The truth was, Connor was a good man. Beneath his prickly exterior, he was a bundle of emotions; passionate, aggressive.
And I couldn’t forget loving.
Connor could easily have invaded my privacy with his keycard. The fact that he didn’t warmed something inside of me. He was giving me a chance to cool off and come to him, while still maintaining his presence in my life.
A little of the deadness inside thawed, but not enough for me to crawl out of my cocoon and face him. I wasn’t ready for that. Not when the vision of Marta, and Alfonso, haunted me.
I lifted my head as a yelp of pain pierced the rice-thin walls. My heart leaped into my throat. The fight ended as quickly as it began with the introduction of more voices. Ones I faintly recognized, but I couldn’t place.
Get up, Crystal. This is your job.
My conscious poked at me, but I’d expended all my energy walking away from Connor a few hours before. He got himself into whatever mess was happening in the hotel hallway, he would have to get himself out.
And I would likely be out of a job.
What did I expect would happen when I returned to Chicago, though? Once news got out that I was dating Connor, I would be out of a job anyway. Let alone the fact that I failed to nab the one-hundred-million dollar contract I’d been sent out here to get. Which wasn’t my fault.
Those damn Zoreto assholes. Did their CEO know the harm they were doing to their company when it came down to endorsements? What athlete would want to work with such a shady corporation? Then again, money talks, and no one at JW had known this was the stuff they pulled.
My emotions and business sense warred inside me. Exhausting me until I passed out.
Waking up the next morning without Connor, when I’d spent the last weeks in his arms, set off the waterworks again. I cried myself into a stupor, before I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower.
After, I was faced with my own failure. I had nothing to wear but the shorts and t-shirt and no damn bra that I’d run away from Connor in. And there wasn’t a Wal-Mart on the island to fix the problem.
I needed to get my luggage from Connor. But first I needed to hope the hotel boutique would have something that didn’t make me look like a farm-ville hick. Even if, deep down, that’s exactly who I had been, and almost became again with Connor.
Twisting my hair into a vicious bun, I stomped out of my hotel room, and took the elevator down to the lobby; a woman on a mission.
“Ms. Lawson.” A sharp voice froze me in place, and I swung around.
The older woman I’d seen in the elevator yesterday was walking my way. Oh, Lord. How did she know my name? I prayed for the ground to open up and drag me in. She’d seen me in the arms of a man I wasn’t meant to be with, and now looking as if I was doing the walk of shame in a fancy hotel.
Her brow arched as she swept her gaze over my attire, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she looped her arm through mine and led me towards the more casual restaurant. “Come with me, we have to talk.”
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” This woman was a force of nature as she led us onto the terrace that overlooked the island. The shutters were half-closed, allowing just enough of the morning sunlight to pour in without disturbing the diners.
“No, but you will.” She settled into one of two seats, and I sat across from her, insanely curious to what she had to say, and how she knew who I was.
I flipped over my coffee cup, and within a minute one of the waiting staff arrived, filled our water glasses, and then faded away, giving us time to talk before our waiter arrived.
“My husband and I had an interesting conversation with Mr. McGrath last night on the fourth floor.”
I tried not to cringe. Was she who Connor had been fighting with, or were they the ones who’d interfered?
“Is your husband okay?” Lord, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer to that.
The woman laughed, flashing perfect teeth that made me wonder if they were natural or dentures. Then again, I couldn’t quite place her age. She could have been fifty or eighty. “Oh, he’s fine, but I am not sure about the other chap.”
I was so rattled by Connor, and now this woman, that I was missing the cues I’d spent years perfecting. I took a deep breath and assessed her.
She had that timelessness that living a very posh life created. Even though she was trying to look casual with her white capris and tank top, I knew fashion. And she was dressed head-to-toe in Dolce & Gabbana’s new summer collection. Shoot, that shirt alone could pay two months of my rent.
This was so bad, but I tried to put on my sunniest smile.
Trying to disguise my shaking hands, I shook out the cloth napkin and laid it over my lap. “Do you know who he was fighting with?”
“One of those Zoreto representatives. He has a shiner you can’t miss, and a busted lip.”
I closed my eyes letting her words sink in. Connor was ruined. There was no way we could come back from this.
“If you want my opinion, the guy deserved it. He was running his mouth about how Mr. McGrath was a wild animal. I have it all on film.”
I swallowed hard and looked at the woman. She was watching me like a hawk.
“Film?” I croaked.
“Yes, I videotaped it on my phone. My husband and I know people.”
My pulse beat frantically in my ears. “I didn’t get your name.”
“I didn’t give it to you yet.” The woman smiled, and whatever concept I’d have of age fell away. This woman was sharp as anyone still running a Fortune-500 company. “I’m Vivian Kasper.”
The name sounded familiar to me, but I couldn’t quite place. I sipped my water, giving myself some time to prowl through my mental contacts.
Kasper. Kasper who…
Oh no.
I choked, and coughed into my napkin while my mind ran a thousand miles a minute.
“I see you realize who I am, and by proxy, my husband.”
I swallowed audibly and nodded. “You own Fub.” Fub being the company Zoreto wished they were. The second largest shoe company in the world beneath Nike.
Oh Lord, what did Connor and I get ourselves into?
“Yes. My grandfather created Fub in 1949. My father made it the company it is now when he took over later. Though I’m semi-retired and my son is overseeing the day-to-day business, I still like to meddle.”
“Is that what you are doing here? Meddling with Connor and I?”
“You two have a long road ahead of you, and while I would love to play matchmaker, I do have two sons who need to be married off, I saw the two of you in the elevator. You will be fine.”
I bit my lip. A lot of things had happened between then and now, and I didn’t want to air Connor’s dirty laundry.
“Then what do you want with us?”
Vivian shook her head. Sunlight glinted off the pale dome of her silver-streaked brown hair. “You really don’t know?”
I sat back in my chair and blinked. She couldn’t really mean…
Her smile widened again, and she propped her elbows onto the table. “I want to offer a contract. Mr. McGrath is the perfect spokesman to launch our new line of apparel. Shoes. Accessories. It will make that Zoreto contract look like pocket change.”
I managed to grab a sundress and a bikini top in lieu of a bra from the lobby boutique after lunch. While not my best outfit, I was already having a mild heart attack over being bra-less in public. It would have to do until I managed to return to the hut.
Vivian’s offer chased itself around inside my head as I quickly changed, and typed up a report to JW and Jeff.
Should I let Connor’s agent drop him the good news? I was being a coward, not wanting to face him.
He has a son.
Was I ready to be a step-mother?
Lord, I was getting ahead of myself. We weren’t even ‘official’ in any capacity, we both could still chalk the last few days up as island fever, and I already had wedding bells in my he
ad.
Get a grip, Crystal.
I sighed and sagged onto the bed.
Connor and I were all wrong for each other. But, I loved him. Being without him had my heart throbbing as if mortally wounded.
He wasn’t mine though.
Tears swam behind my closed eyelids, and I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to staunch the new round of waterworks which were dying to let loose.
“One M-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-p-p-i,” I whispered, though this time my mental counting had nothing to do with anger, and everything to do with staving off the heartbreak engulfing me.
Giving myself one mental, and physical, shake, I stood up and swiped my keycard off the table.
Then, I called for a Taxi.
The cab let me out a couple doors down from the hut. I needed the few feet to steel my nerve just in case I ran into Connor.
Who was I kidding? I was hoping to run into Connor.
I should have opened the door last night.
Digging my toes into my flip flops, I took a deep breath, and marched towards the hut I’d shared with Connor. When I reached the stoop, I hesitated.
Should I knock?
Lord, I felt like a voyeur as I stepped off the hard-packed earth which made up the front porch, and glanced in through the window beside the door.
It was empty.
Disappointment lurched in my gut, but I ignored it. Instead, I walked inside.
Immediately the memories I’d made with Connor over the past few weeks flew through my mind. Our first kiss. The first time he’d made me come.
And last, but not least, his devoted whispers of love in my garden.
Pain cut through me, bleeding out the tears I’d been trying to avoid for most of the day. I stood, weeping my heart out, in the middle of a damn lean-to on a stupid tropical island.
“I didn’t expect you back so soon.” The accented words cut me like a knife, immediately drying up my pain.
I turned my head and met Marta’s smirking stare. “I’m only here to get my things.”
Marta flashed me a wide smile. “I’m so glad. I need room for mine.”
Lord, I wanted to punch her teeth in. The urge reared up in a violent tangle of anger and sadness.
Were they already back together again?
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Did you run all the way through the village when you saw the taxi? Really, have some class. The sheets aren’t even cool yet.”
Outrage suffused Marta’s cheeks in a bronze glow.
I arched my brow, daring her to say something to me. I might have run away with my proverbial tail tucked between my legs when she first showed up, but I was ready to duke it out for the man I loved.
“That’s what I thought,” I said into her shocked silence. I turned my back on her and went in search of my suitcase.
When I returned I popped it open on the bed. Marta stood watching me as I pulled my outfits from the small shared closet.
“You can’t keep him.”
I shook my head at the quiver in her voice.
“Why did you choose now to mess with Connor? You should have known what a big deal this fight is for him.”
I shot her a look over my shoulder as I hunched over my half-filled case. Guilt surfed the dark bronze planes of her face.
I narrowed my eyes.
Something didn’t sit right with me about the whole way this went down.
Stuffing my flip flops into my luggage, I slipped on a pair of flats, watching her the whole time.
She shook her hair over her shoulder. “It doesn’t matter why I chose now. I did. He needed to know about his son.”
I hated how Marta was using Alfonso as a weapon. How was Connor going to be able to fight through this mire of drama swirling around him?
And I still needed to talk to him about Fub.
Frustration nipped at me as I hauled my suitcase off the bed, and approached Marta with slow steps. I wasn’t much taller than the other woman, but I squared my shoulders and made my presence intimidating. As if I was dealing with a chauvinist pig who thought a woman should be seen and not heard.
I held her eye. “I don’t believe a fucking thing coming out of your mouth, Marta. Connor deserves someone more than you playing him. I will find out what you are up to, and you will regret messing with him--and me--for whatever scheme you cooked up.”
Marta’s throat tightened as she blinked up at me, but she wisely held her tongue as I dragged one of my suitcases out of the hut and back to the hotel.
For now, I needed to push back how I felt about Connor, and work on securing his legacy.
19 - Connor
On the morning of the biggest fight of my life, I woke up with an achy body, a fist that still hurt like hell and a hollow heart.
Since the fight in the hallway, I’ve been staying away from Crystal. Sometimes, while I was training, or watching the other fighters, I would catch a flash of blonde hair, or swear I heard her voice calling to me. Except when I would turn to find her, Crystal wouldn’t be there.
Still, I knew she was working in the background for my career. While we hadn’t met up face-to-face, she’d sent me an e-mail detailing a contract with Fub. I wanted to pinch myself, and celebrate with her, but I didn’t reach out to her, and after awhile, she’d stopped trying to get me to come to the Lujo.
I knew the reason for it. The reason slept soundly in my bed with her son, while I camped out in my hammock.
Our son. Fuck. I needed to get that through my mind to my core, but somehow it still hadn’t set in that I had a kid.
I’d installed a hammock inside the cabana and had been sleeping in it since Marta had moved into the place like it was her right. I had no interest in Marta romantically in the slightest, and I needed to make that clear as day to her. I was still having a hard time processing that she had hid the fact that we’d had a kid for so many years, but even more so, I’d lost all interest in anyone else besides the woman who had become my obsession. Now, she was the obsession I would never get to have.
I quietly threw on my training shorts and gym shoes and hit the dusty trail. As my feet beat down on the dirt and my breathing increased, my thoughts weren’t on the fight with Toro tonight. And this was not good, considering the visualization strategies I’d learned from Julio were what I considered to be the key to my victory. For all the cocky swagger I displayed for the world to see--my ridiculous antics and my intimidation tactics, they were nothing more than a smokescreen. I was much more calculated in my training than everyone thought. More than any other training component, I always had a sharp mental edge over my opponents.
And today, I was the most distracted I’d ever been before any fight, let alone the biggest fight of my career.
No matter what I tried to think about, my mind wandered to the girl who was soon going to be just another one I used to know if I didn’t act fast.
The last few days had been a trainwreck emotionally for me. I guess I didn’t realize how much my emotional well-being impacted my physical training until it was gone.
“It” being Crystal.
I’d never been a man to rely on a woman for validation, but I couldn’t deny she’d filled me up in a way I’d never experienced before with any woman. I still couldn’t put my finger on what it was exactly. That damn southern charm of hers? How she caved totally to me when we fucked?
We’d talked about how I’d corrupted her; how her pussy was ruined by me.
But thinking about it now, even I had to admit it seemed the other way around. I was fucking ruined for other girls after having tasted Crystal. Fucked. I couldn’t go to anyone else and love them as much as I loved her.
I usually felt the adrenaline rush before a fight. But the sun was barely up and I was already feeling so anxious I was nauseous.
I cut my run short, and still wearing just my training shorts and no shirt, I jumped on my motorcycle and headed to the one person who might be able to get me out of this psychological mess.
“You’re just in time,” I heard Julio’s voice from inside his hut, just as I was seconds from knocking on the door. “Come in.”
I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Julio was in his kitchen with his back toward me. “Good to see...er...good to be with you again, Julio,” I said.
He turned toward me, a tea kettle in one hand and a gourd with one of those metal straws in the other. He shuffled toward me until he was an arm’s length, and stopped. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever felt you this stressed before. Have a seat, Connor.”
“How do you know I’m…”
“I can smell it. Hear it. Your mana is more off than the first time you came to me. Have a seat.”
Asking Julio how he already knew was futile. He was like a sniffing drug dog, except he could sense a man’s aura. I had no idea how he did it.
As I sat down in a seat next to him, I smiled briefly at a passing thought: Crystal would have been blown away at Julio’s ability to sense my mana. Except she wasn’t here. She was locked up in her hotel room where she refused to open the door for me.
“She’s not here, Connor,” Julio said as he poured the first pull of tea into the gourd. He sucked the liquid into his mouth and then spit it out. “The first pull is always too strong,” he informed me.
“I know how to drink maté,” I reminded him.
“I’ve put a few calming remedies into this one, for you. The fight is tonight. How do you feel, aside from the anxiety?”
I took a deep breath as he handed me the tea to take a sip. “I’ve gotta level with you, Julio. I feel like absolute shit.” I sucked down the bitter tea and handed it back to him. The warm liquid felt good coating my esophagus. I realized I hadn’t even taken a drink of anything this morning. All of my good training habits had went out the window this week, my mind was such a wreck. “Everything has exploded this week. I don’t know how it all happened. I was on such a high before everything went to shit on Monday.”
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