'll work out.”
“Fine.” She concedes, “I'll call Elaine and have the contracts drawn up and sent over but promise me that you'll sleep on it and wait until the morning to call her. You're tired so you might not be thinking straight.”
I nod in response, knowing that it's too late to call now anyway.
“I'm just going to say goodbye to Madison before I leave.” She stands triumphantly, probably counting on me changing my mind once I've had time to think and makes her way to the door. “Oh, and if you do hire her.” she hesitates, “Do not leave me picking up the pieces of a sexual harassment lawsuit.”
She's never been a good loser.
Finally alone, I take a deep breath, soaking in the scent of delicate honey with floral notes of apple blossom and red fruit rising up as I swill the remaining ten-year old single malt around my glass.
Does she honestly think I’m going to be chasing after the nanny? It’s only been two years since I lost Sam and I still haven’t brought myself to empty her things from our room. Sure, we weren’t in great place when she died but she was my wife and I loved her.
I’m not ready to move on yet — I don’t think I ever will be.
Basking in the silence, I look around the home that we built. Everything reminds me of her.
When we took on the huge renovation job, we purposely chose a location that was remote enough not to have strange people just wandering on to the property for an autograph (which did happen a couple of times at our previous home) but close enough to a good school and parks so it would be easy for Maddie to play with the friends she's made.
It took us three years to get the place how we wanted it. Samantha managed the project while I was busy training so other than the fully kitted out gym and training area, it's not really my style. The creaky hardwood floors, the shiny chrome appliances and the marble counters in the kitchen are nothing like I imagined my house to be.
It's a nice house but I'll take comfort over aesthetics any day of the week.
The pitter patter of tiny footsteps echo down the hall and an enormous smile creeps across my face as I sit up to greet my girl.
“Daddy.” She stands in front of me with her arms crossed, scowling. “Auntie Sarah said you would read me a bedtime story and it's been so long.”
The big bright smile, wide eyes as blue as a tropical ocean and a sassy personality to go with it. She might have my eyes but she's more and more like her mother with each passing day and my heart bursts with love every time I look at her.
She's my absolute world.
“I'm sorry Mads, daddy was just tired. I'm coming now.” Rising from the sofa, I take her tiny hand in mine, and we slowly make our way down the long corridor, up the stairs and into her ridiculously pink bedroom. She lets go of my hand and pulls herself on to her bed, staring at me in anticipation. “What are we reading tonight then? The Enchanted Wood. The Ickabog?”
“Can you tell me a story about mummy?” She pulls the covers over her princess pyjamas and snuggles into her pillow with tired eyes. I want her to remember her mum, but I really wish I didn't have to be the one telling her. “Please daddy.” she begs, and I feel my expression soften.
How can I say no to her?
“Okay, how about I tell you about when mummy and daddy found out you were coming.” I sit on the edge of her bed, letting her cuddle up to me with her favourite teddy bear and I begin.
Ethan Brooks. I've been thinking about him non-stop ever since I left his house an hour and a half ago. Precisely two bus journeys and a twenty-minute walk. Note to self, once you get a job, save up to buy a car.
Heat rises in my body as my mind returns to the awkward moment in the hallway. The moment, like an idiot, I thought he was going to kiss me. Yeah, like that would ever happen!
It's not like I wanted him to either, he's so not my type. I mean, yeah, of course I thought he was hot. I'm not made of stone, but I don't tend to go for thugs who are probably riddled with sexually transmitted diseases because they've been with so many different women. I'll take a gentleman over a smoking hot bad boy any day of the week.
Standing in front of the grubby grey door marked '39', I dig my keys out of my bag, unlock the door, and walk into the cramped one-bedroom apartment, switching the light on as I enter. The smell of my sister's perfume filling my nostrils is so strong, I can almost taste it.
The front door opens straight into the tiny living room which also doubles as a kitchen and dining area, it's only a few steps before I can flop down on the sofa exhausted from the day’s events.
Damn! I was hoping Lexi would be home, so I would have someone to vent to about my tragic interview, but she must be out with friends tonight.
As I play through the interview in my mind, I cringe at how nervous I was. I've never been so intimidated in my life. I'm not usually such a mess. In fact, I'm normally the one who has everything figured out but ever since the break-up, my confidence has taken a bit of a beating.
It's not a shocker to think that I'm never going to hear from him again. I'm pretty sure the interview can be classed as a complete write off. There's no way he'll trust me to look after his kid after my performance today and I can't blame him really. It's probably a good thing though, at least now I won't have to move in with someone who scares the living daylights out of me.
But why can't my brain stop thinking about how good his lips would feel against mine. Even just thinking about it has me all hot and flustered.
Stupid hormones! I shake myself to rid the thoughts from my brain. What the heck is wrong with me!
I walk to the fridge, reach in to grab a cold bottle of beer and as I close the door, something catches my eye.
On the outside of the fridge door are a bunch of alphabet magnets scattered amongst a few of those ugly holiday souvenirs you get given by friends and family when they've been on holiday. I run my hand over the photograph, pinned to the door by an orange letter 'L'.
The photo was taken at my twenty-first birthday party, mum had booked an expensive restaurant and asked one of the waitresses to take a rare picture of the whole family together. Me, Lexi and dad are huddled together pulling faces and mum is sitting with a scowl on her face, refusing to lower herself to our standards enough to have one little moment of fun.
Honestly, it should have been a sign that everything was going to fall apart but it was back when times were simpler, and I thought my life was perfect. When I had the perfect family, the perfect boyfriend and my whole perfect future planned out ahead of me.
Oh, how things have changed.
My once perfect family is now a broken mess, and the boyfriend turned out to be a cheating, lying scum bag who took my future away from me the moment I walked in on him and some tramp.
Rage boils up in me as the vision of him ploughing into the raven-headed underwear model loop in my head — my house, my man, my bed. The look on his face when he realised, I'd caught him red-handed and figured out his affair wasn't a one-time thing was priceless.
The worse thing is, I spent five years with him, waiting for a proposal that never came and after only one month of me moving out, she is living in the house we made together.
It's got to be a phase though. I know he'll come to his senses eventually and realise we're meant to be. We're soul mates.
Trying to shake the images of the Instagram post that broke my heart all over again, I decide to take a quick shower and get an early night.
The earlier soaked material of my s
uit is now rigid and rough against my soft skin as I tear it away from my body as quickly as possible and step into the bath, moving myself underneath the shower head attached to the wall.
Cold water spills out making me shiver, then a few seconds later, warmth flows over my body, washing away the remains of a terrible day.
After my shower, still alone in the apartment, curiosity gets the better of me and I fall down the rabbit hole that is Ethan Brooks.
I know from my interview research — which wasn't very extensive — that the fights are something I struggle to watch. I've always been a bit of a wimp when it comes to bodily fluids and every highlight reel that I've seen so far is a bloody war.
Looking for something a little less like a scene from Carrie and making the decision not to stalk my ex’s new girlfriend on social media looking for a way to bring him back to me, I turn to Google.
For the next hour or so, I read all about the tragic death of Ethan's wife and the loss of his parents when he was younger.
I even start to feel sorry for the guy a little, thinking that maybe I misjudged him, but it doesn’t take long for the bubble to burst when I read about the time he was arrested for starting a brawl outside a night club, putting two people in hospital and the numerous women he's been pictured leaving swanky parties with on a regular basis and I realise that he is exactly like I imagined.
Feeling a little deflated, I default to what has quickly become my new normal and curl up on the sofa with Mr. Gosling and a family sized bar of chocolate.
The cold wakes me in the early hours as the realisation that my bedding is still on the corner table sets in. Half asleep, I fumble around, pull out the sofa bed mattress and try to lay the blankets down for me to crawl back into.
Just as I'm about to drift back off to sleep, I notice the Netflix title screen for The Notebook, my favourite movie in the world glaring at me. Wondering what I have to do to find a man that loves me as much as Noah loved Allie, I turn it off, close my eyes and drift off to sleep, continuing to toss and turn for the rest of the night
I'm wide awake when the alarm finally goes off at seven-thirty. The chorus of birds outside soothing my anxiety as I realise that Lexi still isn't home yet.
A little worried, I reach for the table and after feeling around for a minute, I finally feel the cold glass of my phone. Hopefully, she's either stayed at a friend's or gone home with one of the guys she knows but I text her just to be sure.
Feeling tension in my muscles and a dull ache behind my eyes, I decide to take my mind off her absence by going about my usual morning routine. I clear the crumpled bedding from the sofa and place it in a neatly folded pile on the table, pour myself a black coffee, eat breakfast and then throw on my new Gym Shark sports bra and yoga pants to begin my workout.
I don't usually splash out on expensive sportswear — probably because I don't use it enough to justify the hefty price tag — but I wanted to cheer myself up after the break-up and Lexi talked me into a little retail therapy.
The jangling of keys distracts me from my almost finished session, it reminds me of those nights out where you come home trying to be as quiet as possible but end up making more noise because you can't find the right key. Finally, the door creaks open and in sneaks Lexi, clearly surprised to see me awake.
“Busted” I laugh as she staggers across the floor and then collapses on the sofa in a heap, completing her walk of shame. I can smell the alcohol oozing from her pores as I finish my warrior pose and then take the few steps to the kitchen counter to put the kettle on.
“Do you have to be so loud?” She holds her head in her hands and takes a deep breath as I pour her a cup of strong coffee. Even in yesterday's clothes, bed head hair and panda eyes she still looks effortlessly gorgeous. Like one of those women in a rock video.
I'd love to be able to pull off her style, but I just haven't got her edge or attitude. If I walked out of the building in her heavy makeup, black shiny leggings and sheer lace bodysuit, people would just laugh at me, and I would definitely fall over and break my ankle in those five-inch heels.
Everyone says that we look quite similar, but I really don't see it. She's this beautiful blonde goddess with a body to die for and I'm just the slightly chubby girl next door. Even my mum offered to pay for me to have liposuction for my eighteenth birthday present.
It's not that I'm fat or anything, I'm a comfortable size twelve but when I compare myself to my beautiful, toned, slender sister, I feel like a little baby elephant standing next to a gazelle.
“How was your night?” I enquire as she struggles to keep her eyes open. “Looks like it was a good one.”
Honestly, I can't imagine any of her nights out not being great. She's one of those people who everybody gravitates too. The life and soul of the party.
“Ellie dragged me out to this gig in the Northern Quarter and I drank way too much. Ended up going home with the god damn bass player.” She cringes, then as she looks at me her smile widens “He was super-hot though. Looked a bit like Tom Hardy, but with way better tattoos.”
“When are you seeing him again?”
“Don’t know. He got super weird and clingy, so I had to sneak out before he woke up.” She must sense my disappointment as she continues “Oh don't look at my like that Mia. Not everybody sits around waiting for Mr Right. Some of us prefer to have a bit of fun with Mr Right Now. Besides, you know me and relationships don't mix.”
I love my sister more than anything, but she is an absolute mess. Our dysfunctional family life plays a massive part in that but I'm pretty sure her no strings attached mindset is thanks to some guy she was seeing a couple of years back. Dylan, Derek, or something along those lines.
She was working down in London at the time, so I never met him, but they were living together for about a year, then all of a sudden, she moved back home and refused to speak about it.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” She mutters as she checks her phone, then she jumps up, gulps down her coffee and frantically runs into her bedroom.
I follow her, amused by how quickly her hangover seems to have vanished and suddenly I flinch, and everything goes black.
As I pull her Rolling Stones tee from my head, she continues to throw clothes everywhere, trying to find something to wear.
“What time is it?”
I check my watch. “Eight thirty. Why?”
“I have an audition this afternoon and it's a big one. I completely forgot about it.”
She continues getting ready while asking about my interview, so I explain the comedy of errors leading up to it, and how my nerves nearly gave me an aneurysm.
Of course, she finds it all totally hilarious but I'm sure she'll change her mind when she sobers up and realises that she's stuck with me on her sofa for a little longer.
In the living room, my phone skids across the table as the ring tone startles me.
I pick the phone up and stare at the screen, not recognising the number, but as soon as I am greeted with a deep, gravelly voice on the other end of the line my knees turn to jelly.
“Hi, is that Amelia?”
“Hi, yes this is Mia.” Feeling a little more confident now he's not stood in front of me overwhelming my senses with the scent of whiskey, aftershave, and raw masculinity.
“I just wanted to let you know that you have the job and I'd like you to start on Monday. I'll have a room made up for you today so you can start moving your things in over the weekend.”
His tone is a little more friendly than he seemed in the interview and somehow puts me at ease.
“I... I... I really appreciate the opportunity. Thank you.” I stutter as I accept his offer.
I was absolutely sure that I had tanked yesterday so didn't expect to hear back from him but now that the reality of living with him hits home, a mixture of excitement and nerves flow through me.
Hopefully, he'll be too busy training, so I won't be spending that much time with him anyway. As I try to imagine what his daugh
ter will be like, I zone out and the line goes dead.
“What the fuck was that all about?” Lexi stares at me, confused.
“I've got the job.” I'm in disbelief “I can move my stuff in over the weekend and start on Monday.”
“That's awesome. Finally, I get my apartment back!” she pauses for a minute. “We need to celebrate. Drinks tonight?”
“I guess.” Going out is the last think I want to do but it's not like I can use packing as an excuse. When I moved out of Peter's I was in a hurry and I only grabbed a couple of boxes worth of essentials, couldn't bring myself to go back for more in case she was there.
“Okay, I'm going to grab a shower, then I'll call the gang and tell them to come over for pre-night out drinks.” she picks up her phone, rapidly tapping at her screen. “My audition should be done by six, so I'll tell them to be here by seven. Sound good to you?”
That was obviously a rhetorical question because she's in the shower before I even get the chance to answer, leaving me to start gathering my things together ready for my big move.
I wake to a hazy head, unable to move my arm as I slowly open my heavy eyelids and stare at the ceiling. It can't be time to wake up already.
Instead of the expected shroud of darkness, the sun blazes in through a crack in the curtain. Groaning and rubbing at my tired eyes, I look towards my bedside table to see the digital display read nine-thirty.
I glance down in the direction of my dead arm, immediately identifying the cause. A nest of ratty brown hair slightly obscures the naked body draped heavily over my torso.
I let out a sigh. Fuck! This is last thing I need.
Gently, I try to pull my arm from underneath her but it's no use, instead, I try to carefully roll her off me, praying that she won't wake up. She lets out a little moan, mumbling under her breath before drifting back to sleep.