by Ellie Danes
“I found these stats on Diaz and printed them before I left the office this morning. I figured you would want to see them before the meeting.”
“Thanks.” I reached for the folder and made sure to brush my fingers over hers as I took it from her hand. She stepped back and sat in one of the white leather chairs, crossing her legs in a way that pulled my attention to them. She was looking down at the screen of her iPhone when I spoke.
“Where do you find this stuff?”
“There are about a million different websites, but I’ve found the Sports Advantage website to be the most reliable. I usually look at multiple sites and then average the information. It usually gives me the best numbers and the truest ones.” The entire time she spoke, she never looked up from her phone. I was realizing more and more that she was a gem, just like Adrienne had tried to tell me. This woman had been working in my office for nearly two years and I’d had no idea that she had this kind of knowledge or talent. She continued to type on her screen once she finished speaking.
I reached over and pulled the phone from her hands and put it in my inside jacket pocket.
“It’s usually frowned upon to speak to your boss while playing on your phone.” I looked down at her.
She smirked and reached to pull her phone from my pocket. I grabbed her hand and pulled her closer to me.
“Of course, it’s also usually frowned upon to do the things to your assistant I want to do to you,” I said with a smirk. As I leaned into kiss her, my phone started ringing, and she giggled.
“Fuck,” I cursed as I pulled my phone from my pants pocket and looked down at the screen. “I’ve gotta take this.”
She nodded and gave me an understanding smile. I turned and walked to the small couch and got comfortable as she closed the door behind her.
“What?” I barked, irritated that my moment with Amy had been interrupted.
I listened as one of my junior agents told me everything that was going down while I was in the air and hopeless to stop it. “Just try to put the fire out, and I'll handle it in a few hours.”
I slammed my phone down on the soft white leather beside me and dropped my head back against the cushion. As much as this business ran in my blood, sometimes it stressed me the hell out. Whiny athletes were a handful and sometimes I just wanted to tell them to suck it up. Seriously, most of the princesses we dealt with were grown-ass men.
I took several deep breaths before I walked back into the main sitting area. Everyone already had a drink in hand and they were chatting about Vegas and the fight.
“Bruce, can you please make sure that 360’s meeting isn't before mine. Also, can't you get Mason under control? I realize he’s being impatient, but he needs to cool his jets and let us do our jobs. If I get another call from another security detail about him showing his ass in a club, we’re done.”
“Seriously?” he asked, genuinely wondering if I was ready to drop a high-profile client.
“As a heart attack.” I sat down, grabbed my drink, and emptied my glass. I was handed another before I set my glass down. If there was one thing about Amy, she knew my every need and was always a step ahead.
“Thanks,” I said as she went to sit back down.
* * * * *
The rest of the flight was smooth sailing and even a bit relaxing, even though it seemed like we were in the air forever. As I stood at the hotel counter waiting to get our rooms squared away, I glanced around the open lobby. Gigantic glass balls pulled my attention toward the high ceiling, but the large displays of flowers were the focal point and gave the room a tropical feeling.
“We have your rooms ready for you,” the lady behind the counter said and smiled as she handed me the room cards. I turned, handing each one of my team members a key.
“I’m gonna come back down and try my hand at the Walking Dead machine!” Amy clapped like an excited little girl. It was pretty cute. “Look, Darryl is on it!”
She was so animated that I wanted to laugh at her but refrained. I needed to find Diaz and get a few minutes with him before his fight later tonight. Being distracted wasn’t an option at the moment.
Chapter Three
Tristan
The entire crowd at the fight was in an uproar—Ryder Rollins had taken Tate out in one of the fastest fights and biggest upsets in history.
“I cannot believe what I just saw,” I said, leaning over to Bruce. “I honestly think we are barking up the wrong tree with Diaz.”
Amy spoke up. “Ryder Rollins hasn't lost a fight, and his style is his own.”
I looked over at her, and she winked. She’d been overly kind, probably trying to make up for my disappointment on not getting that meeting with Diaz before his fight. Disappointment was putting it lightly—I was pissed that no one would talk to me or tell me where to find him.
But maybe it was all for the best, and I should be focusing on Rollins, instead.
“I’ve gotta get some face time with Rollins.” I stood and pushed through a row of chairs, making my way down to the arena floor. I passed the octagon, then pushed through security. I followed the media and went straight to Ryder Rollins’s room. He had the door shut and even with knocking he wasn't opening. I pushed past the reporters and smiled at his security guard, Vance, before opening the door.
“That was some fight,” I announced as I walked into the room.
Rollins had a towel wrapped around his waist and was looking in a mirror, poking at the skin over his left eye.
“You only took one shot. I don't think anyone has ever done that well against Tate,” I went on to tell him.
“Get out,” he said, matter-of-factly.
That made no sense. He should be happy to have me here. Maybe he just didn’t know who I was or what I did. “I’m here to represent you as you move forward. I think—”
“I said get out,” he repeated, still in a very calm voice.
It was clear he wasn’t a people person. Which was all the more reason he was going to need me.
“I would like for you to at least sit down with me tomorrow and let me tell you what I can do for you.”
“Are you going to fight for me?” he laughed, glancing at me through the reflection in the mirror for the first time.
“No, I’m going to make sure you aren't taken advantage of. I’m going to help you make millions of dollars and see to it that you fight in the biggest fights Vegas has to offer. No more spending your time in the trenches.”
“You’re a little sure of yourself,” he said, finally turning around to face me. It wasn’t a huge gesture, but it was more than I thought I was going to get after the initial welcome he’d given me.
“I am,” I said. “I know what I’m good at, just like you do. I also know that you are squeaking by. I can make sure that stops. Give me an hour tomorrow, and I'll make sure you understand what you get when you sign with me.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just send a card to my room, and I'll schedule a time to meet with you. You’ll only get half an hour.”
I forced myself not to show my satisfaction. I walked over and offered him my hand. “That’s all I'll need.”
He just looked down at my hand and then walked away. In my business, egos were usually larger than necessary. Mine included. But for the first time, I felt like it was possible I may have met an ego bigger than mine.
Chapter Four
Zoey
Watching men beat the crap out of each other was not my idea of fun. Football I could watch, no problem. But fights? It had been a change of pace, but not necessarily a good one. I eyed the slot machines lining the casino floor. A little game of chance and losing a few dollars sounded more fun than dancing at this point.
Annette grabbed my wrist. “Come dance with us!”
“You two go on,” I said. “I'll be fine. Really. I just want to go find a slot machine and sit mindlessly for a while.”
“Seriously?” Annette complained.
“Yes, I'll be fine. Promise. You guys g
o have fun.”
She smiled, leaned in, and we touched cheeks, both of us kissing the air like we always did, and then she and her asshat boyfriend were gone. Truth was, I didn't mind dancing. What I minded was her asshat of a boyfriend. I wasn't a fan, and he knew it. And because he knew it, he’d been ruder than ever.
I watched them walk away and then quickly found a machine and put twenty bucks into the slot. I settled into the seat and hit the button. First round, slot machine. I didn’t win a thing, so I hit the button again. And I lost again. After a few more losses, I decided to try my hand at something I had a little more control over. Blackjack caught my eye, not that I was very good at it. I wasn’t, and I lost some more money. Then I stopped and watched a couple of guys rolling dice on a table. It didn't seem too hard, so I put some money on the table for chips and gave it a shot. I really had no clue what I was doing, but when the dice came to me, I made my bets and rolled. Before long I was winning, and winning big. I had over a thousand dollars, and there was a crowd around the table cheering me on.
I noticed him first just off to my left. His arms wrapped in a crisp white shirt opened at the collar, no tie. He placed money on the table and smiled at me. We glanced at each other over the next several rolls until a waitress came around. At that point, the people who had been separating us had moved on, and he was beside me. He smiled and asked what I wanted.
“Jack and Coke would be amazing.” I smiled up at him.
He was tall, maybe six foot three or four. I wasn't a short woman, but my stature was dwarfed by him. His smile was sure and friendly, but I sensed a hint of cockiness in the way he carried himself.
“Thank you,” I said and then tossed the dice back down the table. The table erupted into cheers as I hit seven again.
“You’re good at craps,” he said as he moved a little closer.
“I've never played before. Beginner's luck?” I suggested.
He smiled a brilliant smile that put every woman in the casino on alert. “I find that hard to believe.”
He closed what had been left of the distance between us, and our arms now touched, sending a heat through my body I hadn’t experienced. By my third roll, we were standing close enough that having him right here was making me uncomfortable. Not uncomfortable in a bad sense, but in a way I hadn’t expected. A way I thought didn't exist.
“Have you played before?” I asked him.
“Sure, maybe I can give you a quick rundown on the game.”
I tried to pay attention to what he was saying as he explained the rules of craps. It wasn’t easy. Something about the way his mouth moved kept distracting me.
“Basically, you don't want to roll a two, three, or twelve when you first roll, but a seven is good. Then you just roll and try to hit the numbers here.” He pointed to the pass line. “If you continue to roll these numbers, then you keep playing, and by the look of the bets on eight, I assume that’s one that you like to roll,” he smirked as his hand brushed over mine.
“I have no clue what’s happening. I just roll until they take the dice away and hand them to the next person. I guess I’m a natural.” I laughed and reached down for my chips. “But I know how to quit while I’m ahead.”
There was an audible sound of dismay as I left the table. I made my way over to the bar and ordered another drink. He followed and took a seat on the barstool beside me.
“Ryder,” he stated as he put out his hand.
I placed mine in his, and the heat began once more.
“Zoey,” I responded with a smile. I took the drink the bartender placed in front of me and lifted it to my lips.
Ryder requested a beer which the bartender reached beneath the bar and produced immediately.
“So, Ryder. You here for work?” I asked.
“You could say that.” He reached for his beer and took a pull from the bottle.
I couldn’t get over how attractive the man was, but I tried not to let it show on my face.
“You?” he asked.
“I came with some friends to watch the fight tonight.”
His eyebrows raised a bit. “You’re a fan of MMA?”
“No. I can’t say I've ever been a fan of watching grown men pummel each other, but the energy is amazing.”
“It's an intense sport, for sure. I was there tonight, too,” he told me. “It was a crazy event.”
“Well, the second fight was over so quickly that I missed most of it.”
“You didn't see it?”
“No. I went to the bathroom, and when I came back, the fighters were both leaving the ring. I couldn’t even tell you who was fighting,” I joked. “My friend’s boyfriend said the guy who won the second fight was a monster. Apparently, he hasn't lost a fight and taking down the guy he beat was a major upset for the league.”
“You could say that,” he said with a grin. He looked into my eyes as though he were searching for my secrets. “So, tell me about Zoey.”
“There isn't much to tell. I grew up on the East Coast, I can never turn down a great cup of coffee. I love fashion and I want to make a career out of it.”
“Like runway model career?” he asked.
“No, nothing like that. I want to be a clothing designer. I prefer to be in the background.”
“A woman as beautiful as you shouldn't be in the background.”
“Well, if there is one thing I am not, it’s a runway model,” I laughed and reached for my glass again.
“I would much rather see a woman like you than those waifs they call women,” he muttered as he pressed his bottle to his lips.
“A woman like me?” I asked, probing a little deeper.
“Yes, a woman like you, a real woman. You are what every man dreams about.”
“Are you trying to get in my pants?” I laughed.
He didn’t laugh. Instead, a sly curve turned up one corner of his mouth. “We are always trying to get in women’s pants. If a man isn't, then something is wrong with him. Especially if he’s with a woman like you. Look, let me be clear here. I like you. You’re smart, ambitious, and beautiful. Maybe a little naive, but every man’s wet dream, seriously.”
“Wow, I don't think any man has ever said anything like that to me. And you got all of that from our short interaction?” I questioned.
“What can I say, I'm an intuitive guy. And I call it like I see it.” He reached for my hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on my fingers.
I just shook my head and let it slide. He was smooth, that much couldn’t be denied. We chatted for a while until I let out a loud and rather embarrassing yawn.
“Maybe you should get some sleep,” he suggested.
“But this is the town that never sleeps.” I moved my arm around, pointing to the small bar that was filling up.
He just chuckled at me as I rubbed my eyes. He said, “Can we have lunch tomorrow?”
“I think that could be arranged,” I said.
He reached over with a mischievous glint in his sexy blue eyes, took my cell phone from the bar top, put his number in, and sent himself a text.
“I'll text you in the morning with where to meet. I have a short meeting, so it will have to be after that.”
“Okay.” I practically swooned at him. I wasn't a swooner, but this man with his chiseled jaw and intense stare made me feel things I had never felt.
“Can I walk you to your room?” he asked.
“How about to the elevator,” I suggested.
“Gladly,” he said with a smile. Standing, he put his hand out to help me from my bar stool. He kept my small hand in his much larger one as we walked. The way he watched me as we walked together, talking, was a welcome change from most guys I’d met. His gaze never wavered from me, and I had to admit, it was a nice feeling.
When we reached the elevator, he reached over and pushed the up button for me, then stepped back and looked into my eyes.
“You are absolutely beautiful,” he said. “Thank you for spending tim
e with me tonight.”
“I enjoyed it.”
He leaned in and placed his lips gently against mine. It was a soft kiss, one I hadn't expected but welcomed all the same. I felt the heat of his hand travel down my back and settle just above my waist. He pulled me closer and deepened the kiss. I once heard that a kiss could make you feel weightless, but I had never experienced such a thing. When he pulled away, I felt the warmth that was surrounding me disappear. I was floating in that weightlessness I had heard about.
He brushed his lips over mine once more and then up my cheek and whispered in my ear. “Until tomorrow, beautiful Zoey.”
I stood there, not sure I could move, much less walk. The doors started to close, and he reached his muscled arm out and stopped them.
“Your chariot awaits,” he added with a half-smile that made me want to kiss him again. He held the door until I was standing inside and then stepped away. That crooked smile was the last thing I saw.
Chapter Five
Ryder
I was afraid of a woman for the first time in my life. It was a foreign feeling, and I wasn't exactly sure what to do with it. What I was sure of was that I wanted her, and tomorrow couldn’t possible arrive fast enough.
As if beating Tate in less than a minute wasn’t enough to make it a glorious day, I ended it with a kiss that had knocked me for a loop. Tate didn’t have anything on this girl. Hell, she hit me harder than any fighter had in years, and I didn’t even know her last name.
