by Claire Adams
I shifted my study of the photograph to Fenton and could not ignore the flutter of excitement in my stomach. He had come to the restaurant specifically to disrupt my date with Jackson. A man did not do something like that if he did not care about the woman. Cell phone footage was staring to roll out of Fenton telling me "You certainly don't want to be with him."
I had not denied it, but then again I had not been given much of a chance to speak. And, I had not figured out what Fenton meant about his sister's friends.
I sprang off the couch and went to open my own bottle of red wine. Luckily, the dancers had not raided the wine refrigerator and I did not care what vintage I was drinking. Had Fenton just done it for the publicity?
An official statement had been issued by the MMA putting Fenton on probation. There was no way he had pulled the stunt at the restaurant to further his career.
I glanced at the door to Fenton's room before I returned to the sofa. He had beaten me back to the suite and was passed out cold when I arrived. Somehow, I was sure he already knew about the probation. For all his wild acting, Fenton was a professional. That is why he raised his hands and left the restaurant before things went any farther.
My phone rang and I picked it up. "Go ahead and give me the lecture, boss. I deserve it. Our clients get the headlines, not us."
"Lecture you? Honey baby, if I was there I would kiss you!" James crowed. "The publicity is through the roof! The vitamin people are so impressed with the stir you've created that they've sweetened the deal."
"Are you serious? I thought the whole thing was shot and you're telling me it’s better than ever?" I asked.
"Shh, pretend like you meant all of this to happen. Pretend you did it all on purpose. I've been telling everyone you are my protégé and that I taught you everything you know. Don't make me look bad now, baby," James said.
"Because only you would start a fight in a restaurant and almost get your star athlete Tasered in order to boost his publicity and get more money for the endorsement deal," I said.
"Exactly. Keep up the good work, gorgeous!"
My boss hung up the phone and I closed my eyes. None of this was actually happening. I prayed I would wake up with a bad hangover only to find it was my first night in Vegas. Then, Fenton would be next to me and we would have a chance to start over.
The knock at the door made me jump a foot into the air. I smoothed down the black dress I still wore and steeled myself to greet the stripper, Dana Maria, and her friends. Instead, my jaw hit the floor when Jackson slipped into the suite and grabbed my hand.
"I had to come by and see how you are," he said. He kissed the back of my hand and then handed a box of chocolate-covered strawberries. He then produced a bottle of champagne and two flutes from his pockets. "I hear they go well with champagne and I know you like that, so here I am. I figured dinner got screwed up, so why not skip to dessert."
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. How could I explain to him that Fenton was asleep in the next room? I had to tell him and try to make him believe it was strictly work before Fenton appeared and things got even stranger than earlier.
Jackson pressed a finger to my lips. "You don't have to say anything. I know you were pursuing Fenton for work. None of what happened tonight was your fault. You had no idea the guy would get crazy possessive of you and stalk you around Las Vegas."
He pulled me over to the couch and unwrapped the champagne bottle. The pop of the cork made me wince and when I opened one eye, I immediately looked at Fenton's door. "Jackson, there is something I have to tell you," I said.
"I'm telling you, Kya, there is no need to apologize. All I ask is that you taste one of these strawberries and have a sip of champagne. I hear it is the perfect combination," he said.
He lifted a strawberry to my mouth and I was forced to take a bite. Then, he handed me a champagne flute. I tried not to gulp it down and let the sweet oblivion help me escape my awkward reality.
"Delicious right?"
"Now, please, Jackson, I have to tell you something about Fenton," I said.
"No, don't worry. All I'm interested in is us," Jackson said. He leaned in and dropped a sweet kiss onto my still fizzy lips.
"It looks like all you're interested in is dying," Fenton interrupted. He stumbled against the doorframe of his bedroom. "Stand up, McRay, there's no armed security guard to do your dirty work for you this time."
"What the f?" Jackson said. "He's staying here? You've got to be kidding me. What does it take to get a minute alone with you?"
"I'm sorry, Jackson. My company put us up here in the hopes of convincing him to take the deal," I said.
"Come on, sweetheart, don't lie to the poor man," Fenton said. He gave me a wicked wink. "The suite was your idea, and it has been a sweet deal for both of us."
Jackson jumped up from the couch and squared off in front of Fenton. I was shocked that Jackson would willingly fight Fenton when I saw Fenton's eyes glaze over and his body sway.
"Stop it right now, both of you. Fenton, you're drunk, and, Jackson, you know he's in no shape to fight you or anybody," I said.
"He's been asking for a fight since the first night we met. You just strolled up and pulled her away from me. I bet you're not even really interested in her; you just want to mess with me. I know your type, always trying to get revenge on people who are better than you," Jackson said.
"That's enough." I pointed to the door. "He's not out to get you, this has nothing to do with you. And, it has nothing to do with me, either. Fenton's just making sure he keeps up his reputation, you know, the lone wolf that doesn't need anyone. You need to leave; you need to go pass out. Goodnight."
I put my hands on my hips and waited. Jackson glowered at Fenton. I was surprised when his look extended to me and felt relieved when he finally turned and headed out the door.
"Kya, I gotta tell you, I gotta say… I'm going to be sick," Fenton said. He rushed into his room and dove into the bathroom.
I cringed at the sounds I heard, but could not in good conscience retreat to my room and shut the door. Instead, I grabbed a large bottle of water from the refrigerator, found a bottle of aspirin, and followed him in.
"Are you alright? How much did you have to drink?" I asked.
Fenton shook his head slowly, "I'm fine. Just mixed my liquors. Should have stayed passed out."
"Why? Why did you decide to do this?" I asked.
He pushed past me and flopped into his bed. I pulled off his shoes and untangled his legs from the sheet. He took the bottle of water and drank a small sip.
I thought he had passed out again when he laid a hand on my wrist. "I was mad at you," he said.
I turned my hand over and squeezed his fingers. "I was mad at you, too, but I didn't get blind drunk."
"No, you left," he said.
The way he said it twisted my heart as if I had done something unforgivable. "I didn't leave. I got out of your way. You had a guest, remember?"
"So, you went off and picked up that pretty boy golfer?" he asked. "You trying to make me jealous?"
"Jealous? I'm not the one crashing dates around here," I said.
He smirked even as his eyes drifted closed. "You know you don't have anything to be jealous about. You just wanted me, I just wanted you."
I fought the urge to brush back his thick black hair. Fenton eased farther back against the pillows and flinched.
"Here, take some aspirin. You're going to need a clear head when you see the photograph of all of us," I said.
"One big happy family?" he asked.
"One big pissed off security guard," I said. "And, it's all over social media."
"Don't care about that," he muttered. "Just know I've seen guys like Jackson before. He looks good, but he's rotten. He only wants one thing."
"To ruin your career?" I asked. "Oh, wait, that's you."
Fenton opened his eyes. "Let me guess, I'm on probation."
"Did you do it on purpose?" I was not sure I wa
nted to know the answer, but I could not help but ask.
He shook his head. His eyes never leaving mine. "Why are you still here, Kya?"
I set the aspirin down on the bedside table and avoided his look. "The probation is nothing. All you have to do is lay low until your next fight and everything will be fine."
"Seriously. Why are you still here?"
I looked at Fenton again and could not tell what he was feeling. It was impossible to know if he was pushing me, mocking me, or protecting himself. No matter what way, I was not up to the challenge. Fenton could hurt me too much, I already knew that.
"I heard from my boss and he says the vitamin people are even more interested now that you've gone viral," I said. "The deal is even better than it was and I have to make sure you consider it."
"That's it? Just doing your job?"
"It’s too good to pass up," I said. The deal was so good that it was worth wrecking the scraps of goodwill we had managed to pull back together. He deserved to hear about it, no matter what it did to us.
"Get out." Fenton turned off the light and rolled away from me. I got up and finally retreated across the suite to my own bedroom.
Don't be a fool, there is no us, I reminded myself.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Fenton
I woke up to my head pounding and my phone ringing. Kya's bedroom door was shut. I would have slammed mine if I could stand the sound. Instead, I answered my phone.
"It’s me," my sister said.
"Where are you? I thought you were going to stay here?" I rolled over and blinked at the clock. "You're up early. I thought you would sleep in after your shift."
"Kinda hard to sleep in at my place," Dana Maria said.
I sat up and rubbed a hand over my eyes. "Are you still in your car? That's why you were supposed to be staying here. You can't keep doing that, Sis."
"It’s the best way to save money. And stop giving me advice, Fenton. I've seen your life and I gotta say, I think it’s a bigger mess than mine."
"That's not fair. You've only seen me a few times. Maybe Vegas isn't bringing out the best in me," I said.
"Don't blame the town, Fen. And remember, you can't fight everything and everyone," Dana Maria said.
"Yeah? And who should be the first for me to kiss and make up with?" I thought about our father and how he was never friends with anyone.
"I saw your picture. Maybe you should start with that girl of yours. She was ready to fight for you. You should return the favor. Anyway, I was just calling to let you know I'm alright. I'll see you around, Fen." She hung up the phone.
I could not bear to face the bright sunlight of the white decor living room. Still holding my phone, I flopped back in bed to check the damage. The photograph was everywhere. It was great publicity for me despite the probation. It was even great publicity for the golfer; he looked like the hero good guy. I wanted to spit on him. The only thing that stopped me was Kya.
If Kya had been the untouchable good girl, the Country Club Princess, before, she was done now. All the headlines and captions lambasted her. All the articles talked about her going wild, letting loose, and, my personal favorite, tarnishing her halo. She was in my territory now.
I would have felt bad for her, if I did not remember catching her with the golfer just outside my bedroom door kissing on the couch over glasses of champagne. The surge of anger burned off some of my hangover. I got out of bed and marched to her door. What would I say?
I turned and went to the kitchen to make a hangover cure. I was just choking it down when I noticed the folder and note on the counter:
I had to tell you about the offer. It is too good to pass up. I understand you want to do everything on your own and that makes sense to me. I'm the same way. That's why I am pursuing other athletes. Now there's no pressure, I'm not depending on you. Make this decision for yourself. – Kya
I opened the folder. She was right; the deal was very generous. The contract was for a surprisingly long period. It would set me up for long enough to get settled. It would help me survive the ups and downs of my MMA career.
I tore the contract to shreds.
Kya had not mentioned anything about us. She had not explained why I caught her kissing Jackson McRay on the sofa. She had very carefully kept work and personal life separated. I should have respected that. It seemed the more I tried to maintain that separation, the worse my life got.
"Don't have a hangover, do you? Because I'm going to make you drink that egg thing that Aldous always cooks up." Kev let himself into the suite and joined me in the kitchen. "Jesus, what does that little scrap of paper say? Is that a new offer?"
"I'm not taking it."
Kev leaned on the kitchen counter. "You didn't think I would reach that conclusion on my own? What's with the shredding?"
"I just don't want any more distractions. I need to focus on defeating Maxwell Lewis," I said.
"Oh, right. So it has nothing to do with Kya Allen," Kev said. "I thought you two were becoming a thing."
"She's only interested in me as a client." I pointed to the scraps of contract and the note.
Kev read the note and shook his head at me. "You realize she was only doing the right thing. She owed it to you and to her clients to pass along the new offer. Takes integrity to do that even if it jeopardizes her personal interests. I mean, I guess. That's what I hear about integrity, anyway."
I chucked Kev in the shoulder and he complained about the bruise all the way down to the waiting cab. He distracted me with his normal litany of near-conquests and sexual fantasies. I had to smile. It was impossible to brood when Kev Casey was around. The ride was quick and by the time we met Aldous at the gym, I was ready to focus.
"Go team!" Kev said. He peeled off to chat with a pair of female boxers.
I started the circuits that Aldous timed. He had obviously seen the photograph, too, but my coach did not say a word. He would not say a word unless I brought it up. I worked harder. I would not be in Las Vegas training for the title fight without my manager and my coach. No matter how much I wanted to be a lone wolf, I was part of a team.
I had not realized it before. Kev and Aldous were more than team members. Despite Kev's disgusting conversational skills and Aldous' habit of preaching, they were my friends and family. I had never struggled to separate our personal relationships from business. We all lived what we did.
Kya was the same.
There was no reason to keep her out of my life. She fit perfectly. All I had to do was show her I was better than some Polo shirt wearing golfer. I trained hard, burning off all the other distractions. I was going to win my next fight.
I meant to go straight back to the suite and stay out of trouble, but suddenly, I was striding through the casino. I saw Jackson McRay in his light blue Polo shirt. He leaned against a video poker machine and toyed with Kya's copper curls. She pulled back and smoothed her hair down, but then she smiled at him. I had to do something. I would not cause a scene, but I would get Kya's attention.
"Oooh, Fenton Morris. I've been dying to meet you!" The voice came through a strong white light.
I blinked and discovered a camera crew surrounding me. Actually, they surrounded a leggy blonde in a short blue dress. I recognized her from all the headline websites that had featured my photograph.
"Whoa, wait. I'm not reality show material," I said.
"Oh, forget about the cameras. I'm Sienna." She pressed against me and giggled.
I had to appreciate the firm curves of her body and her blatant exploitation of my appearance in the casino. Sienna was only skin-deep and easy to figure out. I wrapped an arm around her waist and pretended the cameras were not there.
"You look like you could be a good lucky charm," I said.
"Want me to blow on some dice for you?" Sienna asked.
I laughed loudly and paraded the reality show blonde farther into the casino. Kya looked up from her video poker machine. Despite the outpouring of her winnings, s
he frowned at me. It was not what I intended, but it certainly had grabbed her attention. She was not the only one that could pursue other angles.
Over Sienna's wriggles and giggles, I watched Kya brush off Jackson McRay. He looked ready to punch someone until a horde of short-skirted fans surrounded him. Kya disappeared from the casino. I suffered another half an hour of Sienna draped over me and vamping for the cameras. Then, I unhooked her arms from my neck and headed upstairs.
The bright white decor of the luxury suite was lit only by the fireplace. Outside the wide windows all of Las Vegas sparkled. Kya's door was shut tight. I wanted to knock on it, but instead, I stood in front of the view. Las Vegas surprised me. I loved it. Minutes from the neon and faux explosion of the Strip was the desert. And, in between all the tourists and vacation facades, there were real people working hard. For one moment, I was content. I could stay put. The suite was silent and comfortable, Kya was in the other room safe and sound, and I felt good.
Instead of waking her up and ruining everything with words, I went to my room. There in the middle of the bed, was a stuffed black cat toy with a red ribbon around its neck. Kya had scribbled a quick note:
Saw your tattoo and thought you might like this. Who says black cats are unlucky? You don't need luck; we all know you're going to win. – Kya
I tucked the black cat under my arm. The black cat tattoo was entwined in the skin art all over my back, bits and pieces from my life. Somehow, Kya knew the cat meant more to me than my first motorcycle, the first cash I won fighting, or my first pair of boxing gloves. She had seen straight through all the skulls and roses, the stone angel and guns and picked out the one thing that summed up my entire childhood.
My mother's sweet black cat, Lucy. That cat lay on her bed, purred, and kept her warm, until she passed away.
"Don't believe what people say about black cats, Fenton," my mother had said. "Luck isn't real, good or bad. It's all up to you."
