Dirty Boxing

by Harper St. George

  “Go get dressed. It’s okay,” Nick said.

  She patted his cheek. The gesture was so tender it made Jules’ chest ache. “Okay, I’ll be fast.” Then she turned and said, “Thank you, Jules,” before making her way up the stairs.

  Jules carried another load of dishes to the sink to rinse them before loading them into the dishwasher. Nick came up behind her and put his hands on her hips as he kissed her neck. “Thanks,” he whispered.

  “No problem.” She smiled and turned her head for a quick kiss. “Why don’t you go spend some time with your brother? I’ll finish in here.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

  He gave her a squeeze and then followed Alex into the living room. Their voices carried through the open doorway between the two rooms. Jules couldn’t make out every word, but it sounded like Alex was remembering a story involving their dad and the family restaurant. Nick laughed, and if she was honest, Jules experienced a pang of jealousy. She was glad that he had his family. That they had such a happy and rich history together. But she was also envious. She’d really gotten screwed in the childhood department.

  Jules took her time cleaning up, wanting to give them as much time alone as possible. Maria kept an immaculate kitchen, so when Jules was satisfied that every crumb had been picked up, she made her way to the living room. She was surprised to find it empty and realized the voices were coming from a small room off to the side. Following the sound, she paused just outside an archway that led into a small den she hadn’t noticed earlier. A bookcase filled with Greek titles stared back at her. Nick sat on a brown leather couch at the far end of the room. She caught a faint whiff of old cigar smoke and wondered if this place was his father’s room.

  She meant to walk into the room, but then Alex turned to face Nick, his arms out at his sides. “There’s nothing you can say or do to convince me that this relationship is a good idea, Nick. She hurt you once, she’ll do it again.” Alex’s voice was loud, not in anger, but in frustration.

  Her heart pounded in her ears, and she took a step backward. She should go, but she wanted to hear Nick’s response. After several long seconds, she got her wish.

  “Yeah, she hurt me, but I forgave her. Things aren’t always black and white.”

  “I guess it’s easy to forgive her when she looks like that,” said Alex, his voice rising.

  Of course Alex hated her. He loved his brother and had witnessed firsthand the way she’d broken Nick’s heart. And now he was giving Nick a hard time for bringing her to Chicago.

  “Fuck you,” said Nick, his voice louder and angrier than before.

  “Where has she been this past year, Nico? Where was she when you won the belt? Where was she when you hurt your shoulder and thought you might need surgery? She didn’t care about any of that.”

  She flinched at the accusations, and her hands shook as she ran her palms over her thighs. Alex was right. She hadn’t been there, and she hated that. The last thing she wanted to do was to bring strife into his family when they were going through such a difficult time. Maybe this was a sign that she didn’t belong here. But she couldn’t bring herself to walk away. She stood, paralyzed, as Nick and Alex argued.

  “You ever stop to wonder why I’m hitting such a nerve?” Alex asked. “It’s because you know I’m right.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Fine. You don’t think I’m right, but you’re scared that I am. If everything was perfect and you didn’t think she was gonna pull another disappearing act, you wouldn’t be freaking the fuck out when I tell you to be careful. You might’ve forgiven her, but I doubt you’ve forgotten the hell she put you through.”

  She closed her eyes against the painful truth of Alex’s words. She couldn’t blame him for not believing she was good enough for his brother.

  Nick let out a sound, almost a snarl, and rose from the couch, brushing by Alex as he paced to the window. A heavy silence settled over the room.

  Nick’s voice was raspy when he finally spoke. “I want to believe that you’re wrong. That you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” He took a deep breath, his shoulders falling. “But I can’t. Because I am scared. I don’t want to be, but I am. I want everything with her, and if she . . . if we don’t . . . I’m trusting history not to repeat itself here.”

  She pressed her fingers against her mouth and swallowed around the ache in her throat. Hearing that he didn’t believe she was all in hurt, because no matter how good things had been between them lately, he’d been holding a piece of himself back.

  Alex sighed. “I don’t want to fight, Nick. I just want you to see what I see. What would you say to me if the situation were reversed?” His voice was quieter now, more measured.

  Nick turned, and Jules wanted to throw up at the pained expression on his face. “I know. But she’s trying, and you being a shit doesn’t help.”

  Alex ducked his head and then nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just . . . She wrecked you, man. So even though you’ve forgiven her, I guess I haven’t.”

  “Forgiveness doesn’t mean that I think what she did was okay,” said Nick, speaking slowly. “It doesn’t mean that I don’t feel shitty about the way she ended things. It doesn’t mean we don’t have stuff to work out.” He sighed. “It means that I’m trying to make peace with what happened. She’s not perfect, but neither am I.”

  “What if she hurts you again? What if all you’re doing is perpetuating this toxic cycle?”

  “I don’t know.” Nick shrugged.

  Careful of the floorboards under her feet, she turned and hurried upstairs and into Nick’s room, easing the door closed behind her. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she pressed a hand to her cheek as she sank down onto the mattress.

  Doubt after doubt barreled into her. The doubt that she’d ever fit in with Nick’s family. The doubt that Alex would ever accept her. The doubt that she could be the partner Nick deserved—supportive and loving. The doubt that she wouldn’t fuck everything up and send Nick running into the arms of someone less damaged. The doubt that she and Nick wouldn’t crash and burn because even though she was trying, she couldn’t change her DNA, or forget about the scars from her childhood. She’d had nothing but terrible examples growing up. It was as though no one had ever really taught her how to swim, and now she was in the middle of a lake, trying to figure out how to keep her head above water.

  The thoughts swamped her and she dropped her head into her hands, taking several deep breaths as she tried to sort through everything. But when it came down to it, there were only two things she knew for certain.

  One: she was hopelessly in love with Nick.

  Two: not even love could save her from drowning if she didn’t figure out how to swim.

  “Maria, please, I’m fine, okay? I don’t need a blanket. Just come sit with me.” Nick’s father patted the empty space beside him on the sofa.

  Nick stood by the window in his father’s study, savoring the sight of his father on the old brown leather sofa. Home, where he belonged.

  “You want your slippers?” his mom asked, her hands fluttering at her sides.

  “No, darling. I just want to sit with you. Please.”

  At that, his mother smiled and sank down onto the sofa beside him, leaning into him as he put his arm around her shoulders. Alex came back into the room, a glass of water in his hand. He handed it to their father along with a couple of pills for his blood pressure and cholesterol. He took them without a fuss, setting the glass on the coffee table beside the sofa.

  The doctors had kept his father in the hospital for three days to run tests and keep him under observation, while giving him time to rest and recover. Earlier that morning, they’d said he could go home, and Nick and Alex had signed him out and driven him straight here. He was under strict instructions to take it eas
y for the next several days, but his overall prognosis was good. The heart attack hadn’t just scared Nick, it had scared his father as well, and he knew he’d take the lifestyle changes required of him seriously. Once his father set his mind to something, it was as good as done. It was one of the many things Nick admired about him.

  Jules poked her head into the room, and Nick sent her a smile. She returned it, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes. For the past couple of days she’d been in a quiet mood, most likely trying to stay out of the way. She’d remained home with his mom, helping her tidy up, and although it was a simple gesture, it was one that had made him feel all warm and gushy inside. He knew family stuff wasn’t easy for Jules, but she and his mom were getting along well. Last night while Jules had been working, his mom had taken him aside and told him how much she liked her, “despite what Alex said.” It made Nick happy that his mom liked Jules. And it pissed him off that Alex had told her about their history. Although they’d mostly moved past it, a part of him was still pissed at Alex, not because of what he’d said, but because of the way he’d called Nick out on his fears. The fact that Alex was still being a dick to Jules didn’t help either.

  Nick stepped forward and motioned her into the room. “Dad, this is my girlfriend, Jules.”

  His father smiled warmly and clasped her extended hand between both of his. “Hello, Jules. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Jules returned his smile. “It’s nice to meet you too. How are you feeling?”

  “Better than a few days ago, I can tell you that. Happy to be home. Come, sit. Let’s talk.” He gestured at the armchair adjacent to the sofa. Alex moved out of the way, brushing coldly by Jules. Anger flared up in Nick’s chest, but he tamped it down. He wasn’t about to pick a fight in front of their father.

  Jules talked easily with his father, patiently answering all of his questions about her job, where she grew up, her family. He asked if she had any hobbies, what kind of books she liked to read. If she wanted to get married and have babies. She’d blushed slightly at that, ducking her head and chewing her lip. But her quiet yes had sent Nick’s heart thundering in his chest.

  After Jules chatted with his father for a while, her phone buzzed and she politely excused herself to answer it. She’d been doing her best to stay on top of work while here, waking early to answer emails and taking phone calls throughout the day.

  His father nodded approvingly. “Such a nice girl, Nico. I like her. Very beautiful. Very smart.”

  Nick sank down into Jules’ chair, still warm from her body. “She is. I’m glad you like her. I like her too.”

  His father sat back, his hands folded over his stomach. “Only like?” he asked, a skeptical eyebrow inching up his forehead.

  Nick let out a half laugh, half sigh. “More than like.”

  His father nodded knowingly, and Nick wished he could savor this moment without the doubts Alex had raised intruding, tarnishing it.

  If only he could be sure that Alex wasn’t right.

  19

  Jules sat across from her dad at his desk, waiting for him to finish his phone call so they could get to this urgent meeting he’d called her in for. It was already after lunch and she had about a million things to do before she could go home, which would probably mean another late night. At the thought, her shoulders sagged in relief, but that was immediately followed by guilt. She and Nick had returned from Chicago over a week ago, and she was still looking for ways to avoid him.

  She felt horrible about it, but things were awkward between them now. Ever since she’d overheard him arguing with Alex she hadn’t been able to relax around him. Despite everything Nick had said to her, all of his reassurances that the past was in the past, he still didn’t trust her. He was still waiting for her to screw up. Maybe she deserved that, but it hurt. It cut even deeper because his reassurances that he’d be there to catch her had helped her to realize that she loved him. Now she wasn’t sure that he would be there. How could he be if he doubted her?

  Realizing she loved Nick was something she still hadn’t come to terms with, especially in the wake of hearing his doubts. As a result, she hadn’t talked to him about what she’d heard.

  Nick hadn’t helped matters. He’d been different ever since that day, quieter and more pensive. Some of it was worry about his dad, even though it seemed like he’d be okay. Some of it was Nick being focused on the tournament. But she had no doubt that most of it was from the confrontation with Alex.

  She’d simply have to prove to Nick that she wasn’t looking for a reason to run this time, and the only way to do that was to stay. With the tournament and his dad’s health, now wasn’t the time to talk to him about what she’d overheard, but she would eventually. And afterward, she’d try to talk to Alex and smooth things over.

  “Thursday, Al.” Her dad’s voice got louder and interrupted her thoughts. “If we don’t get that contract signed by Thursday, I can’t announce it at the press conference.”

  Al was the WFC’s attorney. His reply was indiscernible, but her father nodded and smiled. His eyes were bright with excitement as they caught hers. She’d assumed the call was related to a fighter’s contract, but he’d already heard from all the big names he’d wanted to sign, so his level of enthusiasm gave her pause.

  “Thanks. Let me know ASAP.” Her dad nodded and disconnected the call. When Jules opened her mouth to ask what was going on, he raised a finger signaling he needed a moment. He shifted through the messy piles on his desk before giving up. “Deb,” he called through the open door of his office. “Bring me the Mereo proposal.”

  Mereo Athletics was a well-known brand of athletic apparel. Since her dad’s takeover of the WFC, the company had regularly cosponsored fight nights. Jules had even been involved in finalizing the details of their cosponsorship of the tournament, but this was the first she was hearing of a proposal. Not surprising, given the way he wanted to control everything. “What’s going on with Mereo?”

  Her dad’s face split into a grin. “They’re impressed with our marketing for the tournament. I gotta hand it to you, Julian, you really came through with polishing our image. The WFC isn’t seen as a band of short-tempered fighters with beer-swilling hooligans as the only fans anymore.”

  Jules smiled at his rare compliment, and she couldn’t help but laugh at his description of the league. “Short-tempered fighter” suited him perfectly.

  He chuckled too. “All right, I might resemble that first part. But the important thing is we’re coming across as a respectable sports league, and respectable sports leagues get big sponsorships.”

  “Okay, so what sort of sponsorship is Mereo offering?” she asked.

  “For the next five years, they want to be the exclusive apparel supplier for our fighters. We’ll work together to create designs that promote both of our brands, and they’ll be showcased in the octagon and anywhere there’s a fucking camera. People will be able to buy WFC-branded stuff anywhere Mereo is sold. It’s huge.”

  Deb walked in with the proposal and handed the binder to him. “We have an intercom now. You just push this little button right here.” She pointed to the rectangular button on the phone on his desk. “It’ll spare your vocal chords and my hearing.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled as he opened the proposal.

  Deb raised a brow and gave Jules a look, but before Jules could interpret it, he was leaning over the desk to place the binder in front of her. Flipping through the pages, he revealed glossy photos of mock-up apparel from fight shorts to T-shirts to footwear.

  “Wow, this is great,” she said, feeling her excitement grow. With a major sponsor behind them, even more fighters would sign on with the league, and the price for ad time during televised fights would skyrocket. “I’m guessing Mereo is paying well for this?”

  “We’re still hammering out the details, but I’m confident they’ll come up in their offer. We
’ll be looking at around fifteen million, give or take.”

  That made Jules’ eyebrows shoot up. It was exactly the influx of cash the league needed right now, but he’d turned to the page that outlined the deal in broad terms and the word exclusivity jumped out at her. “That’s great, Dad, but how will this affect the fighters? They all have their own sponsors. Will they be able to keep them?” She thought of Nick’s fight gear and the clothes the fighters wore during a bout. Their shirts and shorts looked like NASCAR cars, covered in their sponsors’ logos. In exchange for wearing the logo during a fight—and thus getting the logo airtime—the sponsors paid the fighters. The fighters used that sponsorship money, in addition to the purse money earned with each fight, to support themselves while training.

  He shrugged. “They can keep their own sponsors as long as the sponsor isn’t an apparel company and they wear the provided Mereo gear for official events.”

  “But won’t they end up losing some sponsors?” She frowned. Outside of the octagon, there were few outlets for up-and-coming fighters to display a sponsor’s ad, which would make sponsoring a fighter much less lucrative.

  “Maybe a few,” he conceded. “But they’ll each get a chunk of the Mereo money. This way they can focus on training and winning fights without worrying about negotiating with sponsors and tracking down the deadbeats who won’t pay up. This deal is better for everyone.”

  “You don’t really think it’ll be that easy, do you?” Deb said from the door. Jules turned and saw her leaning against the doorway and realized the woman had never left the room. “Mark my words, Craig.” She shook her finger at him. “The fighters won’t be happy about this, and you’d better be ready for the backlash.”

  Jules got the feeling that the two of them had had this conversation before. “You haven’t said anything to them?” she asked, already knowing the answer. If he’d talked to the fighters, Nick would’ve mentioned something.

  “You know your father.” Deb shook her head and walked off toward her desk. “Shoot first, ask questions later,” she called over her shoulder.