Fighting for Love

by L. P. Dover

  “What?” Jace exclaimed, turning to me quickly. “Did I miss something? Since when did you meet someone?”

  “Well, try not to sound too shocked,” I teased with a roll of my eyes. “It was two days ago at the after party. You know the party you couldn’t be my date to because you were busy. Anyway, Lexi’s sister brought one of her friends, and we kind of hit it off. He was the one who hung out with me at the beach yesterday.”

  Jace put the dirty dishes in the sink before bringing our plates with the omelets over to the table. He set mine down in front of me and took the seat to my right. “That’s awesome news, Shels. I’m glad you’re finally deciding to date again. You haven’t slept with this guy, have you?”

  “No,” I blurted out incredulously. “I don’t want to move that fast, Jace. In a way I want to just because it’s been so damn long since I’ve been with someone, but I’m smart enough to know I shouldn’t.”

  Jace nodded in agreement. “I think that’s a good decision. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  Neither did I.

  My phone was charging on the kitchen counter, and since I’d had it off all yesterday afternoon I figured it was time I turned it back on and face the thousands of messages I was sure to have. The second I turned my phone on, before I could even take a sip of my juice, it started beeping … over and over.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” I exclaimed. “I knew it was a mistake to turn it off.”

  Trying to hide his smirk, Jace shook his head and finished up his omelet. “I guess you’ll be busy today,” he teased.

  Groaning, I pushed my phone aside and mumbled, “Yeah.”

  As I started in on my breakfast, I thought, Maybe I’ll wait a little bit longer to listen to my messages. It was the first week in June and every month I was given an assignment for the ten page spread. I was pretty sure most of my messages were from my boss giving me the heads up on who I was to spend my next month researching.

  After finishing my omelet, I drank the rest of my juice and put my plate and glass in the sink. Jace was still at the table finishing up and flipping through a Maxim magazine when I asked, “So, Jace, how did the audition go yesterday? Do you think you did okay?”

  Nonchalantly, he shrugged his shoulders and kept his gaze on the magazine. “Yeah, I think I did pretty well. I’ll find out next week if I made it.”

  “That’s great—” I began, but my sentence was cut off by my phone ringing … again. Jace reached for my phone on the table and tossed it to me from across the room. Catching it midair, I glanced down to see that it was Bryan, my boss.

  “No surprise there,” I mumbled to myself before answering it.

  “Good morning, Bryan,” I greeted him.

  Bryan Winters was pretty laid back, but he only allowed certain people in the office to call him by his first name and I happened to be one of them. He was a workaholic in his late fifties with salt and pepper hair, and in extremely good physical shape for his age. In his youth he used to be a professional tennis player, and when I told him I used to play for my high school team he made it mandatory that I play the game with him at least once a week. It was always a good time and I enjoyed it. Not to mention, he made sure I stayed on the clock when I played even though I told him it was fun … not work. He insisted, and with the unyielding Bryan Winters you could never reason with him when he had his mind set.

  “Good morning to you, too, Shelby,” Bryan responded warmly. “I called you a few times yesterday, but you never answered my calls. Did you check your messages or emails?”

  Sheepishly, I sat down at the bar, and in a quiet voice said, “No, actually I didn’t. I had my phone off since you told me to take the day off.”

  The line went quiet, but then Bryan whistled and burst out laughing. “Well, well, I thought I’d never see the day that you actually put work aside to take a day off. Good for you, young lady. So listen, as you know it’s time for the new spread for our July edition. The reason I called was because your athlete’s agent wanted to meet over lunch today. I wanted to give you his number so you could call and set up a time. I know it’s kind of last minute, but he insisted.”

  “Oh yes, of course,” I answered quickly, rushing to the junk drawer. It had everything in it like pens, take-out menus, matches, and mints that restaurants would give you with the check. I grabbed the first pen and piece of paper I could find. “Okay, I found a pen. I’m ready when you are.”

  “All right, his name is Garrett Wells and his number is …”

  As he said the number, I wrote it down—along with the agent’s name—on the old grocery list I had happened to grab out of the drawer. Hmm … Garrett Wells. That name sounded awfully familiar for some reason.

  “Bryan,” I started curiously, “who is it that I’m going to be writing about?”

  His phone began to break up and all I heard through the static was the sound of his jumbled words and his deep laugh. “Bryan, can you hear me? You’re breaking up on me,” I exclaimed into the phone. Unable to figure out what he was saying, I hung up and rushed over to Jace to tell him good-bye before I was late.

  Wrapping my arms around his neck from behind, I kissed him on the cheek and squeezed. “I’ve got to go. Have a good day and don’t get into any trouble. I’ll see you tonight.”

  Patting my hands, he turned his head and kissed me back on the cheek. “Me get into trouble … never,” he countered sarcastically with a twinkle in his eyes.

  Snickering, I ruffled my hand through his hair before grabbing my keys and purse, and headed out the front door. It was a cool, breezy morning; the sun was hidden by a thick sheen of clouds, making the smell of the bay more pronounced. Almost a complete opposite of yesterday when I spent the day at the beach. As soon as I got into my black Infiniti Q60 convertible, my phone buzzed with an incoming text.

  Lexi: I heard we’re all going on a date Sunday. Caleb called Hayley and Josh and asked if we all wanted to go out.

  Me: You heard right :)

  Lexi: I’m glad to hear it. So the beach was fun?

  Me: YES! It was fun. I have to drive now. Talk to you soon.

  Heading down the road toward my office in downtown, I decided to go ahead and call the number Bryan gave me for the agent.

  On the second ring, he picked up. “Garrett Wells,” he answered.

  “Hello, Mr. Wells. I’m Paige Monroe with Physique Sports and Fitness Magazine. How are you today?” I asked eloquently.

  “I’m doing great, actually, and please call me Garrett,” he replied with a chuckle.

  “Very well then, Garrett, and the same goes for my name as well. Anyway, Bryan told me you wanted to meet over lunch today. Is that still something you’d like to do?”

  “Yes, of course,” he replied. “My client and I are looking forward to working with you. I know your office is in San Francisco, and since I’m only about thirty minutes away from there I’ll just come to you. Is there a special place you’d like to meet? Because if not we can meet at the Presidio Café. I’m a club member out there, and if I call them they’ll set us up a private table.”

  Lexi and I had gone to the Presidio Café several times over the past couple of years. It was a great place to eat lunch and nothing could beat their clam chowder; I ordered it every time I went.

  “That sounds great, Garrett. It’s actually one of my favorite places. What time would you like to meet?”

  “Uh … let’s see. Is noon okay? That should give me enough time to call them, hunt down my client, and make it out that way,” he recommended. “Oh, and if you get there early just go on in and tell them that you’re meeting me. They’ll seat you right away.”

  “All right, noon it is,” I complied excitedly. “I’ll see you then.”

  We said our good-byes and I hung up the phone. Doing the spreads for the magazine was something I always looked forward to. It gave me the chance to meet some really great athletes and to see how their minds worked. Other than the writing part it wa
s the best thing about my job.

  I ARRIVED AT THE PRESIDIO Café fifteen minutes early. As soon as I went inside, I immediately recognized the petite, redheaded hostess at the desk. Her name was Laura and she was always there when Lexi and I came for lunch. It had been a couple of months since I’d been there, but I could tell she recognized me by the smile on her face.

  “Long time no see,” she said warmly. “Are you meeting someone for lunch?”

  Smiling, I strolled up to the desk. “Actually, I am. I’m here to meet Garrett Wells. I’m not sure if he’s here or not.”

  “Oh, he’s here,” she said, grinning widely. “It’s kind of hard to miss him when he’s in a room. Anyway, shall I show you to your table? He hasn’t been here that long.”

  “Lead the way,” I told her with a flourish of my arm.

  The Presidio Café was a huge open room of casually elegant tables, as well as an immaculate terrace where you could eat and enjoy the view of the golf course the café rested upon. However, most of the patrons were inside since it was a cloudy and dreary kind of day. Laura led me past the tables in the center of the room over to a corner by the fireplace where a single round table sat.

  The man, who I assumed was Garrett Wells, watched me approach with an appreciative smile on his face. He was definitely a good looking man, dressed in his expensive gray suit, and from the vibe I felt coming off of him he knew it, too. With perfectly gelled golden-blond hair, a face as refined as his, and striking blue eyes, how could he not be?

  He stood before I reached the table and held out his hand in greeting. “Paige Monroe?” he asked to confirm.

  With a smile on my face, I shook his hand and nodded. “Yes, but you can call me Shelby. Paige Monroe is the name I write under. I assume you’re Garrett Wells?” I countered.

  He let my hand go and pulled out a seat from the table for me. “That’s me. Would you like to sit down?” he offered.

  Nodding, I took the seat he offered and placed my bag under the table by my feet. He sat down in the chair to my left, never taking his eyes off of me. “I have to say, you completely blew me away when I saw you walk in. It’s not every day you meet a woman with beauty and brains.”

  Yeah, I’ll bet, I thought to myself.

  He didn’t seem like the type to go for the women with brains. “Thank you for the compliment, Garrett. I happen to know many women who are beautiful with brains. You must not be meeting the right ones,” I teased, picking up the glass of water in front of me.

  “Obviously,” he remarked, his lips tilting up in a devilish smirk.

  Taking a sip of the water, I scanned the restaurant before settling my gaze back on him. “Will we be expecting anyone else? Or did you want to go ahead and get started on the planning? I’d like to know your schedule so I can figure out when and where I need to be, and what I need to do to get the perfect story. I’ll have to run the schedule by my photographer, as well. That way, she can join me and take the pictures.”

  “Oh, of course,” he agreed. “And yes, my client should be here soon. He wasn’t far behind me when he called to say he was on his way.” Garrett pulled out a briefcase from under the table and removed a file he had stashed inside. Handing it to me, he said, “This is all the information on where we will be for the next month. I know Mr. Winters said he also wanted to cover the Golden State Tour, so I have the fight schedule in here as well, in case you want to attend. I’ll make sure you have front row seats to all of them.”

  The moment he said Golden State Tour my heart completely stalled in my chest and I could feel my face paling with each passing second. With my head tilted down, I opened the file and stared at it in a frozen stupor. I knew what the Golden State Tour was, and now I knew why Garrett’s name sounded so awfully familiar.

  How can this be happening? I wanted to scream. Please, tell me it isn’t so.

  The pounding of my heart grew louder and a sheen of sweat started to form above my brow. Shifting in my chair, I gazed down at the opened file … and right there in front of me was the solid proof staring me in the face.

  Matt Reynolds.

  It was his practice and fighting schedule, along with photo shoots and various promotional events he had to attend. I already knew his fighting schedule because I’d kept up with how he was doing ever since I left him. Yes, it was kind of lame that I followed his every move, but I couldn’t seem to let go. I was so proud of him when he landed his first fight, and then his second, and so forth. Eventually, his name started to spread and I watched him achieve something I knew he’d worked so hard to accomplish. I knew he had a passion for wrestling and boxing, but I never thought he would go as far as to join MMA fighting. He started all of that up after I left him.

  There were a lot of things he began after I left him. I went to almost all of his fights until it got to the point where I couldn’t handle it anymore. It wasn’t the fighting that made me sick to the core, but the countless women I’d see going in and out of his room afterwards. He was known as the ultimate UFC bad boy, the one the ladies loved to tangle and grapple beneath the sheets with … and that was meant to be taken literally. Matt wasn’t the same guy I knew before.

  Being a strong willed person was one of my virtues, and I’d handled many hard tasks in my lifetime. However, spending a month with Matt and following him around to get his story was something I didn’t think I could do. Fighting back the tears, I swallowed hard and shut the file slowly, trying my best to hide the tension and keep the bile from rising in my throat.

  Holy shit, I feel like I’m going to hyperventilate. Garrett had said Matt was on his way, and if he was almost to the restaurant I needed to get the hell out of there.

  “Shelby, are you all right? You’re looking a little pale over there,” Garrett asked, concern clear in his voice. Peering up at him, I brushed him off with a wave of my hand and tried my best to smile.

  “Oh yeah,” I breathed, trying desperately to keep my hands from shaking. “I haven’t eaten today, so I think my blood sugar might be a little low.” I hesitated for a second, wondering if I should just say I wasn’t feeling good and leave. Deep down, however, there was a part of me that wanted desperately to see Matt again.

  Then what? I asked myself. Is he going to smile and say he missed you over the years? You also just started seeing someone!

  Okay, so that’s not going to happen. My mind was made up and I chose the coward’s way out. Grabbing my purse from under the table, I immediately stood up and smiled apologetically at Garrett. “I’m sorry, but will you excuse me for just a minute? I’ll be right back.”

  Garrett stood and nodded his head. “Yes, of course. Hopefully, Matt will be here by the time you get back.”

  I’m not coming back, I wanted to say, but I needed time to think about what I was going to do and how I could get out of writing the article. As fast as I could go, and still look like I wasn’t running for the hills, I rushed to the bathroom and flew into one of the stalls. Tears poured down my cheeks, and it felt like my throat was closing up on me, choking me while my heart ached as if a thousand knives were jabbing into it.

  There’s no way I have the strength to see him now. I’m not prepared. I never planned on seeing him face to face ever again. If I did, how would he react? Would he still be angry with me even though it was ten years ago and he’d obviously moved on … many times? Would my feelings for him come roaring back if he touched me like I was afraid they would?

  It doesn’t matter. I’m not staying and I’m not doing the article on him. End of story.

  Wrapping a heap of toilet paper in my hand, I used it to dab under my eyes and wipe the tears and mascara away. No one was in the bathroom, so I left the stall and checked myself in the mirror to make sure I looked presentable. I didn’t want Laura or anyone else at the front to see me running out of the bathroom with tears streaming down my face. As soon as I made it out of the restaurant and into my car, I was going to call Bryan and tell him he needed to find someone else
to do the spread. If I had to explain to him what happened with Matt ten years ago that was fine with me. I would do anything to get out of writing the article.

  Taking a deep breath, I calmly opened the bathroom door and started straight for the exit. I was almost there when I heard my name being called behind me, “Shelby, are you going to be all right? Where are you going?”

  I must’ve taken too long in the bathroom because Garrett was right there.

  Still walking toward the door, I fetched my cell phone out of my purse and glanced at him over my shoulder. Waving my phone in the air, I responded with the first thing that came to my mind, “I missed a call from Bryan and I didn’t want to be rude. He hates it when I don’t return his calls right away.”

  As soon as I got outside he was definitely getting a phone call from me. However, the second I turned my gaze back to the door I ran straight into what felt like a brick wall. Thwack. Before I could stumble and fall, a large set of hands grabbed me by the arms, steadying me, and I grabbed onto his shirt so I wouldn’t fall.

  “Whoa, thank you. That wouldn’t have been good,” I chuckled, feeling embarrassed. My cheeks burned and I was pretty sure my face had turned blood red.

  The hands on my arms tensed – clenching tighter – and after that it was like everything moved in slow motion. My eyes found his broad chest where my hands gradually loosened their hold on the black T-shirt he wore, but I couldn’t seem to fully pry my hands away. Slowly, my gaze slipped up to his firm jaw that tensed and clenched when I settled on his lips.

  I recognized those full lips, especially the way they felt against mine many years ago.

  It wasn’t until I reached his sea green eyes that everything came crashing down. I couldn’t speak and I couldn’t move; I was frozen. All I could do was stand there with his hands on my arms and my body flush with his. His lips were set in a firm line, and for a moment, I saw something flash in his eyes that made my heart jump … it was longing. Except it only lasted for a second before his whole demeanor closed up tight and he shut me out.