by Nana Prah
Lamar started to speak, but then closed his mouth and sighed. Her attention went to the scruff on his chin when he rubbed it with his knuckles. “Have you ever been in a situation where you had to do something because it needed to get done?”
She nodded.
His eyes didn’t waver. “Every once in a while, I take on clients that I normally wouldn’t. It makes me a well-rounded personal trainer. I spent over ten years fighting. I became a certified personal trainer about five years ago because I knew my career would eventually end. I wanted to help all sorts of people get into shape, not just MMA fighters who needed coaching. Does that make sense?”
It did. “Why me?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes things happen the way they’re supposed to. It’s not necessary to question everything.”
She squinted to study him more intently. He wasn’t telling her the complete truth, nor was he lying. “I’d prefer someone else to be my personal trainer.”
His head ticked to the right. “Why?”
The word intimidated came to mind. Not just by his massive presence, and confident structure, but now that she knew he was the greatest at what he’d trained to do, she felt like a nobody in comparison.
Was she worthy of working with someone who had challenged himself on a daily basis to kick ass when she couldn’t stick up for herself at work?
If she told him that she didn’t feel as if she deserved his time, would he look at her with pity? She couldn’t endure that.
Lamar leaned toward her, bringing his enticing pheromones with him when she didn’t answer. “How about we give it a trial run? If you aren’t pleased with my work after three weeks, then we’ll call it quits and I’ll get you my second-best trainer.”
“Why not your best?”
His lips curled into a smile that made her heart thump. “Because you already have him.”
“Cute,” she said in a dry tone as she fought not to appear amused. If only she could be as self-assured as him, her life would change for the better.
Besides, when else would she get such a phenomenal opportunity? Her mind spun at how much she could learn from him. Discipline for sure and perhaps some of his confidence would rub off on her.
He remained quiet, allowing her to process the information.
“Fine. I’ll give you a trial run, but we’ll make it two weeks rather than three.”
He smiled, exposing a set of intact teeth. “Deal. But I can guarantee that you’ll want to stay with me, and I’m sure that by the time our six weeks together has ended you’ll be wanting to extend the contract for the rest of your life.”
“Huh. We’ll see about that.” Gia hesitated a minute. “Can we add self-defense training?”
His brow jerked up for a split second, before his neutral state returned. “Is there a reason?”
She lowered her gaze and spoke to her lap so he couldn’t witness her shame and weakness. “I’d just like to be able to defend myself. You know. It’s a rough world we live in these days.”
“I see. Adding in some self-defense training won’t be a problem.”
“Thanks.”
She wouldn’t look too deeply into the enigma of Lamar Pearce. Her newfound goal was to make herself open to his instructions and hopefully become a healthier more self-assured person by the time they had to part ways.
Chapter 5
Lamar flexed his neck toward his shoulder until it cracked, relieving him of the tightness that an hour and a half of intensive training had built up.
His head MMA coach of the past seven years regarded him. “You either train one hundred percent or not at all. You still haven’t brought yourself up to standard. I’ll admit that your defense is strong, but you’ve lost that killer instinct it takes to win.”
He held back a cringe of recognition at Adrian’s insightfulness. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but fear had become his constant companion when he trained these days. It held him back when he’d never restricted himself from being the best before. Getting knocked out again wasn’t an issue. Not being the best was. That’s why he was working his ass off and would continue to do so until he was back on top.
Lamar swung his gaze to the man who’d gotten him to and through being a UFC champion. “What do I need to do?”
Adrian scraped a hand over the short spikes of his gray hair. “Quit. It’s not worth the risk.”
“Not an option.”
Determined steel gray eyes held steady. “So you’d rather be a vegetable if you sustain another hit to the head like the one that took you out during your last fight?”
The blow from an elbow had snatched away his belt and his whole identity. Who was he if he wasn’t an MMA fighter? “It’s all I know how to excel at.” Nothing mattered except the fight. It’s what he’d spent countless hours training for over the years. It defined him. If he didn’t have MMA he had nothing.
“That’s bullshit and you know it. There’s life after the cage.”
“Not when I never got the chance to compete again because someone told me that I might sustain brain damage.” He gritted his teeth. “There’s no guarantee it’ll happen. Especially if I can avoid a direct hit to that exact same part of my head.”
The older former heavyweight UFC titleholder crossed his arms over his burly chest. “As I recall, you got three second opinions who told you to retire. You know that things in the cage can get crazy in the blink of an eye. Usually you’re the one bringing the controlled chaos to your opponent. God help you if it’s the other way around like in your last match. All it would take is that precise contact and…”
The heaviness of Adrian’s sigh said it all. “I’d rather see you thinking for yourself than be feeble-minded. Too many fighters live a life of being continually punch drunk and out of it rather than letting go of something they should’ve given up long before that point.” The man ducked his head before looking Lamar in the eyes again. “You’ll find your way if you stay retired. I did.”
Done with this discussion, Lamar snatched the towel off his shoulder. He paid Adrian and the crew an obscene amount to get him fit for his fight in a little less than four months. His coach was the best he’d ever worked with, but if he kept up the sermons, he’d be forced to find someone else.
Backing out of the tournament would never happen. If the UFC was willing to let him fight, then nothing else would get in his way. It was his choice and the consequences were on him. For the first time in months, he was in full control over his future, and that brought him a greater sense of peace than staying out of the cage. It wasn’t in him to back down when he could fight. He had the capacity to reach for and grasp his full potential so he would.
“I know what I’m doing,” Lamar said with resolved determination. “Either you work with me or you don’t, but don’t think your little speeches will change my mind. You know me well enough to understand that they won’t.”
Adrian clapped a heavy hand against Lamar’s shoulder. “I have to try. Of course, I’ll train you. You don’t have a fuck’s chance if I don’t.”
The tension eased and Lamar chuckled. The man spoke the truth, and he was glad to have him in his corner. “Thanks. I’ve got to get to work. See you on Wednesday.”
Adrian’s gray eyes twinkled. “Or we could train at a more civilized hour than four in the morning.”
“I have to keep this on the low until it’s announced next month. I don’t need the hassle from my people. Especially my mother.”
Adrian pretended to shiver. “She’s a tough one.”
“Had to be to raise me.”
“True.”
Lamar rushed through a shower and took off. Training before the sun had an inkling to rise wasn’t his favorite, but his desperation to get back into the UFC and prove himself once again a champion left him with no choice.
The day’s schedule flipped through his mind on the drive to the gym. He groaned when he recalled that he’d be training with Gia.
She wasn’t a bad pe
rson. He just hated that he’d been forced to work with her. She possessed an astute mind and strong intuition. Her sister may think she lacked confidence, but Lamar didn’t get that impression.
She’d yanked him off balance when confronting him with a question during their initial interview that he hadn’t been prepared for. Her disbelief of his answer when he’d given her the partial truth had stumped him. With all of the ass-kissing that strangers tended to do around him, they rarely questioned his motives. They were just happy to be near his prestige.
He’d have to become clear on a better reason why he’d decided to work with her. Telling her that she was the key to changing his public image wouldn’t do. The personal injury lawsuit from one of his clients had tarnished not only his reputation, but that of his gym.
Nobody had asked his idiot client to try to test him during one of their training sessions. It galled that he hadn’t caught on that something was up when the guy had insisted on having his girlfriend record his workout. When the attack came, Lamar had gone into the type of defense mode that over a decade of drills had reared.
The only thing he’d injured on the fool was his pride. Lucky chump. If he’d thrown a punch rather than shoving his client away, the guy might not have gotten up off the floor.
The video they’d planted on social media had been edited to show Lamar as the attacker. The lawsuit they’d based on the false evidence was knocked out of commission when the gym’s CCTV cameras provided the unaltered truth of what had happened.
The damage to the gym’s image had been done and now they were attempting to rebuild their clientele so that they didn’t lose the franchise and the community project they were working so hard to create.
As timid as Gia had seemed when they’d first met, he’d been pleased when she’d allowed him to take her physical stats. Whatever odd attraction he’d felt for her when they’d initially met had melted away as professionalism stood its ground. Touching her after that first handshake had been like with any of his other clients. Detached and respectful.
Good. He didn’t need any complications. Not now while he was training for his re-entry into the UFC. His schedule needed to run like clockwork. Something told him that having Gia as a client would somehow thwart the normalcy he’d struggled the past couple of months to develop.
Hands trembling and stomach tied in knots, Gia pressed the up button of the elevator. The vegetable omelet with one slice of whole grain toast she’d eaten that morning rather than popping frozen waffles in the toaster and drowning them in butter and syrup with bacon on the side, threatened to purge its way out of her. She’d spent the weekend cleaning the junk food from her cabinets by eating everything. One last hurrah before getting in shape.
She swallowed down the acid burning her throat and inhaled deep breaths to calm herself. Maybe her boss wasn’t in the office. Hell, maybe everyone she worked with had developed measles and she’d be all alone. Able to do the work she loved without jumping out of her skin when someone called her.
The elevator doors opened and she stood immobile while staring at the hallway that would lead her to the space she both loved and hated being.
The metal panels slid closed with her still inside. The box didn’t move. Pressing the open button would let her out and allow her to start the workday. She scuffled in the opposite direction until her back hit the mirrored wall. Chest tight, her breaths became shallow and rapid.
What made today worse than any other day?
Lamar’s gorgeous face and massive shoulders came to mind. Engaging with him had reminded her that she’d once been strong and assertive. The walk he’d had her do on the treadmill had been exhausting and she’d only lasted for ten minutes before she’d begged to stop.
He’d grinned and high-fived her as if she’d completed the Boston marathon.
What had he said? “The things you want to do, you will do.”
The words had resonated deep within her. Calling them up now, she thrust her shoulders back. Fuck it. The project she was working on was challenging and ideas for improving the design had come to her during the weekend. That would hold her concentration for the day.
Just as she reached out to press the button to open the panels, the elevator descended.
When the doors opened her supervisor stood alone at the entry. His smirk sent her stomach plummeting as she slunk into the corner. Shoulders hunched forward, she tucked her chin into her chest letting her braids hide her face as she prayed the impossible.
Please let him be a better person.
Vincent Harrison got on and pressed the button for the ninth floor.
“Why didn’t you attend the meeting on Friday?”
She raised her head and blinked. “Meeting?”
“I sent a memo out on Thursday. Everyone else showed up. This is the fourth time. I’m going to have to write you up. Again.”
She clenched her jaw. Opening her big mouth had thrown her onto his evil side in the first place and now she had to live with it until it blew over. She hadn’t received a memo on Thursday, but was sure that there would be one in her inbox now. Backdated as an IT genius had probably once taught him how to do. The first couple of times it had happened she’d questioned it only to be proven wrong by the system.
He had a habit of holding meetings during the time that he’d assigned her to go to lunch. For fear of his retribution, her colleagues lacked the courage to inform her. Or maybe they weren’t aware. Whichever way it went, she got written up for something she never knew about.
“I honestly don’t understand why they moved you to my department.” He clicked his tongue. “Not with your attitude against being a team player. I hope you’ve learned your lesson and start reading your e-mails regularly so you don’t miss another one.”
The elevator dinged and the doors opened. She took a full breath once he left, following at a much slower pace.
Mechanical engineer of the year five years running or not, the man was an asshole. Sure, he made the company a lot of money with his spectacular home appliance designs, but he had no kindness for those who crossed him. She’d learned it the hard way when on her second week of having been promoted to his department, she’d told him that the way he was treating one of her colleagues wasn’t professional. The conversation had been held privately in his office with no one to hear. What she’d thought had been a good deed had turned into a nightmare. Six months later she was still living in it.
Her coworkers seemed to understand the rules a whole lot better than she had because no one defended her. Not when they’d witnessed his manipulations and overt abuse. They barely spoke to her for fear of becoming an outcast.
Why did she stay?
A question she asked herself daily. Initially she’d thought he’d back off. When he hadn’t, she’d gone to HR. The head of that department ended up being one of his best friends, so her complaint got investigated in name, then tossed, leaving Harrison even more bitter than he’d been initially.
She’d been with the company for eight years, had been promoted twice and could see herself in a managerial position one day. She loved everything about her job, except her boss. When she’d requested to transfer to a different department, he’d charmed the powers that be into keeping her under him. Trapped.
If she were to get another position, it would be at a different company, and she wasn’t ready to give up the near decade investment that she’d made. All she had to do was endure for a little longer, because nothing lasted forever.
Chapter 6
After the encounter with her boss in the elevator that morning, all Gia wanted to do was go home, whip up a rich buttery pound cake and then shovel the whole thing into her face until she felt nothing but stuffed. Baking always soothed her. Eating her goods took it one step further.
Since she had promised Lamar a trial period of two weeks, integrity wouldn’t allow her to not show up, no matter how much butter, eggs, flour, vanilla and sugar called to her to mix up into a decadent co
ncoction. The three king sized Snickers bars she’d eaten before arriving at the gym would tide her over. No one really expected her to give up her comfort food. Not after the wretched day she’d had.
Pulling an oversized navy-blue t-shirt over a pair of black leggings, Gia closed the metal locker. The workout wouldn’t last forever. At least she’d get to look at something gorgeous as she became funky with sweat. Great.
The short walk to the lobby brought her face to face with Lamar. Such a fine dark chocolate-skinned man. She ran a thumb along the corner of her lips to make sure she wasn’t drooling.
That grin directed at her made her knees wobble. She hoped he was a stern trainer who didn’t smile much, otherwise she might be falling off of machines.
Customary greetings over and done, Lamar led her to the massive cardio hall. There had to be at least a hundred machines.
Gia tugged at her shirt when she noticed the women working out while wearing circulation-cutting leggings. As if he had announced his presence, the females stared at him like he was a winning million-dollar lottery ticket. She didn’t blame them.
Those on the treadmill had better be careful that they didn’t smack themselves with their own breasts with all that unnecessary bouncing.
Lamar even took it in stride when a couple of the men got googly-eyed and flustered when he passed.
His barely-there-grin and nod of recognition landed on a female who’d called to him after sticking out her perfect ass while climbing the stair machine. Were they seeing each other? Was he sleeping with any of these women? Or men?
That’s not my business. The chastisement didn’t keep her from glowering at the women as they continued to stare. For the next hour and a half he was hers, so they’d better back off.
Startled by the intensity of her reaction, Gia flipped the top of her water bottle and took a sip. Bleh.
“The plan is to start with a warm up, stretch, work on your upper body, and then come back here for a cardio workout before doing some self-defense. We’ll end with stretches. How does that sound?”