Fighting Dirty

by Sidney Halston

  “Fuck no.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, didn’t think you’d be up for that. Option three is that we just take the stairs.” He undid the harness holding the rope to her body, then did the same with his. He took her hands in his and pulled her away from the cliff toward the back wall of the warehouse.

  She looked down at the wide, safe staircase, which even had a railing, and smiled. “God, you already know me so well.” They went down the stairs together, and he didn’t let go of her hand. She felt a little self-conscious about it at first but also liked the feel of his big strong hand around hers. “I’m sorry I broke down up there.”

  “It’s cool.”

  “I’m embarrassed,” she admitted.

  He stopped halfway down and tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed. I meant it when I said I was proud of you. Anyone who tries to tackle a fear like this on their own is someone to admire. And on a first date, no less.” They both chuckled. “You’re a hell of a woman, Jamie Lynn.”

  She smiled shyly as they continued to walk down.

  Chapter 5

  “There’s a pier about a quarter of a mile that way.” JL pointed to her right as they walked out of the climbing gym. “Want to go for a walk?”

  “Sure.” Enzo took her hand in his and laced their fingers together. She looked down at their joined hands and then up at him. “Is this okay?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She nodded. “It’s…actually…it’s nice.”

  “Yeah, it is.” He paused for a moment. “So why the hair color change?”

  “Dunno. Just felt like it, I guess.”

  “What’s your natural color?”

  “Blond.”

  “Really?” He looked at her hair for a moment. “Can’t picture it.”

  She laughed. “Neither can I. It’s been a while.”

  “So, tell me about your art class. I didn’t know you liked to draw.”

  “Not many people do. Violet knew, but only because she lived with me. I love it.”

  “Did you design your tattoos?” he asked, looking at her arm.

  “Some of them.” She let go of his hand and pointed to the black lace design on her right arm. “I designed this one.”

  He ran a finger down her arm. “It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen a tattoo like that before.” He turned her arm to look at the inside. “I don’t know much about tattoos, but that seems like a lot of work.”

  “It was. It took a few sessions.”

  “Did it hurt?”

  “Like a bitch.” She laughed. “Especially the inside of my arm.”

  As they started to walk again he asked, “Is it your favorite one?”

  She shook her head. “Nope.”

  “Which one’s your favorite?”

  She smiled flirtatiously but said nothing.

  “You’re not going to show me, are you?”

  “Nope,” she sassed.

  “You’ll beg me to see it some other time,” he said as he caught up with her. That reminded her of the challenge he’d issued after the infamous kiss that had taken her breath away and made all her nerve endings tingle.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked a moment later, when she didn’t reply.

  “Nothing.” They continued to walk down the pier. It was empty, the sun was shining brightly, and there were birds flying high in the clear blue sky. It was a beautiful day. “You don’t have any tattoos?”

  “Nope. Not one.”

  “You don’t like them, do you?” she asked.

  “You’ve got to understand where and how I grew up. I went to the best boarding schools, then I went to Harvard. I lived a sheltered life.”

  She said matter-of-factly, “People in your circle don’t have sleeves.”

  “Or magenta-colored hair.” He ran his free hand through her hair.

  “So why are you so interested in going out with me? Obviously I’m not your type, Enzo. Sometimes you look repulsed by what you see, and other times…” Her voice trailed off.

  He cupped her face. “And other times I look like I want to lick every tattoo on your body?” He lowered his face, looking like he was about to kiss her. “That’s because I do. I find you so very attractive, Jamie Lynn. I would never, nor have I ever, found you repulsive,” he said firmly, leaving no room for misinterpreting his words.

  They had reached a staircase that led from the pier down to the beach, and Enzo pulled her down the steps and toward the ocean. “I’d love to see your art one day.” When she held up her tattooed arm, he added, “Not just the ones on your body.” Then he leaned closer, his lips merely inches from her neck. “Although I’d love to see all the ones on your body.” She shuddered as his breath tickled her skin. “I mean your sketches. Your drawings.”

  “Maybe one day.”

  “That didn’t sound encouraging.”

  “I don’t show my art to anyone. In fact, before yesterday, aside from Violet, no one even knew I drew. Maybe they suspected I designed my tattoos, but that’s about it.”

  “So, what else do you do, Jamie Lynn? You’re an enigma to me.” He motioned for her to sit on the sand, and when she did, he followed. “You work at a bar, and not that it’s not a good job, but I can’t see you being a waitress forever. You like to draw, but you keep it a secret and it doesn’t look like you’re making a career out of it. Today people were falling at your feet to give you things. You know everyone, and everyone seems to like you. I just…I feel like I’m missing something.”

  She shrugged and hugged her knees to her chest. “Not really. That’s about it. I didn’t have the economic means to go to a fancy art school. I work to pay my bills. I sketch because I love it. I also love yoga and food. Really, there’s not much else.” She nudged him a little with her elbow. “How about you? You act like you have it all figured out. You wear your suit all day. Make a shitload of money and your life is complete and perfect.”

  He snorted. “It’s not perfect. Not at all. I have a failed marriage at thirty-two, my father’s up my ass to get me back to Brazil, I have business things to deal with here, people’s jobs are on the line if I don’t close these deals, and as of yesterday, I can’t do the one thing I love, which is fight.”

  “What?”

  “You see, in Brazil, MMA is a big thing. Huge. Brazilian jiujitsu is everywhere. But it’s not something people in my circle do. I’ve always loved it, and I planned to devote a lot more time to it once I moved here, since I don’t have a bunch of people breathing down my neck and judging me. Except I just haven’t had the time. So I’m stuck fighting in the amateur circuit.”

  “So?” She shook her head. “Be the best freakin’ amateur fighter in the damn circuit.”

  “You’re a ‘when life gives you lemons’ kind of woman, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, I am. And you’re a ‘when life gives you lemons, you say fuck the lemons and bail’ kind of man.”

  He laughed. “You’re always ready with a comeback, aren’t you?”

  “That’s from a movie, by the way. Forgetting Sarah Marshall. So funny.”

  “Never seen it,” he said.

  “Yeah, I figured. We’re so different, you and I.”

  “Are we?” He turned to look at her. “Maybe I’m not who you think I am. Hell, maybe I’m not who I think I am. Maybe I’ve just been stuck in a life I didn’t want to be in, and maybe this is where I’m supposed to be, and maybe I want to change.”

  “That’s deep, Enzo,” she said with a laugh.

  “I can be deep.” He smiled back, then wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “So you think I should just embrace my situation and fight in the amateur circuit?”

  “I think your problem is that you’ve never been denied anything. You’ve never been anything but the best at whatever it is that you do, and now you’re in a huff about not fighting professionally. You said it yourself—you’re a thirty-two-year-old man with a successful career. Not a job, but a career. You’re not Slade or
Tony or Travis, whose lives revolve around fighting. It defines them. It’s their careers. That’s not you. You’re the nerdy but hot banker. So, suck it up, Pretty Boy, and fight in the amateur circuit, for fun. It doesn’t have to be a life-defining career change.”

  “You really think you’ve got me pegged, don’t you?” he said, leaning slightly toward her.

  “I don’t think I’ve you pegged. I know I’ve got you pegged.” She turned and rose onto her knees to look at him. “You’re on a date with me because I’m different. I’m taboo. I’m the kind of girl your parents hate. You’re rebelling.”

  In a swift motion he pushed her down, and she squealed. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m on a date with you because you’re the most beautiful, sexiest woman I’ve ever met.”

  “And I’m different. Different from what you’re used to.”

  “You could say the same thing about me, couldn’t you?” he said as he leaned into her, his body almost on top of her, his thumb rubbing her cheek.

  She pushed him off and quickly switched their positions around so that she was on top. “Nah. You have that wrong. I’ve dated you before. Preppy suits. Been there, done that, have the bumper sticker.”

  “Yeah? What did the bumper sticker say?”

  “Nothing good.” She laid her head down on her laced fingers on his chest. “That’s why I like to stay away from men like you.”

  “But here we are.”

  “But here we are,” she repeated softly, then rolled onto her back next to him.

  Jamie Lynn was quiet for a little longer than necessary, which made him uneasy.

  “It’s just one date,” she said finally, as if she was trying to convince herself. “One long date, though,” she amended with a cute laugh.

  And it was turning out to be one of the best dates he’d ever had.

  “So, back to this fight situation,” she said. “I think you should suck it up and just work on kicking ass. Who do you fight?”

  “His name is Raymundo Hernandez. He’s a total jerk. He wins every fight. Doesn’t go pro because he gets into trouble all the time and has been banned from most circuits.”

  “Nice.”

  “Yep. He’s crazy. Literally. He has a tattoo on his head that says CRAZY.”

  “Ouch,” she said with a laugh. “You want to TP his house? We can do that next. It can be part of our date. Toilet paper’s on me.”

  He rolled onto his side to look at her. “The funny thing is that I think you’d really do it. I don’t think you’re just teasing.”

  She turned her body and looked at him seriously. “I’m usually pretty straightforward, if you haven’t noticed yet.”

  “Yes, I’ve definitely noticed,” he said, placing his palm on the side of her face and caressing her cheek with his thumb. “So aside from being brutally honest and busting balls, what else do you like to do?”

  She opened her eyes but continued to hold his hand on her face, their bodies now close together. “I love to read.”

  “Me too,” he said. “What kinds of books?”

  “All kinds, but mostly biographies, especially artist biographies.” She sat up abruptly, and his hand fell to his side. “Oh! I know what’s next on our date.” She was so enthusiastic when she was excited about something, he thought.

  “You’re planning this date as you go, aren’t you?”

  She brought her finger up to his nose and poked it. “You’re a smart gazillionaire.” Then she laughed, took his hand, helped him up, and then eagerly led him back to his car. There was just something about her, he thought. The way she was bubbly and excited about the little things in life was so refreshing and made him want to see life through her eyes. It wasn’t that she wore rose-colored glasses—after all, she worked at a bar—but nothing seemed to bring her down. It made him want to stay inside that bubble of hers and shield her from anything that would make her unhappy. But at the same time, he wanted to absorb all her positive energy and gather strength from it.

  —

  “What the hell are you doing?” Enzo whispered. It was already beginning to get dark out, and he’d driven them to the local library, as she’d instructed.

  “Shh!” she said as she tiptoed to the side of the building.

  “Jamie Lynn,” he whispered, but she was too far ahead of him.

  “Come on, help me up,” she said, her hand on his shoulder, as she tried to look into the window.

  “Are you crazy?”

  “Come on, live a little!” She jumped up but wasn’t tall enough to grab the ledge.

  He groaned, not believing what he was about to do. In spite of his best judgment, he grabbed her waist and hoisted her up. She grasped the ledge and he pushed her feet up as she crawled through the window. He’d never done anything illegal. Nothing. He hadn’t even partaken in underage drinking when he was younger. She poked her head out the window. “You coming?”

  Fuck it. He jumped up and pulled himself through the window.

  She grabbed his hand and pulled him further into the library. “Don’t you love the smell of old books?” She grabbed her phone from her pocket, opened the flashlight app, and went in search of something.

  “You know, now they have these things called e-readers and apps for your phone, and you could download a book for like two bucks.”

  “Ha-ha. I’ll have you know that I have a Kindle and a Nook as well as an iPad, Pretty Boy,” she teased. “But this is an art book. It’s not the same. You need to touch it. See it in person.” She kept scanning the spines of the books. “Aha! Here we go.” She pulled a book out, sat down on the floor cross-legged, and started flipping through the pages. He rolled his eyes before proceeding to sit down on the floor with her.

  “Look here!” She pointed animatedly. “This is my favorite. It’s called Three Studies of a Dancer. It’s by—”

  “Edgar Degas,” he said, finishing her sentence. She turned her face to look at him, her eyebrows pulled together.

  “You know Degas? They’re mostly ballerinas.”

  “There was an exhibit some years back at the National Gallery of Art in Washington. I was in town and had the opportunity to see it. I thought his sculptures were beautiful.”

  The way she looked at him at that moment…something changed. Something clicked. She looked away, almost shyly, and turned the page of the book. “Did you see Little Dancer?”

  “Yes,” he replied. Again he noticed that she was looking at him differently. Her eyes were wide, almost in wonderment, and her delicate smile was sincere and sweet. It was as if she was seeing him for the first time. She blinked a few times before turning her gaze back to the book.

  “Maybe someday.” She said it so quietly he barely heard her.

  “I have to admit, I wouldn’t have pegged you as a fan of Degas. I’d have thought you’d like something more abstract.” He playfully pulled her magenta-colored hair. “Or, something more colorful. Like Matisse or something.” He brushed her cheeks with his thumb as she looked back up at him. “One day I’ll take you to an exhibit.”

  The soft look quickly dissipated, and as quickly as her fortress had cracked, it was back up and stronger. She cleared her throat. “Laying it on pretty thick, aren’t you, Pretty Boy?” She turned the page, clearly trying to change the subject. “I love his sketches. Look how he captures her movements with each stroke. They’re so dainty and pretty, aren’t they?”

  “Yes, but I also see their fierce determination. Look at their faces. And there’s sadness too.” He leaned a little closer to her. “Just like you.”

  She rocked slightly toward him and nudged his ribs. “Sad? Please. I’m the happiest chick you’ll ever meet.”

  She was definitely hiding something—that much he knew. But this was also a great date and it wasn’t time to get into anything heavy. “You know a lot about art,” he said in a feeble attempt at lightening the conversation.

  “Yeah, I love to read and I love art.”

  “You
should go to art school.”

  She snorted. “I’m thirty. I work at a bar.”

  “You’re only thirty,” he corrected her. “And you work at a bar because you need a job. Do something you love.”

  She shrugged and continued flipping through the pages.

  “You’re beautiful, Jamie Lynn,” he said all of a sudden. He couldn’t help it. She was. With the soft glow from her app and in the old library, she seemed so genuine and sweet. Not that she wasn’t always genuine, but she normally wasn’t all that sweet. She was snarky and witty and confident. “This has been the best date I’ve ever had.”

  She smiled back at him. “It has been a great date.” She closed the book and leaned closer. “Are you going to kiss me now?” she asked dreamily.

  Her words and tone made him chuckle. He cupped the side of her neck and his thumb caressed her cheek. “I don’t see you begging yet.”

  She had just opened her mouth to say something when the sounds of sirens startled them both. “Shit!” She slammed the book shut and slid it back to its home on the bookshelf. He stood and helped her up, his heart beating frantically in his chest.

  Enzo pulled her toward the window they’d come in through, the moment effectively ruined. He jumped out first and then reached up to help her down. His adrenaline was pounding through his body as they began to run through the grassy field toward his car.

  “Do not move! Hands where I can see them!” A blinding light shone in their eyes.

  If he got arrested, his father would have a coronary. He’d lose his trust fund, his business, everything. Not to mention the implications for the businesses and their connections. He was beginning to panic. He turned to look at Jamie Lynn, who had stopped as well. But instead of seeming scared to death, she was lowering her hands and…was that a smirk?

  “Jack?” She squinted. “Jack, is that you?”

  “JL?”

  The light shut off, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. He heard footsteps coming closer. “What the hell are you two doing breaking into the public library?”

  Jamie Lynn hugged her friend before answering. “Why would a captain in the Tarpon Springs police force be answering a call about a library?”