Sweet Victory (Fighting for Love)

by Gina L. Maxwell

  He opened the door and pulled up short at seeing two things he didn’t expect: an opened pink box from Sophie’s Sweet Spot on his desk…and Tami leaned back in his chair, licking a dollop of frosting from the top of a cupcake with an exaggerated sweep of her tongue. His shoulders slumped at the delay that thwarting her advances would cause him. Frankly, he was surprised she was back at it. Since announcing his marriage to her, she’d backed off and kept to seducing the fighters who were all too happy to be the focus of her attentions.

  “What are you doing in here?” he asked on a sigh. When he told Dorsette to lock up, he assumed the man knew that all the members should be out of the building first.

  She gave him an Oscar-worthy temptress smile that didn’t make his cock so much as twitch. “Waiting for you and enjoying one of your gluten-free cupcakes. They’re surprisingly good.”

  Pride for Sophie’s talents swelled in his chest. “I don’t know who brought them, but feel free to take them home with you. Come on, it’s time to go,” he said, grabbing his keys and looking for the papers he needed. He swore they’d been right there earlier.

  “Your ex-wife brought them over, but don’t worry, I made sure she didn’t stick around to bother you. I know how much you hate interruptions when you’re training.”

  Xander froze, his stomach plummeting as several details dropped into the puzzle. The cupcake box. The missing papers. Tami’s reference to Sophie as his— Oh, fucking hell, no. “Tami,” he said, his teeth grinding together as he strained for control. “What do you mean my ex-wife was here. Sophie isn’t my ex anything.”

  “Well, not yet she isn’t, but she took the papers with her.”

  And that’s when he lost it. If Sophie saw the divorce papers, then she thought Xander planned on leaving her. Just like every other man she’d been with. Just like she’d expected him to do. “Please tell me you didn’t give Sophie the papers that were on my desk. Ones that you had no fucking business even looking at, much less doing anything with them, I’ll add.”

  “I didn’t,” she said, pouting. “Not exactly, anyway. I came in here for some tape and saw them. I was looking at them when she came in. I assumed she knew, okay? How was I supposed to know you hadn’t broken the news to her yet? But it’s okay because now you don’t have to. Don’t you see, I helped you dodge a bullet. You’re going to be free and clear and you didn’t even have to break a sweat.”

  “How long ago was she here?” Maybe she’d left not too long ago and he could catch up with her before she let her jaded heart run with the wrong conclusion.

  “I don’t know, around three, I guess?”

  “Three o’clock?” he repeated in disbelief. With his fight right around the corner, he was sometimes pulling ten-hour days or longer. He checked his watch and confirmed it was well after nine. “Fuck!” Xander plowed his hands into his wet hair and yanked until he saw stars behind his lids.

  “Xan—”

  He dropped his arms and glared at her. “Get out, and don’t come back. You’re officially banned from TLP2. I don’t want to see you around my gym or my fighters ever again.”

  She looked as though she might argue, but then scoffed at him as she flipped her hair and dropped the half-licked cupcake back into the box. As soon as he heard the front door close behind her, Xander took out his phone and called Sophie but it went to voicemail after the first ring. Though he knew the outcome wouldn’t change, he did it half a dozen more times as he ran all the way home. He didn’t bother waiting for the lift in his building, instead he burst into the stairwell and bounded up the steps two and three at a time until he reached his door in record time.

  “Sophie,” he called out as he dropped everything to the floor and searched for her. “Soph, baby, are you here?”

  The main area was empty, but his bedroom was literally deserted. Panic invaded his lungs, making it hard to breathe as he searched the flat. All her stuff was gone. The bathroom counter was devoid of her clutter, the walk-in closet empty, her precious shoes…gone. It was all gone.

  She was gone.

  Xander walked back into the bedroom and that’s when he noticed the manila envelope on the dresser. With shaky hands, he pulled the small stack of papers out and flipped to the back pages. His breath shuddered from him in a rush. There, in her neatly slanted scrawl, was Sophie’s signature.

  Cursing, he dropped it to the dresser and noticed a piece of stationery folded in half that must have slid out with the file. Opening it, his eyes scanned over the short, handwritten note:

  Xander,

  This marriage wasn’t meant to last more than a few days, much less six months. Please do me one last favor and wait until after the first of the month to file these. I can’t thank you enough for helping me save what I love most in this world. Good luck with your fight. I hope it brings you everything you’ve ever wanted.

  Soph

  He sat on the edge of the bed, braced his arms on his knees, and dropped his head into his hands. In a few short hours, his life had gone from perfect to disaster. He never should have kept those divorce papers to himself.

  Taking his phone out again, he scrolled through his contacts. He didn’t have Kristin’s or Billy’s numbers, but they must’ve helped her get her things out earlier. She was probably with them. Either way, she’d be at the bakery; if not tomorrow, then the next day. Sophie hadn’t taken more than a day off at a time since taking over for her grandmother so it’s not like she’d be on bloody vacation. He’d talk to her, and everything would be okay. He was sure of it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  7 days left

  Sophie had actually taken time off—he couldn’t fucking believe it. Not only that, she’d been gone almost a whole week. A week that had been one of the worst of his life.

  If he believed in superstitious things like lucky charms, he’d have a fair argument for Sophie being his. In the week since she’d left him, things had gone from shite to worse. He’d strained a ligament in his leg during a grappling session with Reid and had to get cortisone shots to help deal with the pain. The only reason he managed to sleep at all was utter exhaustion from his training, but it was fitful at best, what with the multitude of bad dreams he had about Sophie leaving him. Cutting weight was always a special kind of hell—minimum calories and water combined with hours of straight cardio and sauna time while wearing special suits and layers for optimal sweating—and he was only four days into that process. And the insult to injury was a call from his manager last night that his largest sponsor was dropping all their fighters because of a bad publicity stunt pulled by one of the young punks in the sport.

  If he didn’t replace that sponsor he’d have to back out, which would not only ruin his reputation, but there was no telling how long it would be before he got another shot at a UFC fight.

  So yeah. Xander was mentally strung out and worried. Worried about his career, worried about his health, and most importantly, worried about Sophie—or more accurately, what she was thinking. He’d give anything to be able to just talk to her for five fucking minutes so he could tell her how he felt about her. But she’d taken that option away from him. He had no idea where she was, and she’d either turned off her phone or blocked his number.

  Every day, he’d gone into the Sweet Spot to see if she’d come back.

  Every day, he’d left disappointed.

  He’d even gone to visit Marjorie on Sunday, thinking she might show up for her weekly visit with her grandmother. No such luck. Now, after six days of not seeing or talking to her, he was at his limit. The first morning, Kristin had only told him that she was taking some time off and didn’t tell her where she’d gone or when she planned on returning. Every subsequent morning, he’d merely gone as far as opening the front door. Kristin would look up at the tinkling of the bell, purse her lips, and shake her head, telling him that Sophie wasn’t back and she wouldn’t be taking the time to speak to him about it.

  But he wasn’t being put off any longer. He had
to leave for California for the media junkets and trainings leading up to Saturday’s fight. The moment he’d been working so hard to get to for the last several years, and all he could think about was talking to Sophie.

  The bell above the glass door announced his arrival as he entered at just past six in the morning. Smells of vanilla and sugar wrapped around him. It was like being comforted by Sophie, even as it suffocated him in sadness. Rachel, the new girl, was behind the counter, stocking the front cases with freshly decorated cake truffles and cupcakes. Her smile was hesitant and unsure. Xander had gotten along nicely with her before, but her loyalty to Sophie—as her employee, friend, and fellow female—had made her awkward whenever she saw him now.

  “Hi, Rachel,” he said as he approached her at the counter. “I don’t suppose—”

  “No, Xander, she’s not here.”

  Xan turned to where the clipped voice had come from. Kristin stood at the entrance to the kitchen, her arms crossed over her chest and a look of irritation on her face. Abandoning Rachel, he strode over to where the blonde was passing silent judgment on him for something she knew nothing about. She’d never asked him what happened between him and Sophie, and he’d never offered. He’d wanted to discuss things with Soph, not make his case to her best friend like some sort of go-between. But everything from the last week had taken its toll, and he was ready to snap.

  “Tell me where she is, Kristin. I need to talk to her.”

  “I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

  “You expect me to believe that as her best friend and the acting manager of her shop, she didn’t tell you where she was going or when she’d be back?”

  Kristin shrugged. “I have a horrible habit of meddling and matchmaking. She figured if she told me I might take it upon myself to share that information with a certain fighter she’d rather not speak to right now.”

  Xan plowed his fingers into his hair and pulled before dropping his arms in defeat. He didn’t have time for a pissing match with Sophie’s friend. He had to go home and tell his manager what he wanted to do about the fight.

  “Fine, but if you hear from her, tell her that I need to speak with her.” When Kristin didn’t seem moved, he took a deep breath and tried again. “Please, Kristin. Whatever she thinks, she’s wrong. I don’t want to lose her.”

  The woman’s blue eyes softened and she uncrossed her arms as she nodded. “Okay, Xander, I’ll tell her.”

  Nodding his thanks, he left the bakery and crossed the street to his building, no more hopeful now than when he’d left fifteen minutes ago. As he entered his flat, his cell rang from the pocket of his track pants. Bollocks. His manager was going to ask him what the bloody hell he wanted to do about the fight, and he didn’t have an answer for him.

  Logic told him to swallow his damned pride and call Jax. His friend would give him the sponsorship he needed in a heartbeat. But Xander couldn’t shake the churning in the pit of his gut every time he thought about it. It made him feel like a kid having to ask his dad to bail him out because he couldn’t hack it in the real world on his own.

  Maybe he should just quit his dream of going pro, of fighting in the UFC again, altogether. He could stick to running TLP2, training new fighters, and fighting in the semi-pro circuit a couple times a year. It wasn’t a horrible idea. He loved working with the younger men and women who were new to the sport; loved their hunger, their grit and tenacity, and he loved seeing the look on their faces when they finally executed a new move perfectly.

  It was his younger self who couldn’t let go of the dream he’d had for half his life. But now that he might have lost Sophie, that dream paled in comparison to his desire to be with her and start a life together. Hell, everything paled in comparison to that.

  Dropping onto his couch, he answered the phone on autopilot. “James here.”

  “Mr. James, I realize I’m probably the last person you want to speak with right now.”

  Flames of rage licked up his spine. “You’d be right about that, Caldwell.” Xander didn’t bother to hide the threat in his tone. “What the bloody hell do you want now?”

  “I’m going to be frank,” he said, all business as usual. “I heard what happened between you and Sophie. I also know about your largest sponsor pulling out on you at the last minute.”

  “You’re a sneaky little fucker. How many spies do you have working for you?”

  “Not as many as you might think, James. At any rate, I’d been trying to get in contact with Sophie to discuss certain urgent matters. When I couldn’t reach her, I went to the bakery, which is when I found out about her extended vacation from the new girl.”

  “Urgent matters.” Xander scoffed. “By that, you mean your development deal that’s about to go under because we’ve proved you wrong and stayed together, is that right?”

  “Whether you’ve stayed together remains to be seen. Honestly, I don’t care whether you and Sophie break up now or get married for real and have a dozen babies. It’s no secret that I’m not close with my niece, but the one person in this world I do care about is my mother, and she’s about to be homeless unless this deal goes through.”

  Xan froze. “What do you mean, she’s going to be homeless?” A long sigh traveled through the phone’s speaker, followed by an even longer pause. “Caldwell, tell me what the fuck you’re going on about.”

  “I made some…poor business choices,” he began, “and suffice it to say, without this deal, my business goes under and I’ll have to file for bankruptcy. If that happens, I’ll no longer be able to pay for my mother to stay at Golden Ages. Her needs are such that she needs round the clock care. Even average nursing homes are expensive, and Golden Ages is one of the best in the state. Her social security and the benefits she receives from my father don’t go very far, I’m afraid.”

  Xander’s fingers curled tightly into his palms, his body automatically preparing for the fight his mind was ready to wage. “Let me get this straight. If I file for divorce, the judge’s stipulation isn’t met, and the trust remains in your name. You make the deal and sell the property, thereby saving your company and your ass, and Marjorie gets to continue living comfortably in Golden Ages. That about sum things up?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this. When I saw how determined you and Sophie were, I tried working on other contracts to rectify the situation, but they fell through when they caught wind of my company’s unfavorable financial situation. If you dissolve the marriage and let me close this deal, everyone will be better for it: my company is saved, my mother continues to live out her years in safe comfort, Sophie will lose the house where my mother started everything, but she’ll get a new and even better location with more money than she can spend, and you, Mr. James, will get your sponsorship from Warrior Weights. I’ve already spoken to their representative.”

  Xander dragged a hand down his face and released a heavy breath. Warrior Weights was the largest distributor of weight lifting equipment in North America and sponsored some of the top fighters in the UFC. “And all I have to do is sign on the dotted line?”

  “That’s all you have to do. Come down to my office, sign the papers, and leave them with me so I can be sure they get filed and the judge is made aware of the situation. Sophie will be disappointed at losing the original bakery, but we both know that when it comes down to it, my mother is her main concern. She’d sell the business outright if it meant keeping her at Golden Ages.”

  As much as Xan hated to admit it, the man made a fair point. But he wasn’t about to tell him that. Instead he gave a curt, “I’ll be in touch,” and ended the call.

  Leaning forward, he braced his arms on his knees and stared at the manila envelope on the glass coffee table in front of him. The contents had been fucking taunting him for a week. He’d wanted to shred them at least a hundred times since he found them, but for whatever reason, he just kept tossing them back onto the table where he could see them from anywhere in the main living ar
ea. Like he had to keep an eye on them or they’d take him out from behind.

  If insanity was doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results, he said farewell to his sanity as he hit the button for Sophie’s number one last time. And just like all the other times, it went to voicemail after a single ring. Again, he hung up. Nothing he needed to tell her was appropriate for a recording, and since she wasn’t giving him the option of asking her what she wanted him to do, he’d have to make the best decision he could…and hope she didn’t hate him for it later.

  Snatching up the vile envelope, Xander left his flat again—this time to head over to Richard Caldwell’s high-rise office. Today, he was going to do the one thing he’d been telling himself for months he’d never do.

  It was going to suck.

  Chapter Eighteen

  5 days left, or would be if it wasn’t already over.

  The closer Sophie got to Rose Valley, the more anxious she became. Though her time at Oasis Canyon Spa and Resort hadn’t been a picnic of emotional tranquility, it’d been easier to deal with in a remote location, away from the “real world.” There, she could pretend that everything was as it should be. That she wasn’t there to heal a broken heart caused by a husband she never wanted in the first place. That it didn’t destroy her when she found out that he never wanted her forever.

  She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment that her fake marriage had become real to her. The moment the ice around her heart melted into a big puddle and evaporated with the warmth of her love for the man she was never meant to be with. Maybe when he announced her as his wife and plugged the bakery after his fight. Maybe when he told Grams the story of how she met her husband. Maybe when he did his best to beat her at the carnival games or when he freaked out at the top of the broken-down ride. Either way, it didn’t really matter when it happened. All that mattered was that it had. And just like so many before him, he’d planned on walking away from her.