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Misadventures in the Cage

Page 7

by Sarah Robinson


  Josie looked at her mother, who seemed to be eating up this story line along with Jamie. “Ma, you’re okay with this?”

  After all, her mother had just reamed her out about the competition a minute ago.

  Her mother paused for a moment. “I think it’s one dinner. Harmless. As long as everyone is on their best behavior.”

  She got the subtle dig—a reminder to never do anything to screw the family.

  “So go get your mic on, because we’re going to stage the scene between the two of you as soon as Xavier finishes shooting and leaves,” Sessions finished explaining and then handed her a call sheet with instructions.

  Sure, she was a reality television star, but that didn’t mean all their shows were reality. Staged and scripted was a more accurate version of their reality. Josie wondered if that was where she got lying so easily from—living a fake version of her life day in and day out.

  “Ma, I don’t know about this…” Josie cautioned her mother, seeing the potential pitfalls. “Don’t you think it’s too much of a conflict?”

  Shondra shook her head. “I actually think this could be great for Xav,” she explained. “If you can keep Walsh distracted for a few days, maybe even get him to fall in love, then Xav could run him over in the ring.”

  “Ma!” Josie’s eyes widened. “I’m not going to trick some guy just so Xav can get a win.”

  Her mother cut her eyes to her. “I didn’t say go have sex with him,” she clarified. “Just play with his head a little. Get him off his game. You wouldn’t do this for family? For your brother?”

  Josie groaned internally at the reminder. Fuck this family.

  Producers came over and set up her mic pack around her waist under her clothes and then prepped her with a few dialogue lines that they really wanted her to hit. Josie put the conversation with her mother out of her head and tried to focus on the show. She filmed a few behind-the-scenes clips and interviews and then talked with producers about how the rest of the show would go with Callan.

  It was all business and fake as hell. Just the way she lived her life.

  An hour later, Xavier had finished shooting and was on his way to his next event, while Callan still lingered.

  Josie pulled out her phone and fired off a quick text to Callan.

  Are we really doing this?

  If that’s what you want.

  As if she had a say in any of this. Though, to be truthful for once, she was actually looking forward to the idea of a formal date with Callan. It would be nice to actually be seen in public and spend time with one another outside of his penthouse. The fact was, she really liked the guy.

  “Josie, right?” Callan approached her as she was packing a bag of outfit choices her brother had brought with him for the photo shoot.

  She glanced up at him as he moved in. Thick brown hair in waves around his face, tattoos rippling against his skin as he stood shirtless in front of her. God, she couldn’t help but remember how amazing his body had felt pressed against her in bed not so long ago. He smoldered when he moved, and there was no doubt he had the attention of every woman in the room.

  But he was here. With her.

  Nerves fluttered in her stomach, which was odd because she knew exactly what was going to happen. She’d already read the script. Why am I nervous?

  “Yes,” she replied, extending a hand to him as if they were just meeting for the first time. “And you’re Callan Walsh.”

  He blushed slightly—actually blushed. It was rather adorable. “That’s me.”

  “How can I help you, Mr. Walsh?” she asked, tucking the rest of her brother’s clothes into the suitcase and zipping it up. “I’m about to head out.”

  Callan kicked at the ground lightly where he was standing, seeming to try to find his words. A camera crew surrounded them, their lenses focused on them for a tight shot. Josie wondered if Callan had ever been filmed like this before, and maybe nerves were getting the better of him.

  But then he looked up at her—kind eyes with slight crinkles in the corners—and a smile overtook his expression. He was pandering to the cameras.

  She had to control her lips from slipping into a grin, keeping a thin line to her mouth. What a natural.

  “I couldn’t help but notice you throughout the photo shoot,” he said, leaning in a little closer. “I was wondering if maybe you wanted to grab dinner tonight? Drinks?”

  Josie stood up straight and faced him, lifting one brow as she took him in. “Drinks, huh?”

  “Could be fun.” He winked at her. Actually winked. My God, the man was made for television. “It can be our little secret.”

  “If my brother found out…” she warned, hitting the talking points in the script she’d been given.

  Callan moved closer, running his hand down her arm in a gentle caress. “I won’t tell if you don’t tell.”

  He then stepped back and gave her a wide grin. “Tonight. Seven o’clock. Niro’s.”

  Niro’s was one of her favorite restaurants and incredibly hard to get into. It was on the strip and had a reservation list tighter than Fort Knox.

  “Okay,” she said simply, lifting the suitcase and making her way toward the exit.

  She could feel his eyes on her as she walked away, and she loved every second of it.

  Tonight might be a fake date, but her excitement was very real.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “When’s the last time you’ve even been on a date?” Samson asked Callan, handing him a shirt he’d just picked up from the dry cleaners.

  Callan shrugged. He wasn’t about to reveal the truth to his assistant, because as much as he trusted the guy, he also knew his tendency to be a bit loose-lipped when it came to gossip. “It’s been a while,” he said simply. “Dating hasn’t really been a priority of mine.”

  Samson just nodded. “Well, this shirt works perfectly on you. Just remember to wine and dine her. You really want her to like you for the show. It’s important for your image that you come across as the good guy.”

  “I still can’t believe you convinced me to do this.” Callan pulled on his shirt and examined himself in the mirror. “I’ve never been on a reality television show before.”

  “We’re trying to make you famous in more than just the UFC market, Cal,” Samson reminded him. “This show will boost your popularity and expose you to an entirely new audience.”

  He understood, but that still didn’t mean he wasn’t reluctant. When he’d first figured out that Josie was a reality television star, he’d been a bit reticent to continue things with her, especially considering his own career path and how that might affect him. He was already worried enough that his entanglement with her would be a distraction from the fight in a few days.

  He hadn’t thought of it as a positive, however. Samson took one look at it and saw dollar signs.

  “You were meant to be on television,” Samson assured him. “You were meant to be a star.”

  Callan didn’t necessarily agree, but he wasn’t about to argue with the facts—he needed more publicity to expand his career, and Josie had an entire platform of untapped potential fans. It was a win-win.

  “Want me to come with you for the filming?” Samson asked, handing him his jacket and tie as they headed for the door in preparation to leave for the restaurant.

  “And chaperone my date?” Callan shook his head. “I think I’ll be fine on my own.”

  “I’ll text you halfway through to see how it’s going,” Samson compromised.

  Thirty minutes later, his driver was pulling up in front of Niro’s, where he saw a camera crew already waiting for him outside.

  “Walsh,” a tall man with curly brown hair called out to him as he stepped out of the car. He extended his hand and shook the man’s hand. “Jamie Sessions. Ready to do this? The sound man is going to get a mic on you, and then I’ll go over a few talking points.”

  “Is Josie already here?” Callan asked the producer.

  Jamie shook hi
s head. “She’s meeting with my assistant producer and going over her talking points now. She’ll be here in about ten minutes.”

  They set him up with a mic pack under his shirt, and Jamie gave him some suggestions of things to go over during dinner that they wanted to film. It was all very…clinical and not at all what he was expecting for his first date with Josie. He found himself a little disappointed.

  When the camera crew was finally ready, they began filming just as Josie’s car pulled up to the curb. Callan realized it must have been timed like that.

  “Hey there,” he greeted her, opening the car door for her and offering her his hand.

  She accepted it and climbed out of the car, stepping onto the sidewalk. “Hi.”

  “Ready for this?” he asked, feeling some nerves as the cameras pointed in his face.

  Josie didn’t even seem to notice the camera crew around her. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

  They headed into the restaurant together and were immediately seated. A waiter came and brought them drinks and appetizers that they hadn’t even ordered but apparently production had set up ahead of time. Everything was streamlined and simple, and he realized he didn’t have to think about a thing except Josie.

  “Is it always like this for you?” he asked.

  Josie tilted her head to the side. “Like what?”

  “Your life. On camera. Is it always so structured? So scripted?” He knew he wasn’t supposed to talk about filming because that was considered breaking the fourth wall, but they’d already exhausted all their talking points over appetizers, and he was tired of the aimless chit chat just for the cameras’ sake.

  “It’s the job.” A sadness crept over Josie’s expression, her brows knitted together as she seemed to think about his question. “It’s kind of sad…isn’t it?”

  He didn’t say anything. It didn’t seem like she really wanted a response. It was more like she was contemplating out loud.

  “I guess I’ve just gotten so used to it…the lack of privacy, the cameras, the mechanics of it all.” Josie picked up her wineglass and took a sip. “It’s been our life for years. Well, my brother’s life. We’re just all along for the ride.”

  “Tell me about your dreams,” he prompted. “What did you want before all of this happened?”

  “I’ve been trying to land a job in a kitchen for over a year now. I wanted to be a sous chef, but I’d take anything at this point,” she admitted. He knew she loved to cook, but he couldn’t say that without revealing they already knew one another, so he stayed quiet. “Everywhere I apply either doesn’t get back to me or flat out rejects me.”

  He scrunched his brows together. “Really? Do they say why?”

  She shook her head. “I usually can’t even get a call back. My guess is that they don’t want to be associated with the show…or with my brother. With everything that’s happened over the last two years with his partying…well, we’ve all taken the hit.”

  That didn’t seem fair.

  “I don’t know if this is helpful or not, but I’m friends with Michael Rockport,” Callan suggested with a small shrug.

  Her eyes seemed to bug out of her head. “The owner of this place? Niro’s? And like ten other restaurants around the country? The star of Rock the Kitchen on the Food Network?”

  Callan nodded. “He’s a big UFC fan. Arranged a meet-and-greet after one of my fights, and we just hit it off.”

  “No wonder you got us in here so easily.” She clucked her tongue. “I was wondering how production had managed to pull that off.”

  “It’s one of my favorite places when I come to Vegas,” Callan admitted. “Mike should step out and see us at some point. He knows I’m here.”

  She gripped the table, her knuckles turning white. “What? I will be meeting Michael Rockport?”

  Callan chuckled lightly, amused at the childlike innocence with which she spoke. “If you want, sure.”

  “Shut up!” She reached out and smacked him on the shoulder. “You could have led with that, you know?”

  Sure enough, ten minutes later, as they were scanning the dessert menu, a tall bald man with deep-blue eyes walked over to them. He was wearing a chef’s coat and didn’t look a day over thirty-five thanks to the magic of plastic surgery.

  “Walsh!” Michael greeted him with a big hug as Callan stood up to embrace his friend.

  “Good to see you, Mike,” he replied.

  “Tell me—are you a lock to win on Saturday?” Mike asked. “I have front-row tickets and a shit ton of cash bet on this fight. Should I double down?”

  “Triple down,” Callan kidded. “I’m going to kick Gray’s ass around that cage like a damn doll.”

  Josie coughed, clearly trying to get his attention.

  “Mike, this is actually Gray’s younger sister, Josie,” Callan said, introducing her to his friend.

  She eagerly shook the man’s hand. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rockport.”

  “The pleasure is all mine, though I have to admit, I’m not betting on your brother to win Saturday.” Michael laughed, and his stomach shook like a bowl of jelly with the movement.

  Josie didn’t seem to care one bit.

  They chatted for a little while longer until the waiter brought some dessert out and Michael had to excuse himself back to the kitchen.

  “That was amazing,” Josie said, taking his hand across the table. “Thank you for indulging my fan-girl side.”

  Callan shrugged like it was no big deal. “I’m going to run to the bathroom really quick. I’ll be right back.”

  She nodded and took a bite of the chocolate cake they’d ordered.

  He excused himself and headed in the direction of the bathrooms, but when he was out of view of Josie, he bee-lined straight for the kitchen instead.

  “Hey, Mike,” Callan called into the kitchen, waving over his friend. “Let me chat with you really quickly.”

  “What’s up?” The chef came over to greet him.

  “My girl over there, Josie. She’s an amazing chef. She can cook—”

  Michael shook his head. “Before you ask me to give her a job or something like that, I have to tell you something.”

  He paused. “What?”

  “She’s been blacklisted.” Michael crossed his arms over his chest. “I know who she is, and her brother has made it very clear to everyone in Las Vegas that if they hire her, they are going to face his wrath. No one on the strip is going to take that chance.”

  Callan blinked twice, trying to register what his friend was saying. “Are you serious?”

  Michael nodded. “I just can’t risk it, man. Best of luck.”

  They shook hands, and Michael headed back into the kitchen.

  He glanced back toward where Josie was sitting and tried to decide how to handle this. Did he tell her? Did he throw her brother under the bus like that? He wasn’t sure how she’d handle the news or whether or not he’d be the target of her wrath when she found out.

  Turned out, he didn’t need to worry about how her brother would react because when he rounded the corner to head back to their table, there was someone sitting in his seat.

  Xavier Gray.

  He was animatedly talking to Josie when Callan walked up. “We need to reshoot the scene from this morning about—”

  “Excuse me,” Callan interrupted. “I believe you’re in my spot.”

  Xavier’s gaze panned up, taking all of Callan in. He could see the thoughts ticking away in Xavier’s mind as he began to put two and two together. “Wait…what?”

  The cameras around them moved ever so slightly closer, and Callan wondered if they had known Xavier was coming. Had they set this up?

  “Uh, we were having dinner,” Josie spoke up, motioning to Callan. “That is actually Callan’s seat.”

  “Callan?” Xavier sounded incredulous. “You mean Cal Walsh? My opponent? Are you trying to leave me and be his assistant or something?”

  Josi
e shook her head. “No, we’re just friends grabbing dinner together.”

  Xavier stood and sized up Callan, getting a lot closer to him than was necessary. Callan was significantly taller than Xavier, so he towered over him, but that didn’t stop Xavier from sidling up to him anyway.

  “Is this a…a date?” Xavier asked, motioning between Josie and Callan. “Are you two out on a date right now?”

  Josie’s face darkened, blush creeping up her cheeks.

  “We are,” Callan confirmed, speaking for the both of them. “A date I’d like to get back to, if you don’t mind.”

  Xavier moved away from the table, but a vein in his neck was pulsing, and Callan could see the fury building in the tension in his body. “Josie, can I speak to you for a minute?” he said through clenched teeth.

  She shook her head. “We can talk tomorrow. I’m busy right now, Xav.”

  He squeezed his fists, his mouth set in a firm line. “Don’t bother coming to work tomorrow,” Xavier said. “You clearly don’t give a shit about my career. You’re fired.”

  With that, Xavier stormed away, and one of the camera crews followed after him.

  “Fired?” Callan asked her. “Are you okay?”

  She waved a hand like it was no big deal. “He fires me at least once a week. It’s just part of the tantrum he always throws.”

  Callan couldn’t imagine how hard that must be to work with and what a hostile environment she dealt with.

  “The annoying part is that any minute now, my mother is going to call me to yell at me for upsetting him.” She sighed. “He’s probably calling her right now.”

  Sure enough, her cell phone started buzzing where it sat on the table beside her.

  She silenced the call, sighing as she did so.

  Leaning in closer to the table, Callan dropped his voice to a whisper. “Do you want to get out of here?”

  Her eyes widened as she looked up at him and then glanced around at the cameras trained on them. “Just us?” she whispered in response.

  He nodded, pulled out his wallet, and put a few bills down on the table, and then he stood and offered her his hand.

 

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