“I guess that makes sense,” Katrina said, nodding.
Remington pulled out a chair for Katrina and served the food. Katrina was still astounded and enchanted by Remington’s old-world manners. During dinner they talked and drank wine.
“This soup is amazing,” Katrina told Remington. “So’s this bread. You have very good taste,” she said, smiling.
“Thank you, I’m glad you like it,” Remington said, inclining her head.
They talked about other things for a while.
“I’m sorry this is a bit weird date-wise,” Remington said at one point, looking somewhat embarrassed. “I mean, having to be in someone else’s house and all.”
“It’s okay. With what you do I understand that it’s not easy to get away. It’s not like a normal job,” Katrina said, smiling. “I really am glad you called me, and I’ll take whatever time I can get with you at this point. It was really nice of Ms. Kincade to say I could come here.”
“I promise I’ll have another night off again at some point,” Remington said, but then grimaced slightly.
“What?” Katrina asked, seeing the look.
“We just got told about a tour that starts in about three weeks, so I’ll be lucky to get a day or two off between now and then,” she said, looking apologetic.
“That’s what I get for getting involved with someone so important,” Katrina said, grinning.
“Hardly important,” Remington said, “just protecting someone who is.”
“And protecting someone is very important, Remi,” Katrina said.
Remington looked circumspect, but nodded.
Later they took their wine and moved to the large living room with the huge flat screen TV hanging on one wall. They watched movies for a few hours, with Remington’s arm on the back of the couch behind Katrina. At one point during the movie Katrina jumped, moving closer to Remington. She glanced up at Remington and bit her lip, smiling shyly as she did.
Remington caught the look and smiled softly too, leaning down to kiss Katrina’s lips gently, her arm moving to encircle the other woman’s shoulders. They kissed for a few minutes, but Remington kept the kisses sweet, not pushing for anything else. To her it would be completely inappropriate for anything else to happen between them in Wynter’s home. When their lips parted again, Remington looked down at Katrina, her look searching. Katrina wasn’t sure what Remington was looking for, but she could tell that this was not going to be the night they made love for the first time.
She’d figured that would be the case. Remington didn’t strike her as the type to do something like that in her employer’s home. This was definitely a very different kind of relationship. Not that she minded at all, it was nice to have a woman treat her gently for a change. To keep Remington from feeling like she needed to explain herself, Katrina simply leaned her head against Remington’s shoulder and turned back to watch the movie.
After two movies and a few glasses of wine, Katrina was getting sleepy. The rain outside had picked up and the wind was starting to howl.
“I think maybe you should stay here tonight,” Remington said, her tone concerned.
“I don’t want to be a bother,” Katrina said, shaking her head.
“It’s not a bother,” Remington said, touching her cheek. “I don’t want you driving in that rain, especially not tired and after a couple glasses of wine…”
“I’m fine, really,” Katrina said, though her tone indicated she was less sure of that, even as she said it.
“Please stay here tonight,” Remington said softly.
Katrina couldn’t help but be moved by Remington’s tone of voice combined with the look of concern in her hazel eyes.
“Are you sure it will be okay?” she asked Remington.
“I’m sure,” Remington answered, nodding.
“Okay,” Katrina said, “thank you for offering. It’s very sweet of you.”
“Come on,” Remington said, taking her hand as she turned off the TV. “I need to do a final check on Wynter anyway.”
“Okay,” Katrina said, getting up to follow Remington.
Remington led her up the stairs to the bedroom almost at the end of the hall, and gestured for her to enter. Katrina walked into the room. It was nice, spacious, and it even had a door out onto a balcony of its own.
“Make yourself comfortable.” She opened a drawer in her dresser. “If you want something to sleep in, see if anything in here will work. I’ll be right back,” Remington told her.
Remington knocked lightly on Wynter’s door. Lauren had not come home yet. She heard Wynter say, “Come” and opened the door.
“Everything okay?” Remington asked, seeing Wynter sitting on her bed, using her iPad.
Wynter looked up, her face completely free of makeup, her long dark hair falling around her shoulders. She wore a lavender tank top and matching bikini underwear and nothing else, it was what she usually wore to bed. Remington made a point of keeping her eyes slightly averted, which made Wynter grin.
“Everything’s fine,” Wynter said, her tone reflecting her amusement at Remington’s discomfit. “Is everything okay over there?” she asked, a wry grin on her lips.
Remington gave her a narrowed look, and then quickly looked away again, making Wynter chuckle softly.
“I hope it’s okay, I told Katrina she could stay the night. It’s getting ugly out there,” Remington told her.
“Of course it’s fine,” Wynter said, nodding. “I’m hoping Lauren passes out wherever she is so she doesn’t try to get home in this.”
Remington raised an eyebrow at the term ‘passes out,’ but nodded.
“If you need anything, let me know,” Remington told her.
“I’ll be fine,” Wynter said. “You can close your door tonight if you… aw… need to,” she said, with a wink.
Remington once again gave her a narrowed look. “That wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“Which part?” Wynter countered.
“Either,” Remington said.
“I see,” Wynter said, nodding and grinning at the same time.
“Do not start,” Remington said seriously.
“I didn’t start anything…” Wynter said, stretching with her arms above her head, her tank top rising to expose a fair amount of tanned and very toned skin.
Remington closed her eyes, shaking her head; the woman was just too much sometimes. She heard Wynter chuckle again.
“Good night,” Remington said pointedly.
“Good night…” Wynter said suggestively.
Remington glowered at her for a moment, then turned and walked out the door, closing it softly. Wynter sat on her bed, her look contemplative. She found herself feeling a bit jealous that Katrina was sleeping in bed with Remington that night, and part of her was relieved that apparently, they wouldn’t be having sex at all that night. She knew it was silly, but it didn’t matter, she was glad.
“Everything okay?” Katrina asked when Remington walked back into the room.
“Everything’s fine,” Remington said, smiling. “That looks pretty good on you,” she said, grinning and indicating the shirt Katrina wore.
It was a black and purple Venum tank top with the snake head and name “Venum” on it in white. It was a little bit big on Katrina, because she was small, but Remington thought it looked pretty good.
“Is this from your fighting days?” Katrina asked.
“Yes,” Remington said, nodding, “I wore a lot of Venum’s stuff. I liked it.”
Remington pulled clothes out of a drawer and told Katrina she’d be right back. She went into the bathroom and came out wearing a dark gray tank top that said, “Rowdy Women” with the letters MMA under it in white, and black boy shorts.
“Is that what you normally sleep in?” Katrina asked as Remington put her clothes in the hamper in her closet.
“For the most part,” Remington said, nodding.
Katrina was sitting on the end of Remington’s bed. She got up when Re
mington walked back over to her. Remington looked down at her, reaching to touch her cheek gently, then leaned down to kiss her softly on the lips.
“Ready for bed?” Remington asked. “Or did you want to watch some TV up here?”
“We could watch some TV,” Katrina said. “Maybe the news has some information on this storm.”
Remington nodded, picking up the remote on the nightstand, and turned on the TV. They both settled on the bed, sliding under the covers and leaning against the headboard. Remington found some news and turned it up. There were the usual stories about robberies, murders, etc. They promised weather after the commercial break, so they waited. When the news came back on, however, they did the sports stories next. There was a story about a football player involved in a scandal, and then the sportscaster said, “Speaking of scandal, Akasha Salt is doing her best to stir a scandal in the world of MMA fighting. Check out this clip of Ms. Salt in New York earlier today.”
Katrina glanced over at Remington and saw her roll her eyes, then she looked back at the TV. They were showing a black woman, her hair a mass of wild curls, who was making wild gestures and talking to the camera.
“Yeah, Remington LaRoché is nothing but a coward. She quit this sport because she didn’t want to face me. She retired, because she knew I was coming after her title!”
Katrina looked over at Remington again, and saw that she was grinning sardonically as she shook her head.
“Who is that?” Katrina asked, her tone a bit appalled.
“She’s another MMA fighter,” Remington said.
“She talks like she doesn’t like you very much…” Katrina said, shaking her head.
“She talks a lot,” Remington said, nodding, her look unaffected by Akasha’s harsh words.
“And what she’s saying doesn’t bother you?” Katrina asked.
Remington grinned, shrugging. “Like I said, she talks a lot.”
Katrina shook her head. She couldn’t believe that having someone talk about her that way didn’t bother Remington, but she really didn’t look the least bit concerned.
“There you have it,” the sportscaster was saying. “Did Remi LaRoché really retire to avoid a bout with Akasha Salt? We’ll be working on getting a comment from Ms. LaRoché shortly.”
“Bon chans…” Remington muttered, saying ‘good luck’ even as the sportscaster continued.
“But the former Women’s UFC Champion isn’t one for speeches or comments.”
They then showed a clip of Remington; it was a pre-fight interview. She was asked how she thought she’d fair against the other fighter.
“I think if she’s better than me, she’ll win,” Remington had said simply, then walked away.
The interview looked back at the camera then, a grin in place. “And there you have it.”
“Of course, Remi LaRoché went on to win that fight,” the sportscaster said. “She was an undefeated champion of the sport, and that’s got to rub other fighters the wrong way. Perhaps that’s what’s happening to Ms. Salt. We’ll just have to see if Remi LaRoché will have anything to say about the matter.”
Again, Katrina looked over at Remington who simply quirked her lips in a grin.
“Undefeated?” Katrina asked as the news went to another commercial break.
Remington nodded, her look completely lacking any sort of ego.
“That sounds like it’s pretty impressive.”
Remington only shrugged.
“You really don’t show off at all, do you?” Katrina asked, mirroring the observation that Wynter had made of Remington earlier on.
“I was raised better than that,” Remington answered.
Katrina nodded, grinning. “I guess you were, but isn’t that like part of that kind of sport? The crap talking?”
Remington considered for a long moment. “I guess for some it is, but it never was for me. I don’t talk about it, I just do it.”
“I guess that does seem like you,” Katrina said.
They watched TV for another half hour. When both of them grew tired, Remington turned off the TV, and settled down. Katrina lay down too, facing Remington, unsure again suddenly. Remington made it easy, holding her left arm out so Katrina could move closer to her, then Remington put her right hand at Katrina’s waist. They fell asleep facing each other, with Katrina snuggled close to Remington.
Wynter got up in the middle of the night, going down to the kitchen for water. On her way back to her room she couldn’t stop herself from looking into Remington’s room. She saw the two women sleeping close together and felt that same odd stab of jealousy, but shook her head at herself.
As if she sensed her there, Remington stirred and looked over her shoulder.
“Everything okay?” Remington whispered.
Wynter smiled slightly, nodding. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Sorry to wake you, go back to sleep.”
Remington looked back at her, like she was trying to discern if Wynter was telling her the truth. Finally, she nodded, turning her head back toward Katrina again. Wynter left the room as quietly as she could.
The next morning, Katrina awoke to find Remington wasn’t in bed. She looked around, then noted that the door to the balcony was slightly ajar. She got up and looked out onto the balcony. Remington was on her phone. She could hear her speaking to someone, but couldn’t understand what she said.
“Oken li se fin,” Remington was saying. “No… no… wi… li se konsekans… no, manman… li se fin…” She sat back in her chair, taking a drag off her cigarette, blowing out a stream of smoke a few long moments later. “Dakò… wi… Mwen renmenw tou. Bon babay.” She hung up a moment later, tossing her phone on the coffee table in front of her. She sat back and lit another cigarette, taking a deep drag and blowing the smoke out slowly. She knew she was smoking more lately due to the stress of the current situation, it was becoming a nasty habit.
Katrina opened the door to the balcony. Remington glanced over her shoulder, as she stood up, smiling at Katrina.
“Bonjou,” Remington said, her accent very clear at that moment. “I’m sorry, good morning,” she said then, realizing she was still speaking Creole.
“How do you say it?” Katrina asked.
“Bonjou,” Remington repeated slowly.
“Bonjou,” Katrina repeated, her accent not quite right, but Remington smiled anyway.
Remington gestured to another chair on the balcony. Katrina sat then Remington followed.
“So, you stay standing until I sit down?” Katrina asked.
“Yes,” Remington said, nodding.
Katrina nodded too. “It’s really nice. It makes a woman feel special.”
“As all women should,” Remington said, inclining her head.
Katrina bit her lip, looking back at Remington, still so surprised by her ways, but finding them very endearing, especially when paired with someone whose appearance was so contrary to the ideal of a “gentleman.” People would expect Remington to be very street sounding and acting, more like a hood than the fine gentlewoman that she actually was.
“Did you sleep well?” Remington asked.
“I slept great,” Katrina said, “really great, thank you.”
Remington nodded, looking pleased. “And the storm seems to have given way to a beautiful day.”
Katrina looked out to the sky and took a deep breath of fresh clean air.
“Yes, it does,” she said, smiling.
“Who the fuck is Akasha Salt?” Wynter practically yelled from the balcony door.
Remington shook her head ruefully even as she stood.
“Stand down, Remi,” Wynter said, motioning for Remington to sit.
Remington remained standing until Wynter glanced up from her phone again and rolled her eyes. She sat down so Remington would sit too.
“So?” she asked when Remington didn’t answer her original question. “Who the hell is this bitch?”
“Good morning,” Remington said pointedly.
Winter gave her a quelling look then glanced over at Katrina, having just noticed her sitting there.
“Oh, hi, sorry,” Wynter said then, and she reached across the coffee table to extend her hand to Katrina. “I’m Wynter.”
“Hi, I’m Katrina,” Katrina said, smiling and shaking Wynter’s hand.
Wynter leaned back, throwing Remington a look. “So?” she asked again.
Remington shook her head. “She’s another MMA fighter,” she said simply.
“Well, I guessed that from the story, Rem. I meant why is she going after you so nastily?”
Remington shrugged. “She’s always been a talker.”
“Talk?” Wynter repeated. “You mean talking shit. Did you hear what she said about you?”
“Yes, I heard,” Remington said.
“And you’re going to go hand her her ass, when?” Wynter asked, her tone deceptively sweet.
Remington shook her head. “I’m not, I’m retired.”
Wynter looked back at Remington thinking she had to be joking. When she realized she wasn’t she made a noise in the back of her throat.
“You can’t let her get away with that bullshit!” she raged. “I mean,” she said, her look suddenly hesitant, “unless you really are afraid of her.”
Remington’s hazel eyes stared back at her for a long moment, her face very serious.
“I’m not afraid of her,” she said simply.
“Have you fought her before?” Wynter asked.
“Twice,” Remington said.
“And you’re undefeated,” Katrina added.
“So that means you’ve beaten the bitch twice?” Wynter asked.
Remington inclined her head.
“Then what the fuck!” Wynter exclaimed. “Who the hell does she think she is?”
“It’s safer to mock the Devil while in Heaven,” Remington said.
Wynter narrowed her eyes. “She thinks she can talk shit because you’re retired.”
Remington didn’t answer, merely looking back at Wynter.
Wynter looked over at Katrina. “Have you seen any of her fights?”
“No,” Katrina said, shaking her head. “I did look up her record though.”
“Oh, you need to see her fight,” Wynter said, glancing at Remington who was already rolling her eyes and shaking her head. “Bullshit, Remi, she needs to see that,” she said, looking up one of Remington’s fights on YouTube on her iPad.
Lightning Strykes Page 5
