by Meg Maguire
“It’s an open invitation. So whenever things get wrapped up here...”
“Right.”
He smiled grimly. “Don’t go into guilt-mode again.”
“I can’t help it.” And it wasn’t only guilt. It was selfish sadness and frustration, this official notice that they’d be breaking up. This proof that whatever he felt for her wasn’t enough. For the second time in her life, a man was choosing boxing over keeping her close. Only this time, she was old enough to realize it.
She shook her head. “That’s so far away....”
“Listen, Jenna. I’m not talking about this with you. It’s what I’ve got to do, and I need you to just trust and respect that my decision’s a good one.”
“It has nothing to do with respecting or trusting you. It’s about me needing to understand, because...well, because I’ve gotten awfully attached to you.”
His expression softened. “And you know that’s mutual.”
“We talk about everything else. I can’t stand the idea that my plans are driving you all the way out of your hometown.” Your territory, she thought. Like she’d emasculated him, sent him packing off to distant lands to start his ruined life over.
“Well, I don’t want to talk about this with you, okay?”
“Why not?”
Another sigh, a heavy one, and he stared down at his knee. “Because it’ll make you feel bad.”
“I feel bad already. Try me.”
He ran his hands over his head. “I can’t stick around here. I can’t be this close to the gym after it’s closed. I can’t keep seeing you, keep coming over here—certainly not continue to live here—remembering how things were before you showed up.”
Her mouth dropped open. She felt slapped.
“See? I told you it would hurt. But seriously, once the gym’s gone and my entire purpose in this town is finished, coming by here to see you... It’ll be like walking past a grave. I want to tell you I’m above winding up bitter about it, but I can’t promise that.”
“Mercer—”
“What we’ve got going on, it’s great. I want it to end still feeling great, not just for us, but because you’re Monty’s daughter. I want us to end on a high when I move away. I don’t want to stick around here and find out in six months or a year that I resent you, and have what we’ve got end in some ugly fight. That would wreck our relationship, and the memory of the one I had with your dad. I couldn’t save the gym. But I can keep from hurting you, which he would’ve wanted. And what I want, too.”
She wanted to argue with him, but the thing was, he was right. He was being painfully honest with her. She didn’t want Mercer to resent her. She didn’t want to watch him settle for some consolation, good-enough job in the city, a witness to whatever successes might lie ahead for her. Or worse, to watch her fail in the long run, discovering he’d sacrificed what he loved for nothing.
Mercer was a good man, but only a saint could possibly be asked to do all that and smile through it.
“I understand.”
“Good.”
“Still sucks, though.”
He smiled. “I know. But it’ll suck less than an ugly breakup. Or even if we just...fizzled, or whatever.”
She doubted very much that something as passionate as the bond they shared could ever just fizzle, but she nodded. Perhaps snuffing out their candle was the most merciful way to go.
“When we say goodbye, it’ll be sad, but we’ll still like each other.”
Much more than just like. “I know.” She scooted over to lean against him, laying her cheek on his shoulder. “But it’ll still suck.”
He stroked her hair and missed the top of her head. “That it will.”
12
JENNA STARED BLEARILY at her laptop, headache brewing. She glanced up as Lindsey swept through the door. The office was finally organized, but Jenna couldn’t yet say the same about the party.
“Good morning, and happy Mixer’s Eve,” Lindsey said brightly. It was Friday, the day before the party.
“Actually, I’m afraid it’s not such a good morning.”
Lindsey frowned and shrugged off her jacket. “No? What’s happened?”
Jenna looked at her screen, at the bad news in question. “Our event security’s fallen through. I woke up to the email.”
“An email cancellation? How tacky.”
“No kidding. Apparently the company just folded overnight. Some dispute between the owners. And these are the guys Tina recommended.” She sighed. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any go-to security folks?”
“Weddings don’t usually call for bouncers. Though some of the ones I’ve survived really should’ve considered it.”
Jenna rubbed her temples. The fact that she’d been sleeping poorly didn’t help her mood much. Two nights in a row she’d gotten perhaps four hours’ real rest. The remainder of the time she’d spent lying awake with a possessive arm locked around Mercer, brain stuck on an endless loop of to-do items and panicky calculations of how many weeks remained before the man she loved moved away.
“You think we could get away without it?” Lindsey asked. “It’s only a cocktail party.”
“Not a chance I want to take. Neither of us is up for playing bouncer, if people break the two-drink-maximum rule and get rowdy.”
Lindsey nodded her grudging agreement. “I’m sure we’ll find something. It’ll just cost. I’ll call around first thing.”
“No, I’m on it. I’ve already got a list of possible companies. Though most of the websites want two weeks’ notice. We’ve got less than two days. But as soon as this coffee kicks in, I’m getting my groveling boots on. You want some?”
Lindsey nodded and took her seat. “Please. The Green Line broke down on me, no surprise.”
“You’re right on time,” Jenna said, filling a mug.
“Yeah, but I wanted to be early, since it’s the eleventh hour. Thanks,” she said, accepting the cup. “What do you want me to tackle while you worry about security?”
“Organizing. Confirm when the food and drinks and music are getting there, and make sure the hotel can still send a van to pick us and all those centerpieces up. Mercer offered, but he’s busy with his own party of sorts.”
Lindsey nodded. “One with paramedics on hand in place of cocktail waiters. Say no more. I’m on it.”
“Thanks.”
After a pause, Lindsey skirted the desk and patted Jenna’s shoulder. “Don’t stress. Up until the security thing, we’ve had amazing luck. Trust me. If nothing had gone wrong by now, I guarantee something would’ve imploded at the actual party. Something always implodes. Now we just know what it is!”
Jenna smiled. Lindsey was a frank and grounding presence.
She also had to admit she was anxious about more than the cancellation. She was down about Mercer leaving, and though she tried to tell herself they still had a few months together, that it was for the best... Well, it hurt. A few months was plenty of time for him to start resenting her, the thing they both feared even more than their actual parting.
“I have that appointment with the events person at the hotel at ten-thirty,” Lindsey reminded Jenna. “I’ll swing by the printing place on the way.”
“Do you need petty cash for a cab?”
Lindsey drained her cup in two gulps and grabbed her purse. “I’ll walk. It’s gorgeous out there.”
“Great. See you in a bit.”
Barely a minute later, Rich appeared in the doorway. He’d been turning up to say hello with rather tactless frequency since Lindsey had started. That she was thoroughly immune to his charms didn’t seem to deter him. Quite the opposite. But he seemed to have forgiven Jenna for the gym’s upcoming closure, and she welcomed his shamelessness. It beat angst by leagues.
“She’s gone out for the morning,” Jenna said, opening a new email.
“Who has?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re not half as smooth as you think you are,” she teased. “I hop
e you’re better at poker faces when it comes to your matches.”
“The best,” he said with a smile. “And I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“What can I do for you, Richard?”
“Nothing. Just saying good morning. You all ready for your big party?” He swiveled the guest chair around to take a seat.
“Nearly. Except the security guys we hired fell through this morning.”
“Ouch. You really need muscle for a cocktail thing?”
“Probably not, but it’s not a risk I’m going to take. Do you know anyone in security, by any chance?”
“Got a cousin who’s a mall cop in Peabody, but you don’t want to hire him. Trust me. What about us, though?”
“Who? You guys downstairs?”
“Sure. I’d do it. Mercer’s, like, in love with you, so he’d do it.”
She blushed, praying Rich wouldn’t notice.
“How many you need?”
“I booked three, but I think two would do. But come on—we decided not to invite any of you to come to the party because of how rude it would be. Once the gym closes,” she added quietly.
“Sure, but me and Merce already know the score. Plus you’d offer to pay us, right? It’s not like you’re using us to pad the male population. Mind you, we would show up all your blue-shirted business-weenies.”
Jenna frowned, considering his offer. It’d be tough to find anyone she trusted as much and on such woefully short notice. And she would pay them.... But she didn’t like the idea of the gym and Spark overlapping this way, or of feeling she was taking advantage of Mercer. “Maybe.”
“What maybe? It’s totally easy. No classes for either of us to worry about after five on Saturdays. We won’t drink. I’m charming as all get-out. Gimme, like, two minutes to talk Mercer into it, and your problem’s solved.”
“You can’t rough anybody up. You can only escort people out if they get drunk, that kind of thing. Very quiet, very discreet. No scenes. Though likely you’ll just be bored, standing around all night, watching nervous people flirt.”
“Fine. What do we need to wear?”
“Same as the guests. Business casual, but with security badges, I guess. I wonder where I could get those from....”
“I’ll find something,” Rich said. “Probably a good idea. If we pass for guests, we’ll seduce all your single ladies away.”
“Well, fine. You’re on. If you can pull it off, you’re welcome to the gig. We were going to pay the other guys forty dollars an hour—”
Rich waved the notion away. “I only cared that you’d offer to pay us. Mercer won’t let you, and much as I’d like to think I’ll take the money, I probably won’t.”
“We can argue about that later.”
“Great. I love a good fight.”
Jenna smiled at him. “Thank you. That’s very helpful. I’ll need you there early tomorrow. The party starts at seven and goes until ten, officially, probably more like ten-thirty. But you guys should be there at six-thirty, to meet the hotel staff and get a sense of the room, that sort of thing.”
“Plenty of time to shower and get gussied up for you.”
“Lovely. Thank you, Rich.”
“You got it, boss.” He returned the chair and headed for the door, turning in the threshold. “What’s Lindsey’s favorite color?”
“Oh gosh, I don’t know.”
“Don’t women always know that kind of crap about each other?”
“Um, plum, maybe. Her purse and phone are plum-colored.”
“What’s that—like purple?”
“Very dark purple.”
Rich made a thoughtful face and nodded, then disappeared in the direction of the gym.
* * *
WITH THE SECURITY CRISIS AVERTED, Jenna spent the rest of the day checking off the final boxes on her mile-long to-do list. At three she finally found the nerve to pick up her phone and make the call that intimidated her the most. She listened to the dial tone, heart pounding in her throat.
“Tina Maxwell.”
“Hi, Tina, it’s Jenna.”
“Jenna, how are you?” That smooth, schmoozy voice. Jenna nipped her annoyance in the bud the second it registered.
“I’m getting nervous,” Jenna admitted. “But mostly excited.”
“You’re going to do just fine. Have you got your welcome speech memorized?”
“Pretty much. I know what I want to say, but I always sound dumb when I just recite, so I’m going to wing it a little.”
“Good plan. Tomorrow should be all about conversations. Just talk to your clients like friends, because that’s how we want them to feel. Guests at a friend’s party. Plus I’ll be there. If you start to fumble, I’ll step in and praise the heck out of you.”
“Sounds good.”
“All the details wrapped up?”
“Getting there,” Jenna said. “We had one snag with the security company you recommended.”
A pause. “Oh?”
“Yeah. They, um, sort of...disbanded.”
“Oh my. Have you found replacements?”
“Yes.” Please don’t ask who. Please don’t ask who. Tina hadn’t come out and insulted the gym members, but they were obviously on the same level as pests in her estimation, above cockroaches but firmly below noisy next-door neighbors.
“I should be arriving around two,” Tina said, and Jenna found herself able to breathe again. “I’d love to come by the office and see what you’ve done. The photos you emailed looked fabulous.”
“That should be fine. We’re heading to the hotel to set up at three-thirty.”
“Wonderful. I’ll see you then. Don’t hesitate to call if you have any questions or concerns. And let yourself be excited! You’re going to do just great.”
“Thank you. Oh and Tina?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t forget, all the guys who belong to the gym downstairs, they don’t know yet about it closing. Only the employees, so...”
“Never fear. This job’s made me a walking card catalog of diplomatic details. My lips are zipped.”
They said goodbye and Jenna felt that little ball of acid in her stomach. She sighed, just as Lindsey appeared with their very late lunches.
“Toasted sesame bagel with chive.” She set Jenna’s paper bag beside her computer. “What was that gigantic sigh about? Has anything else gone wrong?”
“No, not at all. Just talked to Tina. Just feeling crappy about the gym closing. I won’t bore you with my guilty laments.”
“It does suck.” Lindsey opened her bag and spread a napkin over her desk. “They’re nice guys, all the ones I’ve talked to. I hope they stay nice, after the bomb drops.”
Jenna nodded. She didn’t like thinking about that, either. Mercer’s reassurances notwithstanding, fighters struck her as a passionate group. She hoped everyone would take the bad news in stride. “We’ve got Mercer and Rich on our side, at least. They’ve got a lot of sway.”
“Are you going to the tournament?” Lindsey asked, smearing cream cheese on her bagel.
“Probably, yeah. I want to, because it means so much to Mercer, and I’m really rooting for Delante and Rich to win their matches. But I don’t like that stuff. Watching people get hurt. Even if it’s what they enjoy.”
“I looked MMA up online the other night. It’s sort of cool. Not cheesy like I expected, like pro-wrestling. It’s pretty badass.”
“Indeed.”
“Then again, I have five brothers who lived and breathed hockey growing up, and played tag like the point was to rip your head off. Fighting doesn’t shock me too much. Plus watching live, unless we got really amazing seats...you can’t see too much of it, the bloody stuff. Especially not with the cage thing in the way.”
“What’s this ‘we’ business?” Jenna teased. “Are you going?”
“Why not? Mercer and Rich are stuck yawning their way through our big night. We should say thanks by wincing through theirs.”
>
“Mercer hasn’t even invited me.”
“I’m sure it’s implied,” Lindsey said. “He is your boyfriend, whether you’ll admit it or not.”
“Maybe.” Then again, the tournament marked the beginning of the end for their relationship. Once that came and went, the secret would be out, the gym’s closing going from a theoretical worst-case scenario to a very real eventuality. She didn’t think she’d much enjoy the event with that looming over them. “Maybe.”
“I just found out Rich could win, like, fifteen thousand dollars,” Lindsey said. Was it just Jenna, or had she mentioned his name just a little too casually?
“Yeah. He’s nearly a headliner, third-to-last match on the card. I don’t know who the guys are who are in the two super-top fights.”
“Fifteen grand, for, like, twenty-five minutes’ work.” Lindsey shook her head and took a bite of her lunch.
“Not twenty-five minutes I’d ever want to take part in. Not for a hundred grand.”
“I saw videos of him online. Of Rich, I mean. He’s a freaking weirdo.”
“Yeah, Mercer said he’s got an obnoxious ringside manner. Some fighter shtick. Shall I tell him you’re stalking him on YouTube?”
Lindsey snorted. “God, no. His ego’s inflated enough as it is. I was just trying to figure out how violent the tournament was going to be, to decide if I wanted to go, and his was the only name I knew to look up.”
“Ah.” Jenna nearly believed her. Nearly.
“Oh, you know what we forgot?” Lindsey said, setting her bagel aside.
“No. What?”
“Name tags.”
“Oh, crap—”
“Don’t panic. I found some awesome ones at Paper Source.” She leaned over and picked up her purse, fishing out boxes and handing them to Jenna. “I got a hundred, just in case. Pretty nice, huh?”
She studied the stylish stickers and the silver pens Lindsey passed her. “Yes, very. And good catch.”
“I’m so excited. I can’t wait to chat with people and steer them toward possible matches. Diplomatically, of course.”
“And draw the shy ones in, too,” Jenna said. “Tina told me that can be an issue. Letting people hang back is awkward for everybody, so we have to take the lead on them. But I’ve peer-pressured more than a few wallflowers into socializing during my cruise days. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
