Colt weighed his options and decided he’d try to make it out unnoticed. His dad disgusted him. Colt lived the life his father made for him. How fucked up was that? It took Colt years to realize his father hadn’t done all this just for him, but instead for himself. Larry Michaels lived the high life on Colt’s dime, and they had never gotten past the ass whoopin’ his father had given him in Johnny’s office all those years ago. His father controlled him by never letting him forget how easily he had kicked his ass that day.
A few years ago, Colt had finally grown some balls and fired his father as his manager. It took finding out his financial status had him somewhere close to flat broke, even after signing a multi-million dollar contract for the second time in his career. His father’s spending habits had Colt on the verge of bankruptcy. For the last two years, he tried hard to shake the old man loose, but he hung on like a leech, sucking the very life out of Colt.
There would definitely be restrictions on his old man after he got back from rehab. Thank God his mother hadn’t lived long enough to witness that dirty old man jacking off to a twenty-five-year-old whore. The moment somehow built Colt’s resolve. He was cleaning up his act, forever. He’d never allow himself to become like Larry Michaels.
Colt stayed close to the wall and moved slowly across the bedroom to avoid attracting attention; he made it to the hallway undetected, and breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped into the living room. Colt grabbed his phone off the table and placed it in his pocket. He did a quick check for his wallet and keys before heading toward the door. He’d wait for Dr. Knox at the man’s office. He couldn’t stand being anywhere near this place or those people. He didn’t want this life another minute longer.
Chapter 14
February 2013
Silently counting off to the beat of the music blaring overhead, Jace stood at the front of the spring floor mat, watching each stunt group lift their flyer into the air simultaneously. Frustration narrowed his brow. This was his cream of the crop coed team, reigning world champions for four years in a row, national champions for even longer. The ones every other cheerleading gym in the world aspired to beat. And for some reason, they couldn’t hold their stunts five days before Nationals. Not good.
Jace let the young coaching staff continue to count out loud and the cheerleaders continue in their routine for about thirty seconds longer, then he lifted his eyes to the sound room above. At his cue, the music came to an abrupt end and so did the cheerleading routine. Silence filled the large gym, and everyone turned their gaze toward him, waiting for Jace to speak.
“NCA Nationals is in five days; therefore, it’s going to be a long night ladies and gentlemen. Take five and call your parents. We aren’t leaving until we get it right!” Jace called out from the edge of the mat. He continued to stand rooted to the spot with his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest and his feet spread apart. When he heard the mumbled protest from some outspoken members of the team, he looked up, daring them to test his patience any further. He watched the cheerleaders for several seconds, contemplating his options. The young coaches for this team came to stand in front of him.
“We’ll get it. I promise.” One coach started to speak, but Jace lifted his hand to stop the flow of excuses.
“I want Tina, the front flyer, moved to the back. I want Autumn moved to center. Collin is no longer the point for the triple toe back. Move Robert there, instead. Nikki and Laureen need to swap places. I think if they switch positions it may help in some of the chaos running back and forth, also in some of the attitude I’m seeing while they’re performing. I also want Ally and Amanda’s group to show the team what a switch kick double basket toss should look like. Work them for about an hour more and then let them go. I’ll take their class tomorrow night myself.” Jace never paused for a response, but turned to the next team standing to the side, waiting to take center mat. With a motion of his hand, they moved forward to take their position.
While the new team took their spot on the floor, Jace looked around his gym. He moved his teams into this building a couple of months ago, and he was proud of this new facility. It still needed work, there was always room for improvement, but he ran six hundred ninety cheerleaders through here every week. Never turning anyone away, yet still winning something in every competition for the past ten years. The trophies were three rows deep and had been placed on shelves running around the top of the thirty thousand square foot building after the gym ran out of room in the trophy cases. Championship banners lined the walls and hung from every beam in the huge facility.
All six hundred ninety cheerleaders were in the gym today, watching this showcase. It was a mandatory practice. They sat and stood in every available space, either waiting for their team to perform, or once finished, there for moral support.
The team he had just called to the mat was his junior prep team, level six, the highest level achievable in cheerleading. They were his top junior team. The other nine junior teams in his gym sat in order behind him, quietly waiting for their turn on the mat. The transition took no more than three minutes, and the girls stood in position, ready and waiting. Their coaches looked nervous. Good. He lifted his eyes to the sound room once again.
The music blared overhead, signaling the girls to begin their routine. The coaches counted loudly, trying to help keep everyone synchronized. After they nailed the first round of stunts, the entire gym burst out cheering the girls on. They were nearly flawless all the way through. Jace stood there watching in the same manner he’d observed his elite senior team before. Watching closely for the mistakes and catching them just as the judges would this weekend.
Haley placed her hand on his shoulder and leaned in from behind. His five foot two inch tall assistant lifted on her tiptoes, still only hitting about his shoulders, requiring him to bend his head slightly to the side as she whispered in his ear. “ESPN’s here. They’re setting up in your office. The video cameraman’s over in the corner. He looks like a dad. The reporter’s standing directly behind you in the viewing window of your office.” Jace kept his eyes trained on the routine in front of him and only straightened his head, not giving any other indication that he’d heard Haley.
Jace continued to stand in the exact same position as before, brawny arms crossed over an expansive chest, for several moments after the team finished their routine. The music ended, plunging the gym into silent hopeful tension. The girls stood, trying to catch their breath, obviously excited they’d nailed their three minutes of fast-moving tumbling, dancing, and stunting. But they needed to hear from Jace before they gave in to the excitement.
Jace just stood there, thinking over what he saw wrong. This team was close to perfect, or as close to perfect as they could get. They had been together since they were all about five years old. Now, at twelve, they were a well-oiled machine. Finally, Jace gave them a nod and a smile. The coaches and girls started jumping up and down, screaming, running over to him. His bad, mean reputation fell short with this group of girls clinging all over him.
“Just because I nodded doesn’t mean you don’t continue to work the rest of the week. It needs to be perfect. Alesha, your counts were off on the triple toe back. Kennedy, your double needs tighter rotation. And for God’s sake, keep it clean. Point those toes. No bobbles and I saw some. You know who you are.” The girls listened, hugging each other, and him, while the cameras captured the entire moment.
So much for trying to be a hard ass. Jace wedged his way from the group of excited giggling girls.
“Haley, watch the next team. I’ll be in my office,” Jace said, and for the first time, looked toward the window where the reporter stood. He gave a single nod of his head, lifting one finger, asking for an extra minute. She nodded back, smiling.
“Yes, sir! Ladies, next team on the mat please, pronto,” Haley called out, but Jace didn’t listen any further. He made his way through a back side door, which led to his personal office space and the full bathroom that lay strategically hidde
n behind his office. The reporter waited just on the other side of the bathroom door. The music would drown out any noise he might make. He figured the reporter would still be standing at the floor to ceiling windows of his office, mesmerized by the teams’ practice session. Whether flying through the air or tumbling across the floor, his teams were some of the best in the world. They worked hard and it showed.
Standing at the simple sink, Jace washed his hands and splashed water on his face. The week before Nationals always meant longer hours. He felt the fatigue already beginning to set in and wished for a strong cup of coffee right about now. With a sweep of his eyes, Jace checked his appearance in the small mirror. He removed the small leather strap holding his short ponytail back. His hair stylist trimmed his chin length hair a little too short this time, causing some front pieces to escape the band and fall to his face. The summer blond streaks he asked her to add made him look more naturally blond than the light brown his hair had become as he’d aged, and the tanning bed turned his normally fair skin into a golden brown. Jace hoped he appeared a little healthier looking for the camera.
ESPN co-sponsored this year’s National Cheerleaders Association’s Competition. His gym was being spotlighted for some of the breakout sessions, giving the station something to run during the down times of the competition. Jace usually didn’t go to these extremes to look good, but this week he needed to represent as best he could.
He took a step back from the sink, looking over his clothing. Jace pulled at the clinging, tight fabric of his gym shorts. His thighs were thick from years of tumbling and lifting girls in the air, and the material clung to his legs, making his muscular thighs look massive. The fabric stretched as he pulled a little free room in the material. The double XL company logo T-shirt he wore stretched tightly over his upper chest and arms. He pulled on that material too, trying to gain a little extra room before tucking the shirt into his shorts.
At the last minute, he decided to let his hair hang loose, running a brush through the strands before tucking it behind his ears. Then he smiled, looking into his own green eyes, before lowering his gaze, making sure nothing from dinner had been left behind in his teeth. Giving himself one last look in the mirror, he decided he looked as good as he could and left the bathroom, walking directly into his office.
“Hello, I’m Jace Montgomery,” he said immediately to the two women standing together. The makeup artist came straight to him, ignoring his outstretched hand. Instead, she began to examine his face before ushering him to his chair.
“Hi, Jace, I’m Sandra Hamilton. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I feel like I know you already with the amount of time we’ve spent together on the phone.” Sandra stuck out her hand, shaking Jace’s in quick, aggressive motions. “This is Candy, our makeup designer. She’s a bit no-nonsense as you might be able to see.” Candy smiled at him.
“I don’t need to do much. You’re extraordinarily handsome. Your skin tone’s perfect as it is. Let me just get the eyes a little more pronounced. Have you ever modeled before?” Candy started right in, aiming her makeup brushes at his face. She worked quickly and efficiently, never taking her eyes from her work.
“No, I haven’t,” Jace said quietly, trying not to move his facial features as she worked on him. He hoped she hadn’t notice the blush creeping up his cheeks. He wasn’t shy by any means, but Jace hated being on the receiving end of compliments about his looks. It made him feel a little awkward, never really sure what he was supposed to say. On the other hand, someone could compliment him on the gym or cheer teams all day long; those were easier to respond to because of the hard work and dedication it took from all involved. And he was extremely proud of all the time and effort his kids and coaching staff put in at the gym. All of that diligent work was exactly the reason he was sitting in a chair blushing while chatty Candy fussed over his makeup.
“You should. The camera’s gonna love you!” Candy stepped back, examining him again before having him sit up straighter in the chair and adjusting his clothing. “Here, lift this sleeve up a little. Yes, perfect. It shows your bulked-up arms, and let’s pull the shirt back some. Yes, perfect, it outlines your chest, defines you more. Your legs look great. Just make sure you keep your foot on the bar of the chair. It keeps your leg muscles flexed.”
The whirlwind of directions slowed and Candy finally stepped back. The producer and cameraman were now in the office, setting up the camera while the producer began talking over their game plan for the interview. There would be a fifteen minute interview leading into a tour of the building showing some of the trophies and awards received. Jace had redecorated his office specifically for this interview. They sat in director style chairs in front of the large floor to ceiling window with a view of the teams behind them as they continued to perform. Sandra took her chair, and Candy now gave her the touch-up she insisted she needed before the cameras started.
“We have coffee mugs here full of water. If your mouth gets dry, just take a drink and keep going.” Jace glanced toward the deep voice and gave a nod to the young male producer while he pinned a microphone to his collar. On the producer’s order, all the activity came to a sudden halt and the reporter started the interview. And just like every single time, Jace’s stomach filled with butterflies and his palms grew clammy. He never got used to being on television or doing these interviews, but the exposure was great for the gym. After the interviews ran, he always had an influx of new members. He tried to recall all the instructions given to him earlier and prayed he didn’t say the wrong things. Taking a deep breath, he sat up straight, making sure his foot was on the bar of the chair and his muscles were flexed, just the way Candy had instructed him.
“I’m Sandra Hamilton, here today with Jace Montgomery, owner operator of Cheer Dynasty in Dallas, Texas. Many in the world of cheerleading credit Jace Montgomery for creating the phenomenon known as all-star cheerleading. His top senior team is the reigning, unprecedented four-year champion in the Worlds division. His gym is the largest in the world, competing with twenty-four teams this year, here in Dallas, at the national cheerleading competition. Jace, I’m going to jump right in. I’ve spent most of the evening talking with your team members. They just love you. Both the children and their parents adore you. How do you accomplish this level of rapport in such a strictly disciplined environment?” The cameras swept around them during the introduction until they finally moved in on Sandra and then over to Jace.
“Sometimes they like me, when I say the things they like to hear. The team before the one you watched wasn’t quite so happy with me. They might not have such glowing words right now.” Sandra gave a chuckle while Jace just smiled. She didn’t pause before asking her next question.
“So you have earned your reputation?”
“I don’t know. What’s my reputation?” The question was somewhat of a lie. Jace knew how the cheerleading community thought of him. He worked hard to come off as a big jerk most of the time. He learned early on that his easy-going, light-hearted attitude toward life would be run over in the real world of business. A few well-placed hard stares and moments of silence had the cheerleading world considering him a serious business man, intent on making a name for himself.
“Well, I’ve heard your competitors call you a hard-nosed business man who’s just in it for the money. Your coaches call you a tough workaholic who never stops pushing. Your cheerleaders call you brilliant, and the industry as a whole says you have single-handedly changed cheerleading into a world-wide revolution. You’ve created athletes out of this sport.”
Jace stayed quiet, just looking at the reporter. He didn’t feel like any of that described him at all. Okay, maybe the workaholic described him the best. He did work all the time, mainly to avoid the other parts of his life. He decided he wasn’t really sure where the question lay in what the reporter asked. Jace just stared at her, giving a little smile before saying, “I’m sorry. I don’t really understand your question.”
The reporter
’s eyes met his, and she gave a small giggle before leaning in toward him, her body language visually changing. After a brief pause, she closed her eyes and shook her head. “I have also been told, over and over, what a charming, nice-looking man you are. I see it and can easily say throughout our conversations over the last few weeks, I believe your reputation has been very well earned on every level. Let’s move this forward, tell me about a day in the life of Jace Montgomery. Is it true you’re a vegetarian?”
“Yes, absolutely. I’m a complete vegan.”
“Why did you become a vegan?”
“I did it several years ago. I liked the health effects. The gym was taking off. I was tired all the time. I needed to make some changes."
“And you work out every day. You still tumble and keep up your skill level?” As the reporter spoke, the camera focused on Jace. He was still incredibly nervous, trying hard to hide his sweaty palms and shaking knees, but he kept the smile on his face and hoped no one would be the wiser. He had been watching the reporter, keeping her as his anchor in his sea of nerves when she looked down over his chest and lower to his stomach and then lower to his lap. It caused heat to rush to his cheeks and those anxious nerves to skyrocket under her scrutiny.
What? Did she just check me out? The little smile she gave made him stumble just a little in answering this question.
“I think it’s only fair that if I’m asking my kids to be their best, I need to be at my very best as well. I certainly can’t ask anyone to do something I can’t do myself.” The reporter’s eyes stayed settled on his lap while he answered, and her smile grew a little broader before she lifted her gaze to meet his. Seconds later the camera turned back to her. Did that mean they didn’t catch her checking him out? He prayed so. Parents wouldn’t trust their children with him if they thought he put this kind of thing in front of them.
Nice Guys Collection With Added Bonus Material Page 11
