We load up in my car and Marianna’s; I follow her to this supposedly awesome restaurant they all go to for lunch on occasion. We pull up outside this small family diner place; apparently they have a lot of healthy menu options or something like that. It’s packed full, so I guess it’s a pretty popular place. Laurel hops out of the car and runs inside to get us a seat while I park the car.
We all pile out, and we head inside. The place is packed, but somehow Laurel managed to get us all a large booth; we squeeze in. Laurel sits on one side of me, Britany on the other. Across from us LaWanda, Marianna, and Katie sit while Eleanor pulls up a table on the end, saying she doesn’t like squeezing into booths anyways. I don’t blame her; there is no elbow room.
They all order fried chicken Caesar salads, swearing that it’s amazing, so I follow suit. “Fried chicken before a match? Why not?” I joke.
“It is a salad, Jonathan,” Eleanor says, and I laugh.
“I can’t believe I’ve never been here,” I say, looking around at the crowd. “Must be good with this many people crammed in here.”
“Oh, it is,” Laurel says.
We all start talking about my match; I got to say, I’m really pumped about it. The server comes and dumps all the salads down on the table. I haven’t even taken a bite out of my food before I hear a familiar voice shouting, “Yo, Trial!”
I cringe. Looking up, I see Donte Evans wondering over from the little bar, drink in hand. Donte? Really? I frown, and the women all see my tension. “Hey,” I grunt slightly –hardly able to believe he actually came over to speak to me.
“What’s up, man?” he says, only slightly tipsy. Kind of early to be drinking. I just shrug. He looks around the table and smiles. “Ladies,” he says, giving them all a polite nod. He points at Britany, “Hey, I know you. I saw your match last week, well, not all of it –they did a highlight reel or something like that. Nice.”
Britany does a half-smile, “Thanks.”
“All of you boxers?” he asks, glancing around the table.
“MMA,” Laurel says and points over at LaWanda and Marianna, “Them too.”
“Rest of us box,” Katie says.
Donte laughs, “Man, Trial, you boxing in the women’s league now?”
I roll my eyes, “Yeah, sure, why not.”
“Look,” Britany says, picking up on my discontent, “Think you two could catch up later? We’re kind of eating.”
Donte rolls his eyes and holds his hand up in his face to block her out. I see Britany’s jaw drop; he’s lucky she doesn’t stand up and punch him. “I heard you’re teaching self-defense courses to rich stay-at-home mommies. That true?”
“Yeah, Donte,” I hiss, “what of it?”
He laughs. “Geeze, man, you sure did fall hard, didn’t you?”
“What’s your problem?” Eleanor says, spinning around in her chair and shooting him a look that could kill.
Donte puts his hand down, removing it from Britany’s face. “You really need your gal pals to fight your battles for you, Trial?”
“You know what, man, piss off,” I say. “We’re not friends. Fuck off and wipe that damn smirk off your face before I do it for you.”
Donte just stands there, smiling like a jackass. Laurel puts a hand on my shoulder, a silent warning to stay seated before I do something I’d regret. Donte looks dead at her, “Is that what you’re fucking now? Damn, man. You really did fall hard.”
If Britany wasn’t between me and him, I’d strangle him. I don’t have to, though. Eleanor, Britany, and Katie all jump up. “Walk away, you creep,” Katie warns.
Donte holds up his hands, one still gripping a beer. “Easy, ladies, it was just a joke,” his eyes dart back towards me. “I got a new lady myself… speaking of which… you talked to Brandi lately? Got to say, it’s weird banging a pregnant chick, but I make it work.”
Donte? Donte! She’s sleeping with Donte? I lose my shit. Now that Britany’s standing, there’s nothing blocking me from jumping up out of the booth. “I’ll fucking kill you!” I snarl, and I feel Britany grab my arm, and Eleanor and Katie jump in my way.
Donte is laughing like a jackass as the manager and one of the bartenders appear. “What the hell is going on over here?” one of the men say; he shoots me a look that tells me to cool off. I yank my arm away from Britany and stand there completely stoic.
Katie points at Donte, “this creep whipped his dick out.”
Donte’s eyes go wide. “What the fuck?” he snaps.
“Are you serious?” the manager glares at him, “Are you fucking serious?”
Donte stammers, “I-I didn’t do that!”
“I’m calling the police,” the bartender says.
“No, no, no!” Donte says quickly, “I’ll leave, I’ll leave!”
“Get the fuck out of my restaurant!” the manager screams.
Donte is at a loss for what to do. “Okay, okay! But I didn’t –she’s lying! You stupid bitch!”
The bartender grabs him, “Don’t talk to her like that –get the hell out of here!”
Donte takes a step back, “I’m going! I’m going –fuck!” He starts to step away. He points his finger at me, “Your kid is going to call me daddy, you dipshit. Enjoy your fucking salad,” and he storms out of the restaurant after being forced to pay his tab.
I sink back down beside Laurel. Britany, Eleanor, and Katie all slowly sit back down. The manager is standing over us, apologizing for Donte and promising to discount our tab as though Donte’s behavior was somehow his fault; I get the impression the women come here a lot –enough for the manager to know most of their names. I sit there, staring at my uneaten salad. I feel Laurel wrap her arms around my left arm, and I look at her. “Are you all right?” she asks, and I just shake my head.
Britany puts a hand on my shoulder, and I can feel the other women looking at me with these sympathetic stares. “I’m sorry,” I say as I turn to Laurel. I kept my mouth shut when he insulted her, but the moment he mentioned Brandi I lost my mind. She must be pissed at me.
“Sorry?” she questions, “For what?”
She doesn’t even know what I’m apologizing for. I just shrug, not wanting to get into a deep conversation about where my head is at in front of her friends. “So…” I hear Marianna, the lightweight of the group, speak softly, “you… um… you’re going to be a dad?”
“Shut up, Marianna,” LaWanda kicks her under the table.
“No, it’s okay,” I say and attempt to shake off what just happened. “I’m all right. Uh… yeah, my ex-wife… she’s pregnant, but she doesn’t want me to know that. Our old housemaid kind of spilled the beans; Brandi, she’s keeping it a secret from me. I didn’t want to get the woman who told me fired, so I’ve been trying to get Brandi to tell me herself.”
“Well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore,” Laurel says, “now you get to tell her you know who she’s dating and that the jackass told you her little secret.”
I hadn’t thought of that. I smile, “Yeah, I guess it’s all going to come out now. I just don’t know what she’ll say when I talk to her. It’s obvious she doesn’t want me anywhere near the baby right now…” my voice sort of trails off. I feel sick.
“Well,” Katie says, “We got your back. If you need anything, that is.”
I smile. “Thanks.” I pick up my fork and decide to attempt to eat my lunch; the women all follow my lead, and we attempt to salvage our lunch plans, but there is an uncomfortable feeling in the atmosphere now. I can’t stop thinking about Brandi. Donte –really? How did that even happen? I think back to the night Donte and I got into it in the locker room; he and Brandi had left at the same time. I can picture it –that smug asshole sweet talking her, apologizing for getting me all worked up. I bet that was it. That was the day she left me too, and Donte probably swooped in, trying to play the night in shining armor. I shake it off. Unfortunately, I don’t have time to think about this today. I have a match to worry about tonight.
<
br /> 54
My fury that had been building all day about Donte and Brandi was taken out on the poor sap who thought he could actually take me in the ring. He’s done by the end of the first round, and I win by knock out at the beginning of round two. This was just what I needed; I have broken my horrendous losing streak –and I did so without getting my ass handed to me.
As I am leaving the locker room, I spot Laurel and the guys all waiting on me. “Man, that was awesome!” Bobby is practically giddy when I step out of the locker room to greet them.
I smile, “Thanks, man.”
Laurel comes and wraps her arms around my neck, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “Not bad for a washed up boxer,” she says with a wink.
“Guys, check this out!” Tyler says, whipping out his phone for us to see. “They’re already doing a story about you on the news, man! Jonathan Trial –making a comeback! This is just what you needed!”
I hear clapping behind me and turn to see my new manager trotting up to us. “Man was I glad to see this version of Jonathan Trial again,” he says and clasps my shoulder. He points a finger at Laurel and winks at her, “She must be your lucky charm.” He shakes her hand and introduces himself. “I’ve seen you before?” he questions, and she tells him about her career as an MMA star, and nods. “Yeah, I thought so. I’ve seen your stuff, nice.” He points at Marty, “And I know you too. Marty, right? Nice, man,” Caleb shakes his hand. He looks at Tyler for a moment. “Tyler, right?” he questions, and Tyler about loses his shit.
“You know me?” he asks.
“Yeah, you box, right?” Caleb asks, “I think I went to one of your matches. Yeah, against that skinny jackass from Detroit. Nice job, man.” Caleb has no idea how much he has just rocked Tyler’s world. He looks at his phone, “I’m getting a call. I’m sure you all are heading out to celebrate, so I’ll catch you later,” he disappears.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Marty says, “Someone has actually seen you box, Tyler.”
“Shut up, man, let me enjoy the moment,” Tyler says, and we all laugh at his expense.
We all head out to a local bar to celebrate –not that Laurel and I will be having anything to drink, but the atmosphere is enough for now. We order some hot wings and talk about the match and what this will mean for my career. We’re about ten minutes into our dinner when I spot Damion hanging out by the bar. “Damion!” I shout, and the old man spins around and laughs.
I don’t notice right away, but he’s got a woman with him. He’s got his arm around her waist, and she seems reluctant to come over. Suddenly, I realize why. “Alex?” I hear Laurel say.
“Hey,” she grumbles.
She’s got to be twenty years younger than him –that, or she’s seriously aged gracefully. “Um…” I say, “What’s up, Alex?”
“Nothing much,” she says and twirls her hair awkwardly.
“You look good all dressed up, Alexis,” Laurel teases, “I hardly recognized you.”
Alex flicks her off. “So I heard you won your match tonight?” Damion asks.
“Sure did,” I say and can’t help but to smile.
“Won? Are you kidding? He dominated!” Bobby exclaims. “He knocked the guy out in the second round, and he had him running the whole time.”
“Good job, kid,” Damion says.
“You going to let me back into your gym?” I ask.
He laughs. “Sure, kid, but you know I can’t train you right now. I’m booked.”
“He don’t need you anyways, old man,” Marty teases, “he’s got a whole gym full of ladies who’ve got him sparring every time he’s on break.”
“So I’ve heard,” Damion says and smiles at Alex for a moment. “All right, I’ll let you guys celebrate. Had to tell you congratulations, though, Jonathan.”
“Thank, Damion,” I say as the man is walking off with Alex; I see the old pervert pinch her ass, and she jumps and glances back. We’re all grinning at her, and she looks really embarrassed.
“Who knew Damion was a sugar daddy?” Tyler jokes.
We all laugh at Alex’s expense. We leave it alone, though, because my victory match is still the main topic of conversation, and I’m glad. I’m excited, and I’m ready to celebrate. Before I have a chance to say much, my phone starts going off. “Shit, it’s Brandi,” I say.
“Who’s Brandi?” Bobby asks; I really need to fill him in on some things.
“Answer it,” Laurel says, “Guarantee you that she and Donte had a little talk today.”
I nod and step out of the booth; I walk outside of the bar before answering the phone. “Hey, Brandi,” I say.
“Hey,” she says, and she is especially soft spoken.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“Listen,” she says, “I know you spoke with Donte today.”
“Yeah, thanks for the heads up about that, by the way,” I snarl. “I can’t believe you, Brandi. I mean, Donte?”
“Shut the hell up,” she warns, “that’s not what I’m calling you about, and you know it.”
“Yeah, you’re pregnant,” I say, “did you call to find out if Donte told me that or did he tell you he told me?”
“He didn’t tell me,” she says, “so, yeah, I was going to see if you said anything.”
“How dare you?” I say, “You’ve been keeping this from me for months! I can’t believe you would-”
“Really, Jonathan?” she snaps, “really? You can’t believe that I wouldn’t want you to know? Can you even blame me? I mean, honestly?”
I grit my teeth. I’m tired of trying to be the nice guy with her. I’ve been trying so hard to show her that I’m turning my life around, but she just won’t give me any elbow room. “You know what? No, I don’t get it. You don’t have a right to-”
“Oh, shut up,” she says. “I don’t want you anywhere near me or my child.”
“Our child,” I say, “and if you want to make this difficult, it’s going to be difficult.”
“Are you threatening me?” she asks.
“Yeah, I am!” I shout into the phone. “Brandi, I love you. I really do, but I’m done listening to you insult me every time we talk. I’m tired of trying to prove myself to you. I’ve got a job, I’m sober, and I’m even getting my boxing career back on track now. And if you think I won’t fight for my kid, then you’re out of your damn mind!”
“Fight then,” she says, “because that’s obviously all you know how to do.” She hangs up the phone.
I shake my head and then head back inside the bar to try to salvage the evening.
55
Today is going to be as short day at the gym. I have another match this evening, and I’m looking forward to it. I’m glad that Alex is really chill about me leaving work to go box. I’d be screwed if I was working anywhere else. Alex is avoiding Laurel and me, but she is not going to be getting of that easily. Laurel is going with me to my match this afternoon, so when the time comes to leave, we wind up cornering Alex by the locker rooms.
Laurel grins at her, “So, Alex, what’s the story between you and Damion?”
“Oh, Geeze, really?” Alex blushes, “Not today, you two.”
“Awe, come on, Alex,” I say, “Give us something juicy.”
She rolls her eyes. “I used to work on his marketing team back when he boxed.”
“Geeze, how old are you?” I joke, and Laurel elbows me in my side.
“Cute,” Alex says with an eye roll. “We dated back then, and we’ve recently been catching back up.”
“Back then? What were you, twelve?” I ask, and Laurel socks me in my arm.
“Funny,” she says, “I was twenty when I was part of his marketing team –it had been towards the end of his boxing days.”
“Damn, Damion,” I say, “he had to be, what, thirty-five?”
“Would you shut up?” Alex says, “I own your ass. I’ll fire you.”
“All right, all right,” I say, “Sorry.”
“Get out of here before I
make you work late,” Alex says.
Laurel and I laugh, and we head out of the gym. We take my newly remodeled Volkswagen to the arena, and Laurel laughs about me still having the pink, fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror. “I’ve grown attached,” I say.
“Sure, sure,” Laurel says, “whatever you say, Jonathan”
We head inside, and I get ready. Marty and Tyler aren’t here this time around, but Bobby managed to make it. He and Laurel head to the audience while I head to the locker room. My manager, Caleb, sent his little assistant, Will, to help get me prepped. He ties up my hands in the bandages, and I roll my eyes and have to tell the guy how to do it correctly. It makes me miss Gabe; that had always been his job.
This is a slightly more experienced boxer who’s taking me on, but he’s still an amateur. I’m hoping this one will get a little bit more attention from the media. I head out to the ring, and I’m feeling really pumped after my last match. I’m ready.
The guy comes out swinging; he’s really sloppy. This will be easy. He can’t land a punch, and he has no form. I knock him three times in the face with a tremendous amount of force before he starts remembering to hold his gloves up. Poor guy’s nose is definitely broken. He holds his gloves too high, and I get him in the chest or the side of the head. Wow, this is almost too easy.
The first round ends, and I head to my little corner where Caleb is standing. I guess he’s pretending to be my trainer. “Nice going, man,” he says, “you’re off to a good start.”
“Thanks,” I grumble from behind my mouth guard. His buddy Will wipes my face with a towel.
Round two starts, and it’s equally embarrassing for the other guy. He’s holding in there, though. In round three, I knock him out within the first minute. I grin; I hardly took any heat from the poor guy, and he took a serious pounding. The crowd loses their minds; I can see a lot of smart phones out, and I hope this match is all over the internet. This is just what I needed.
After the match Bobby heads back to work, but Laurel and I head back to her apartment for a little private celebration.
Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection Page 146
