Romance: Her Fighter

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Romance: Her Fighter Page 2

by Ward, Penny


  There were two bedrooms, one bathroom, the kitchen (which doubled as a small dining area), and the living room.

  I used the restroom real quick before finishing my exploration.

  Her room had a computer, which I promptly booted up in the hopes that it wasn’t password protected. Knowing my Mom, it wasn’t, but maybe her boyfriend—whoever he was—had helped her set it up, in which case, I was screwed.

  I didn’t have a computer of my own even though I was an accountant and worked on a computer all the time at work. I’d never needed one before as I didn’t use social media except on my phone and I didn’t do a lot of anything else, including email, although I would use that to retrieve my resume and update it since I hadn’t needed to in over five years.

  Maybe I’d be able to use hers to search for a job rather than trying to find the local library.

  When the computer instantly went to a desktop screen, I couldn’t believe my luck.

  “Yes!” I cried. “Finally, something’s going right.”

  For the first hour I was in Mom’s apartment—my new home, I reminded myself—I searched online for accountant jobs and applied to several that looked promising.

  Afterwards, I shut down the computer and scoured the kitchen for something edible before heading to bed.

  I wasn’t surprised to find I was tired.

  What surprised me was that I hadn’t fallen asleep earlier.

  I was in a completely different time zone than I was used to, and jet lag hit me hard as soon as I laid down in the second bedroom I assumed was mine.

  Later, I told myself as I drifted off to sleep, I’ll hang up my pictures and call Kate to let her know I’ve arrived in one piece.

  I just need a nap first.

  When I awoke, I blinked in surprise and wondered what time it was.

  I grabbed my phone and cursed when I realized I hadn’t plugged it in. It was dead. What if one of the places I applied to tried to call me?

  The fear that something like that had really occurred made me shoot out of bed like a ball out of a cannon and dig through my purse until I found my charger.

  “It lives!” I cried, mocking an old horror film as I saw the red light that suggested my phone was charging. Then I went to the kitchen to eat something before booting up the computer once more.

  I waited until after I ate and the phone had some semblance of a charge before I called Kate, knowing she would want the full details, what little there was to offer.

  “Claire, is that you?” she asked as she answered the phone.

  “Umm, yeah,” I replied.

  “It’s o’dark o’clock in the morning. Call me in a couple hours,” she grumbled into the phone and hung up without a word.

  I guess I needed to learn exactly what the time difference was and base my phone calls around such.

  Oops.

  The first couple of days in the apartment were just like that. I spent a lot more time sleeping than I was used to as I got used to the time difference, returning to my usual seven hours of sleep afterward.

  My day consisted of researching different companies and their open positions before applying to them and submitting my resume.

  After a week, I was beginning to get a little stir-crazy though. I needed to get out of the apartment.

  Maybe I’d have some luck searching out on the streets.

  It was a crazy idea, but it beat staring at a computer screen for hours on end. Besides, I’d had yet to explore the city, and I was dying to do just that.

  I was in New York friggin’ City, after all.

  What kind of person would I be if I didn’t go sightseeing?

  With my mind made up, I dressed business casual and pulled on a pair of flats. No way was I going to walk around New York in heels when I didn’t know my way around. That was suicide in LA.

  I wanted to look professional so that if I saw a job opportunity, I could make a great first impression.

  I made sure my cell phone was fully charged (it was), stuck a pad of paper and a pen in my purse, along with a vanilla folder with a few copies of my resume (just in case) and set out, locking the apartment behind me.

  The air was cool, and I was glad I had a light jacket on.

  I didn’t know much about New York weather other than the fact that they got snow whereas LA didn’t ever seem to have any. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen snow, actually.

  I looked around, trying to figure out where I wanted to start my self-tour.

  “Lost?” someone behind me asked, and I turned around to find myself staring at a man with a smug grin on his face, as if he knew everything about me.

  “Not yet,” I replied. I spun around once more, taking in everything around me. “Overwhelmed.”

  “First time in the Big Apple?” I returned my gaze to him, drinking him in.

  He was tall, broad and very good-looking. His skin was flawless and he had a sense of confidence radiating off him.

  His arms crossed across his chest and muscles seemed to be built on muscles. He was very toned. That was clear.

  His light brown hair was cropped close to his head on top, but completely shaved on the sides.

  Dark eyes sparkled with arrogance.

  Yum…

  I could get to like New York a lot.

  “That obvious, huh?” I asked with a wry grin.

  He lowered his arms to his sides and stalked closer to me, his gait measured, as if he was half-expecting me to run from him.

  As if.

  “Your eyes are as round as English tea cups,” he teased, brushing my hair out of my eyes. “Yeah, it’s obvious.”

  “And I bet you know this city like the back of your hand, huh?”

  He grinned, and I felt the tug of attraction toward him.

  He did certainly look delicious enough to eat.

  Man, it had been a while since I’d found myself attracted to a new man.

  Now that I felt it, I knew that Michael’s breaking up with me had been one of the best things of my life. There was no attraction between us, not even the stirrings of one.

  It was more like we’d settled one another’s physical needs, and that was all. He just picked a sucky time to end the relationship.

  “Close enough.”

  “Hmmm,” I replied, not convinced. The verbal sparring was fun though. “So tell me, where should I turn to for a guide?”

  His grin widened and he offered me his hand. “Look no further. My name is Ryan.”

  Before I could answer, my phone rang, blaring out Katy Perry’s California Girls. Ryan laughed even as I cursed and fished my phone from my pocket.

  “Dammit, Kate, I warned you about changing my ringtone!” My skin flushed, but in all actuality, I found the whole thing hilarious, especially considering how far away from California I now was.

  “Hello?” I didn’t recognize the number, and I could only hope that it was one of the places I’d applied to calling me back. When the person, a young woman who explained her name was Jill, requested to speak to me, I said, “This is she.”

  “Miss Williams, I was just reading over your resume and wondered when was the soonest time you might be able to come in for an interview.”

  “Any time you like,” I replied, trying not to sound too desperate. I needed a job or I was going to go crazy.

  “Can you come down today?” Jill asked.

  “Give me an address, and I can head there now.” She rattled off an address and I repeated it back to her once to confirm it. “I’ll see you as soon as I get directions,” I told her.

  “Good. See you soon, Miss Williams.” She hung up.

  I shoved the phone back in my pocket, and spun around in a circle, happy that I had gotten a call back already. I froze when I saw Ryan still watching me with an amused expression in his eyes.

  “Oh, hi again.”

  His eyes danced. “Need to get somewhere?”

  I brushed my hair back and smiled up at him. I know that I am a ne
w girl in a big city, but something about this man made me feel safe.

  “Actually, yeah. I have a job interview. Do you know how to get to Black Dragon Mixed Martial Arts Gym?”

  He chuckled, as if I’d said something to amuse him, although I couldn’t figure out for the life of me what it was. “I was heading there myself when I came across you,” he said.

  “Oh.”

  Well, that explained the chuckle.

  “How about you and I get a cup of coffee—” He paused as he waited for a name.

  “Claire,” I told him, holding out my hand, which he took in his own, rubbing his thumb in a slow circle across the back of my hand before he released it.

  “Claire. How about you and I get a cup of coffee, and then I’ll take you there myself.”

  A calming cup of coffee before the interview did sound like a good idea.

  “Sure.”

  He gave me a firm nod and then took a hold of my arm, leading me across the street and into the café there.

  “Don’t think I just picked this place because it was closest,” he told me as we stood in line. “It is actually one of the best places in this area. Their coffee is decent and their muffins are to die for.”

  “So, you know the muffin man?” I teased, grinning.

  He glanced down at me, his eyes shining again. “Of course. She’s married to the muffin man.”

  Oh! A man who could take a joke and respond in kind. I liked that. This was getting better and better.

  Maybe Kate had been right.

  Maybe coming to live with Mom had been the best decision I’d ever made. As we stood in line, we chatted about random things that came to mind. He was definitely someone who thought he knew everything, and I caught him a time or two, proving he certainly wasn’t the Internet.

  He was right about the muffins though. As I sank my teeth into a blueberry cheesecake muffin, I felt my mouth water in delight. It was as if the angels shone down from heaven and sang.

  “Oh wow!” I said, and took a sip of coffee. “This is great.”

  “Told you.”

  I chose to ignore the arrogance in his voice.

  I had him pegged well, I believed.

  He was the kind of guy who always got his way in every aspect of his life.

  No one told him he was wrong.

  No one told him no.

  Usually, he was the kind of guy I’d avoid, but he was also fun to be around, so I stayed, telling myself I’d disappear if he ever showed signs of demanding things of me I couldn’t accept.

  “Here we are,” he said as we rounded a corner and ended up in front of Black Dragon Mixed Martial Arts Gym.

  For a moment, I stared up at the sign, trying to place why it sounded familiar, but then I shook my head and turned to Ryan. “Thank you for the directions, the company, and best of all, the muffins.”

  “My pleasure,” he replied with a cocky smile.

  Wiping the few remaining muffin crumbs off myself, I held my arms out. “How do I look? Interview-worthy?”

  His eyes traveled along the length of my body before returning to mine. “You look beautiful. Go get ‘em tiger.”

  With a ferocious grin, I turned away and walked inside the gym, praying that I get the job.

  My life is starting to look up…

  Chapter 3

  “Hello, my name’s Claire Williams, and I’m here about a job interview,” I said to the woman standing behind the counter when I first walked in.

  I could only assume it was Jill, the woman I’d spoken to on the phone.

  She smiled at me. “Ah, yes, Miss Williams. Give me just a moment.”

  She looked up as the door opened again.

  “Hello, there Mr. Coulson. How are you today?”

  “It’s been an interesting day so far.”

  I turned at the sound of the voice, surprised to see Ryan standing so close behind me. His eyes met mine, and there was a gleam to them that was caught between amusement and some other emotion I couldn’t put my finger on.

  Jill interrupted any thoughts I might have spoken out loud.

  “That’s good. You might want to hurry though. You know how Derrick is.”

  “Yeah, I know. Slave driver.” Ryan shrugged out of his coat and hung it on a coat rack behind Jill, kissing her cheek as he passed.

  “Lovely as always, dear,” he said, but his eyes were on me, as if he knew I was watching him.

  My cheeks flooded with embarrassment, but then I pulled my attention away from him and smiled at Jill, trying to seem unperturbed by his behavior.

  My action brought another chuckle from his mouth.

  At least I knew now where that had come from. He worked here. Great.

  For all I knew, he was the one who would be interviewing me. Double great.

  “If you’ll follow me, Miss Williams,” Jill said, breaking my troubled thoughts and leading me towards the back, past the ever-smirking Ryan.

  If I wasn’t so scared that he might end up being my boss, I would have stuck my tongue out at him like a child.

  As it was, I just concentrated on breathing and followed Jill to an office near the back of the gym where I saw across from a large man looking over a few papers.

  “Mr. Taylor?”

  The man looked up at Jill’s voice, a frown on his face.

  “How many times have I told you to call me Mitch, Jill?” There was no reprimand in his voice, only a hint of amusement.

  She smiled at him. “At least once a day. You’re my boss. Get used to it.”

  He huffed at her and then grinned when he saw me. “Ah, you must be Claire. Come in. Have a seat. We have much to discuss.”

  I complied with his request, letting out my breath when it became apparent that I wouldn’t have to face Ryan for my interview.

  That would have been completely embarrassing.

  The man across from me gave me a quick once-over, as if trying to decide what to make of me. After a minute, he smiled.

  “Claire, when could you start?” he asked.

  “As soon as you need me to,” I replied.

  “Good.” He nodded. “The truth is, not very many people have applied here. Most of those who have either want more than we can afford to pay them at this time or are too green to handle what we’ll be asking of them. I’m hoping you’re in the middle.”

  I waited, not understanding exactly where the conversation was going.

  “This gym is old and getting older every day. It still garners some respect since it’s been around these parts the longest, but we don’t get the kind of business we used to, don’t draw as many fighters as we used to. Because of that, we seriously need to figure out what assets we need, and what needs to be cut. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He waved his hand before him. “None of that ‘sir’ stuff around here, Claire. Call me Mitch. It is my name, after all.”

  I decided I liked Mitch.

  He was a no-nonsense kind of guy—straight to the point.

  “Is this looking at being a temporary job or a permanent job?”

  His chair creaked as he leaned back, sizing me up again, as if he was trying to decide if I could handle the truth.

  After a few minutes, he spoke again.

  I guessed I’d passed his test.

  “Honestly, I don’t know. I will have to lean on the side of caution and say temporary. The truth is, while I would like it to be a permanent job, this place may end up going belly up in the next few months if we can’t get back on our feet and draw in some new blood. I can’t guarantee anyone a permanent job anymore, not even the staff already here.”

  That was understandable, and something I could work with for now.

  “When do you want me to start?” I asked in reply.

  He pointed at me. “I like you, Claire. I think we’ll get along just fine. Start whenever you like.” He gestured to the mountain of paperwork behind his desk. “This is some of what we’ve got, but what we reall
y need is an updated list of all our assets and a general idea of what money is going where and how we can better adjust such to bring in more people.”

  I nodded.

  Finances were what I was good at, what I was born to do.

  “Who would be the best person to talk to about figuring out what counts as an asset around here? I won’t pretend and tell you I know much about gyms. The truth is, I know squat. Numbers, I’m good with. Gyms? Not so much.”

  Mitch laughed and pointed towards the door. “We have three fighters currently, and they’re the best ones to answer that question, Claire. Ryan should be here, although I’d wait until after Derrick finishes tearing into his hide to speak with him. On top of him, there’s also Boris and Tyres.”

  That was more information than I’d been hoping for from the get-go.

  It was definitely enough to work with at the moment.

  “Thank you, Mitch. I look forward to working with you.” I stood and leaned over the desk to reach for his hand.

  He took it and gave it a firm shake. “As I you, Claire.”

  I decided now was as good as time as any to start – sightseeing could wait.

  I spent the rest of my first day delving through the mountain of paperwork behind Mitch’s desk.

  He allowed me the use of his office for the day, telling me he’d clean out one of the other rooms in order to set up an office for me.

  Taking off my coat and throwing it over the back of the chair, I sorted through page upon page of numbers: money going out and coming in.

  How in the world did they ever file taxes at the end of the year was a mystery, but somehow they did.

  They didn’t have anything that would have caused an audit to hit them.

  However, I noted that the money going out was becoming larger and larger while the money coming in was getting smaller.

  That must have been what Mitch had been talking about.

  Still, I needed to learn more from the staff that worked here. I shook my head and continued sorting the paperwork before me.

  The truth was that I was avoiding Ryan.

  Even though I was glad he hadn’t been the one to interview me, I still felt awkward for not realizing he worked here. I sighed as I rubbed at my eyes for the hundredth time.

 

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