Takedown (Fight Factory Book 1)

by Lea Hart

  Whoever was playing a game was going to find out that it didn’t work with clients represented by Excel Sports Management. They had cut their teeth on this scheme before. Maggie’s husband was almost taken down by inaccurate drug results, and everyone at the company knew how to deal with it. Rolling her neck around, she girded herself for what was coming.

  It was time to let go of the happy-smappy, lovey-dovey bubble she’d been in and pull on her big girl lawyer panties. There was ass to kick and she planned on doing it. Sliding her hand into her hair, she tightened her ponytail and began the first draft of her notes.

  By the time she had written five pages, she knew she had a decent outline of how she was going to attack this problem. Jeff had responded and told her they could do a small press conference from the media room at the UFC at one o’clock. He’d made arrangements and had their public relations person send out the call. The best thing they could do was get in front of the news and present their case. It was a well-proven strategy, and if they were lucky, they would beat any news that USADA planned to put out.

  The last person she needed to get in contact with was the UFC’s legal counsel. It was imperative they know the steps her company had taken to address the situation. She’d make it clear that both Bruce and Matt would be available at any time for additional testing. In fact, she should have them take a second test today and have the results sent to Los Angeles. It never hurt to have as many clean tests on file as possible.

  When she went through a checklist of items that needed to be accomplished before the press conference, she discovered that they were all done. Leaning back, she lifted her coffee cup and realized it was cold. The sound of the door opening let her know that Matt was back from his workout.

  He stepped into the room, took one look at her face, and frowned. “What the hell happened in the two hours I was gone?”

  Standing, she tightened the sash to her robe and gave him a small smile. “The good news is that we’ve handled it. The bad news is that your and Bruce’s drug tests came back as inconclusive.” She watched his shoulders relax as he walked toward her. “Why do you look so unconcerned?”

  “Because I know I’m clean. Whatever bullshit is happening is not going to mean anything in a couple of days. Bruce and I have nothing to worry about.”

  “Wow. That whole laid-back surfer thing you’ve got going on isn’t pretend. You really are chill.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a hug, which wasn’t what she’d expected.

  “Honey, I have amazing representation and it’s all going to be cleared up eventually.” He moved his hand around her waist and slid it inside her robe to capture her breast. “My girlfriend is really hot, sexy, and smart, so if this all becomes too much, I’m sure she’d be willing to help me relax.”

  As he slid his thumb back and forth across her nipple, she felt a tingle that echoed throughout her body. He was a bad man trying to distract her with his moves. When she felt his other hand open her robe and his hips press into hers, she knew he was a very bad man. Just the kind she’d been hoping for. “This is serious, Matt. I need to get in the shower and make sure that my notes are ready for the press conference.”

  “I have some notes for you.” In one motion, he had her robe off her body and his shorts and T-shirt on the floor. The next thing she knew, she was on her back with Matt covering her. “Now, you lie back and think of all the things you need to do today.”

  Opening her legs with both hands, he grinned. “I’m in the mood for some honey this morning.”

  She watched his head move down her body and then she felt the first swipe of his tongue. Everything after that was pure bliss. The man sure knew how to make sure she got her to-do list done.

  ***

  Bree sat across from Heath Calder, who was the new vice president of Athlete Health and Performance for the UFC, and shook her head. Jeff had just finished outlining the steps that they’d taken to clear up any questionable test results, and Heath appeared unimpressed. Doing her best to remain calm, she took a moment to straighten the papers in front of her. “Should we cut to the chase, Heath, or do you feel like dancing some more?”

  “Ms. Andrews, I assure you that the UFC is not interested in dancing. This is a serious matter and one we are not going to take lightly.”

  Raising her eyebrow, she waited a full minute before responding. “As do we. Which is why we took the precaution of having an additional test done for both athletes. It was taken at the same facility that the doping control officer from USADA had their tests done. We followed protocol and had the results couriered to Los Angeles to the WADA lab. We expect the test results to be made available on Tuesday at the latest.” Tipping her head, she studied the man. “This is not our first rodeo. We have been down this road before with other clients we represent. Please understand that we are willing to do whatever is necessary to clear our clients’ names regarding inconclusive test results. This partnership for the UFC and USADA is fairly new, so it’s our belief that the information that was provided to us earlier is merely a reflection of growing pains and not malintent from either party. No one needs to believe that either the UFC or USADA has not taken this process seriously.”

  She lifted her pen and tapped it against her notes. “One could almost wonder about the inconclusive results and the timing of contract negotiations with both fighters. I am aware of precedents in the courts that do not bode well for a person or company that would involve themselves in such a scheme. In fact, I recently won a case with similar circumstances and the results were in my client’s favor.”

  She watched the man sit back and cross his legs. When he stared at her without blinking, she did the same. As far as she was concerned, she could sit here all day and wait him out. No one had more patience than she did when it came to a case.

  Heath finally spoke. “UFC has a lot invested in this program and its legitimacy, and the last thing anyone needs is to have it called into question. Neither of the athletes has ever tested positive, and we have no reason to believe that would suddenly change.”

  “Both of my firm’s clients have made it clear that they have no objection to being tested as often as required. Might I suggest a second test within the next twenty-four hours so that we can begin to unravel this mystery and find out what happened?”

  “I will make a few calls. We don’t have a lot of say when and where athletes are tested, as the intent behind that was to have USADA run independently.”

  “Understood,” Jeff responded. “Both athletes have taken a second test today and we’ve had the results couriered to LA.”

  Rubbing his hand over his face, Heath sighed. “This is not what I wanted to happen the night of the MMA Awards. There is going to be a lot of press attention and we don’t want the integrity of our fighters and our organization to be called into question. We have a middleweight champion and the light heavyweight champion on display tonight and we want everyone to know that we have top-level clean athletes competing in this sport.”

  Bree leaned forward. “Our clients want the same thing. They are willing to do whatever is necessary to make sure that no one questions their ability.”

  “I don’t plan on making a statement about the results until we have the full report. Right now, all we have is a whole lot of nothing,” Heath replied.

  Jeff nodded. “We don’t have the same option. We need to get ahead of this and speak for our clients. Bree has a short statement prepared for the press conference at one.”

  “Can I take a look at it?” Heath asked.

  “Certainly.” Bree pulled out a copy and handed it to Heath. “The statement places no blame and expresses that our clients look forward to cooperating in whatever way that is required. We need to acknowledge the test results and say we are confident that the matter will be resolved.” Sitting back, she waited for Heath to read it. She knew he wouldn’t have a problem with it because there was enough ass-kissing to make sure everyone came out of it smelling like a rose
. It was wonderful to be right, but it did you no good if you rubbed it in everyone’s face.

  She checked her watch and realized they had about forty-five minutes before they were due downstairs in the press room. Both Matt and Bruce were going to meet them there and they expected the event to be short. There would be no question-and-answer session. They planned on getting in and out.

  Heath finished reading and placed the paper in his folder. “Looks fine.”

  Jeff stood and waited for Bree to join him. “We want this issue solved quickly for our clients, and don’t want it dragged out. Matt is going to be leaving for fight camp in two weeks and he doesn’t need this hanging over his head.”

  Standing, Heath picked up his things and nodded. “We have a ton of money invested in the event and the company wants it to be a success.”

  Bree stood and shook Heath’s hand. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with us. We look forward to resolving this matter.”

  Jeff and Bree walked out of the room toward the elevator and remained quiet. They needed to talk, but it was going to have to wait until they were back at the hotel.

  Bree had a gut feeling that the UFC wasn’t involved with the test results because they had too much to lose if the event wasn’t profitable. Why would they jeopardize the reigning champion’s next fight? That would just be bad business. Stepping onto the elevator, she wondered who had the most to gain by screwing with Bruce’s and Matt’s careers. Why Grayson’s face popped into her mind wasn’t a mystery.

  ***

  Bree sat with Matt and her brothers inside The Dorsey bar and admired the statues that sat in the middle of the table. Mama and Daddy had just called it a night and the kids were letting loose. At least, that’s how it felt to Bree. She was enjoying a drink that was called a Green Street. It was served in a ridiculous swan glass and had vodka, lime, cucumber, green apple, and mint. It was the perfect antidote to a hard but wonderful day. Bruce and Matt were drinking scotch like they were born to do it and Bryce nursed a beer. He’d never been much of a drinker and it made sense, considering his personality.

  Bree looked over at her sweet younger brother and blew him a kiss. When he rolled his eyes, she stuck out her tongue. Not much had changed since they were kids and she hoped it never would. Looking around the bar, she saw several women eyeing him up. He was a good-looking man, and his quiet warrior demeanor had caught several women’s attention. Not that he would ever acknowledge it. “When are you heading out again?”

  “We’ll probably get the call for wheels up by the end of next month. I’m assigned to a new platoon and we’ve been running drills for the last couple of weeks. My new CO is Frisco Jones and I have a ton of respect for him.”

  “Is that the one with dark blond hair and a killer smile?”

  “Yeah, that’s him.”

  Matt leaned over. “Should I be jealous?’

  Patting his leg, she shook her head. “No, we’re talking about Bryce’s new CO.”

  “Just making sure,” he responded. Taking her hand, he entwined their fingers. “I’m still disappointed that you didn’t walk the red carpet with me.”

  “Bad optics,” Bree replied. She lifted her swan and took a careful drink. “I stood up in front of the media as a tough lawyer and that’s the image that I want to stick. Not you and me canoodling on the red carpet. Thankfully, the press didn’t ask about me yesterday at your conference, so I’m going to fly under the radar for as long as I can.”

  “She has a point,” Bruce responded as he loosened his tie. “We need Bree to kick some ass and you having your hand on hers doesn’t help us.”

  Nodding, Bree lifted her hand to high-five her brother. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

  Bruce slapped her hand and laughed. “You are such a geek.”

  “Yeah, but I’m a smart, ruthless geek.”

  “Please don’t get up and dance,” Bryce groaned.

  “Please do,” Matt said. “This is something that I need to see.”

  “No, you don’t,” Bruce replied. “Trust me.”

  “It involves my sister shaking her hips with her hands over her head,” Bryce added. He shuddered and then drank his beer.

  Bree let her eyes roam over one brother and then the other. “Now I have to.” She started to stand and both brothers covered their eyes. “Fine. I’ll save it for fish camp.”

  “I’ll probably be deployed,” Bryce added. “I knew being in the Navy was going to work out.”

  “I might be busy too,” Bruce added.

  “You can dance for me all you want,” Matt said as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

  When he kissed her good and hard, she decided he was her favorite person. Hearing her brother curse, she pulled away from Matt. Looking up, she saw none other than Grayson Porter walking into the bar with a group of people. All three men stood with their feet apart and arms hanging loosely at their sides. “Don’t do anything,” Bree instructed from her seat.

  “Grayson?” Matt asked.

  “Yeah,” Bryce answered. “He’s not going to come over here. No way does he want a repeat of the last time we talked.”

  “Sit down,” Bree said. “He’s not here to talk to us. Let’s keep it that way.”

  Bruce sat down and then Bryce did and finally Matt joined them. “Let’s just enjoy our drinks and ignore him,” Bree said. “If he’s up to no good, then I’m going to find out. Victor is working up a report for me, so I’m going to know everything about him in a matter of days.”

  When her brothers exchanged glances, she knew whatever they’d discovered had been dreadful. The fact that they’d kept it to themselves was probably best at the time. There was only so much reality she could’ve handled and knowing Grayson’s confessions probably would’ve pitched her over the edge.

  That was no longer the case and her eyes were wide open. Studying Grayson and the group he was with made her wonder what she’d ever seen in him. He looked like a privileged preppy asshole who ate too many crab puffs. He sure had put on some weight in the last year. Tearing her eyes away, she glanced at Matt, who was deep in conversation with her brothers, and felt her heart tip over. He was not only a handsome man but a good one. Education, money, and family connections meant absolutely nothing if all they resulted in was a self-centered human being.

  Which made her wonder if she was selfish for being in a relationship with Matt. What if Grayson was using his new position to cause trouble? The last thing she wanted was to have her life negatively affect Matt’s. He had a big fight coming up and he didn’t need anything to interfere with it. Maybe she should step away until everything was sorted out. Taking his hand, she leaned her head against his shoulder.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Of course.” She caught Grayson’s eye from across the room and noticed the malevolence that filled his gaze. She understood his anger against her brothers. After all, they beat the crap out of him. But going after Matt didn’t make sense. Unless, of course, Grayson was just being a prick. Which seemed like the most likely answer.

  He could do his best to create problems but she wasn’t going to let it happen. No way.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Wednesday, March 8th

  Bree sat in her office and wondered how she’d ever gotten into Stanford. The information she’d received on Grayson made her believe that she was as dumb as a post. There had to have been signs along the way. Had she ignored them or simply not seen them?

  Leaning forward, she read the page that highlighted his gambling habit. Apparently, he’d been into high-stakes poker games for the last three years. His bank records indicated that he won big and lost big. The losses were the interesting part because they put him in the company of some interesting people. People who might kill you should they get the fancy.

  That was one bullet she’d dodged. The second one was his unusual sexual appetites. When they’d been together, they never had more than pleasant, boring sex. As far as she could
remember, the whole thing took less than fifteen minutes. If he was feeling frisky, he might last a full twenty-five.

  She slid her fingers over the keyboard and pulled up the page that gave highlights about his visits to sex parties. Tilting her head, she studied one photo that was included and wondered who designed the contraption that Grayson was handcuffed to. The iron detail at the top of the door or post was lovely. Zooming in, she decided it was a wide post.

  A lot of things clicked into place as she moved to the next page and read the employee review he received from the law firm he left last year. Apparently, he’d been fired due to a record of unusual and unexplained absences. She recognized the name of the firm and knew that new associates would be expected to work at least eighty hours. Grayson’s lifestyle probably didn’t mesh with that sort of constraint.

  Realizing how narrowly she’d missed the epic disaster their union would’ve been made her want to shout hallelujah from the rooftops. He’d done her the biggest favor of her life by calling their wedding off. It made her believe that somewhere deep inside he had a shred of decency. At least she hoped that’s what it was. Maybe it was simply self-preservation. He had to know that she wouldn’t have kept quiet about his habits when she discovered them.

  She picked up a pen and twirled it in her fingers as she thought about what she’d learned. Perhaps Grayson’s veiled threats were more about someone discovering his lifestyle and less about the grudge he held against her brothers. Right now, she had no way of answering that question and it pissed her off. If she knew what was motivating him, she could come up with a solution.