Blake: A Bad Boy Romance

by Day, Laura

  He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to spend this much time with Ivy before a fight. He needed to prepare his mental game, as well. He couldn’t be thinking about her while he was in the ring. But he did have an actual financial question and she was a financial expert. In truth, he had no one else to turn to.

  No, that was a lie. In truth he wanted to see her. After he sent Amy home he began to wonder why they couldn't be together. Because they might break up? What if they didn’t? And even if they did they could still be civil. There was no way a relationship between Blake and Ivy needed to end the relationship between their parents. But he wasn’t quite sure how he was going to convince Ivy.

  “Mr. Lambert,” the receptionist called over. “Ms. McCormick is free if you want to go straight back and to the left.”

  Blake nodded and smiled at the receptionist as he walked into the office and turned at a sign for Ivy McCormick’s office.

  “Holy crap!” He heard a male voice call from his left. “Are you Blake Lambert?” Blake turned and looked over at a tall looking guy hurrying over to her. “Man, your fight against Romero was amazing! Well worth the price!” The guy slapped Blake on the back and then pulled out his cellphone. “Mind if I get a snap of the two of us?”

  Before he knew it Blake was being pulled into a photo and smiling into the reverse lens. He was used to this kind of thing by now, but it was always strange when it happened in offices.

  “Tom, what are you doing?” Ivy demanded as she appeared in the doorway. “That is so unprofessional.”

  “Sorry,” Tom said. “But it was worth it. And I’m am putting money on you, Lambert. So you better win.”

  “I don’t plan to lose,” Blake answered.

  “Awesome,” Tom said and he raised his hand and Blake complied giving him a high five as Ivy shook her head in disapproval.

  “I’m so sorry about that,” Ivy said as she ushered Blake into her office.

  “No worries. I’m used to it,” Blake said as he sat down in a chair on the other side of her large desk.

  “How can I help you?” Ivy asked and, for a moment, he didn’t say anything. She was fiddling with everything on her desk moving Post-it notes and pens for no reason.

  “I got this offer and my accountant thinks it’s a good idea, but I’m still not sure about it. Would you look at it for me?” Blake asked.

  “Sure,” Ivy said, the surprise audible in her voice. Blake handed her a thin pile of paper and Ivy quickly began to scan through the pages. “It’s the financials for an endorsement deal.”

  “Yeah, they’re offering me the choice of stock options and a lower promotional fee, or no options and a higher fee for myself. But I don’t know if I’m ready to co-own a company. I don’t really care about the drink company.”

  “You won’t have any say in the running of the company,” Ivy explained. “You’ll be more like an investor and your initial investment is your cut in pay. Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah, but do I want to do that?” Blake asked. “Wouldn’t it be better to take the money up front?”

  “It depends on the company. Let’s check their five-year outlook.” Together she broke down the terms of the contract with Blake, explaining every line of it to him. But the one thing she couldn’t do was tell him which offer to take. They were both good; Blake was making decent amount of money and he was determined to be smart with it.

  “So, if I go with the stocks I could make more money later. But the company could go under and I could lose my investment. Or I could take all my money up front and not have to worry about it.”

  “That’s how it breaks down,” Ivy answered.

  “So which do I go with?”

  “It’s up to you,” Ivy said.

  “But what would you recommend?”

  “I would go with the stock. The company is doing well and looking to expand. But the decision is yours to make and you have lots of time to think about it.”

  “Thanks,” Blake answered taking the papers back. “It’s nice to know I have someone I can trust with stuff like this. I like my manager and my accountant, but I don’t trust them like I trust you.”

  “Sure, anytime.”

  “So, the fight is coming up. I can still get you tickets. It’s great, Ivy. It’s a real party. You might have fun.”

  “I don’t think so,” Ivy said with a shake of her head.

  Blake nodded and said nothing. He wanted her there. Didn’t she understand she had nothing to worry about? “Okay,” Blake said with a nod.

  He replayed that moment over and over in his mind in the days leading up to the fight. He trained hard, pumping weights, punching the bag, and jogging every morning. But he couldn’t stop thinking about that conversation. He should have pressed her more. He should have asked why she didn’t want to go. But all he could do was hear himself say okay and leave.

  He focused on not letting the crowd get to him. There were over one thousand people in the stadium. It was being aired on HBO and in countries all over the world. Vegas had two to one odds on Blake and he knew there was a lot of money in the air tonight. People would win or lose fortunes based on his actions in the cage.

  Paulie had come to town for the fight and he massaged Blake’s shoulders and poured water into his mouth until Blake heard his name announced over the speaker. Paul slapped him on the back and Blake made his way down the aisle, throngs of screaming fans on either side of him. Some of them were cheering for him, some for Johnson.

  Flashbulbs blinded him as he climbed into the cage and jumped up and down, testing the mats. He punched the air a few times and the crowd went wild. But it wasn’t for him. Johnson had entered from the other ring. He was wiry and he snarled as he walked towards the cage. The crowd loved that. Blake looked at his opponent as everything around him quieted and dimmed and the only thing he saw was Johnson.

  The crowd didn’t matter. The money didn’t matter. The cheers didn’t matter. The boos didn’t matter. Blake was here for one thing and one thing only. He was here to win. He would not lose. He would not quit. He was going to win this fight.

  Johnson entered the ring and the ref stood between them and blew his whistle and they waited for him to exit the cage. Johnson threw a quick hit at Blake, but Blake blocked it and jabbed back. But Johnson was ready for him. They were just testing each other now, searching for weaknesses trying to find a pattern of hits that would work.

  He heard a woman scream out, “I love you, Blake.”

  He blinked twice as he was driven back by Johnson’s drive. He pulled his hands up to protect his face as Johnson rained blows down. Finally, he took a break and Blake was ready with a kick to the head. He was ready for it, though, and leaned away, rolling over quickly and jumping back up to his feet.

  “I love you, Blake!” the woman screamed again. But then it wasn’t some stranger’s voice. It was Ivy’s. The memory hit him like a stack of bricks, Ivy whispering the words as Blake kissed her neck. He missed the hit from Johnson, landing right on the left side of his face and Blake stumbled back. He was zapped back into the moment; he was back at the fight. He was off balance and he was slipping back. He needed to stay upright or he was going to lose. He got his feet under him and blocked Johnson’s hits as best he could. But Johnson managed to connect a few more hits to Blake’s face and he felt a sharp cut form on his left cheek. His nerves were jangled and he gave an uppercut to Johnson, a hit to the stomach, and then a swift kick to his side. Blake kept hitting and punching and he didn’t stop until Johnson was on the ground.

  Blake stood heaving for breath as the world spun in front of him. The ref appeared and raised his hand and he heard the roar of the crowd. He was out of breath and shaking. He had almost lost the fight. Ivy was in his brain and he didn't know how he was going to get her out.

  Chapter Twelve

  All of her doors were locked and her windows were closed with the drapes pulled. Her alarm was set. No one was going to break into her apartment. But Ivy still
couldn’t relax. Watching the fight didn’t help. Her heart plummeted when Blake took the hit; she gasped and stood up and it felt like years passed in that second it took him to recover and then he was like a whirlwind as he launched himself at his opponent, unrelenting in his attack.

  She hadn’t realized he was so good. But he was light on his feet, and his punches were strong and fast. It was impressive to see him in the ring, even Ivy had to admit that. And now she had to admit that she wanted to see him. She was scared.

  Every noise in her apartment made her jump. A car door closing outside, the sounds of footsteps from her neighbors upstairs, every noise made her heart race. Was Darryl coming? What game was he playing? What did he want?

  Ivy had spoken to the police earlier in the day. She talked to Detective Diaz who was a tough cop who always took the time to talk and listen to Ivy. She added the info to Ivy’s file against Darryl and promised to follow up on it. But Ivy hadn’t heard anything yet. She was just hoping sending the cops was the right decision. She didn’t want to set Darryl off.

  Her phone rang and she gave a quick scream. She looked at the unknown number and hit decline. She paced up and down her small apartment, but could feel the walls closing in on her and every shadow was Darryl lurking in the corner.

  Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. Her bag was still packed from her time at her dad’s and she grabbed it and left her apartment. She gripped her mace tightly in her right hand and she checked the trunk and backseat before getting into her car and driving.

  She didn’t know where she wanted to go. She wanted to be with people. She didn’t want to be alone. She thought about going to a hotel, but the thought that there was only one door in and out of a room made her nervous. It would be too easy for Darryl to trap her in there if he wanted to.

  She had Blake’s address in her phone. She could easily pull it up and drive there. But she didn’t know what he was doing. What if he had a big party planned for after his fight? She didn’t want to be a burden to him. She didn’t want to ruin his victory celebration with her problems. But she had nowhere else to go.

  Ivy slammed her hand on the steering wheel. She hated this. She hated how easy it was for Darryl to do this to her. He didn’t even have a real reason to. She only dated him for three months two years ago; they hadn’t even been serious. But Darryl was furious when she ended things with him. He refused to believe this was actually happening. He had never been dumped before.

  She knew he had dated other women in the meantime, but he had never forgotten about Ivy. Letters, phone calls, emails, but those were just the start. Soon he would switch to strange and disturbing hand delivered gifts, like the card and the pictures she had recently received.

  Darryl had a rhythm to his harassment. It would start light: a blank card, a few pictures of Ivy out and about in the world all relatively harmless things. Then it would get worse: a jar full of roaches, a box full of earthworms and once a freshly skinned animal pelt. But eventually he would get tired of the sneaky gifts and then he would come for a visit. Three times in the last six months he had sent her gifts, but Ivy thought ahead. She knew he was coming and each time she had found reason to leave town. A conference for work, a trip with her dad, a short vacation with friends.

  She had to stop running. But there was nothing she could do. Most of Darryl’s actions weren’t illegal. It wasn’t against the law to leave strange gifts and she had never actually caught him doing it. He didn’t bring these things himself; he sent others to do his dirty work. Darryl was rich, very rich, and he used his money in the worst way possible.

  Her phone rang. Ivy didn’t recognize the number. But she was done running. She pulled her car into an empty parking lot and answered her phone.

  “Yes,” she said into the phone. She didn’t let her voice crack or shake. She forced herself to sound stronger than she felt.

  The sound of a high pitched child’s laugh filled the phone; it was loud and she pulled it away from her ear. In a few moments the voice changed from the laughter to the sound of a man’s heavy breathing. The breath was ragged and gasping, like he was running from something or maybe doing something else.

  “Yes?” Ivy asked again into the phone. She tried to make herself sound bored. She knew Darryl got off on her fear. He liked getting a reaction from her, liked to hear that tinge of fear in her voice. The heavy breathing continued and without another word or another second of waiting Ivy hung up the phone. And then she dialed Blake’s number.

  “Hi,” Blake said, he picked up after the first ring.

  “Hi,” Ivy said, trying desperately to control the hitch in her voice. She was on the edge of tears, just barely holding herself back.

  “Ivy, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  She should have known how foolish it was to try and hide something from Blake. He knew her better than she knew herself. “I saw your fight on TV, you won,” she said. “Congratulations.”

  “Ivy, where are you? Do you need me to come get you?” He didn’t even take a moment to think about himself. She admitted she had watched the fight, but he didn’t want to revel in his victory; he was thinking about her.

  “I...Can I come over?” Ivy said. She knew exactly where the words had come from. She had imagined going home to her empty and dark apartment. She would have turned on all the lights in the house. She would have the TV on full blast to drown out any scary noises. She would be lucky to get an hour’s worth of sleep. She didn’t want to go back there. She didn’t want to be alone.

  “Yes, you have my address, right?”

  “Yeah, but I thought you might be celebrating or something.”

  “No. I’m at the gym, but I’m done here. I’m five minutes from home. I’ll call the building manager and if you get there before me he can let you in. But I’ll be waiting for you in the lobby if I get there first.”

  Ivy wanted to cry from relief. Blake was saying exactly what she needed to hear. He was there for her, offering her a safe place where she could rest for the night. She drove straight to his apartment. Her phone rang three more times on the way, but she didn’t answer the unknown number. She pulled into the parking lot of her building and as she was stepping out of her car she saw Blake leave the lobby and hurry towards her.

  When he was close enough she forgot all about Darryl. The left side of his face was a dark purple color and it was swollen and painful looking. There was a cut on his left cheek and his nose was bruised.

  “You look awful,” Ivy said. The words were out before she had time to think about them.

  “Thanks,” Blake said. He took her bag from her and slid his arm around her lower back and guided her into the apartment.

  “I just mean your face looks really painful.”

  “The doctor gave me some painkillers. It looks worse than it feels.” He led her into the building.

  She was relieved to see that there was a swipe key needed to get into the building and to make the elevator go. Together they road the elevator to the sixteenth floor in silence. As it raced up the side of the building she noticed Blake’s hand was still resting on her lower back. She leaned into his embrace and he tightened his grip around her. It felt good to be here with him. It felt safe and for the first time all day, she let herself relax.

  Blake unlocked the door to his apartment and guided Ivy inside, locking it again behind them.

  Ivy looked around Blake’s apartment, impressed with how nice it was. There was a large kitchen to the left with brand new appliances that led to a large living room and dining room that had a stunning view of the Seattle skyline. It was modern and sleek and clean and Ivy felt safe.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ivy looked pale and shaken, like an animal that had just escaped a trap. Blake watched as she looked around the house and he could tell she was impressed. But at that moment he wasn’t worried about Ivy’s opinion on his house; he wanted to know why she was here. Something had spooked her, but she didn’t say what.

&nbs
p; “You want a drink or anything?” Blake asked as he dropped her bag next to his kitchen table.

  “A drink would be great, thanks,” Ivy said. She was standing near his wall looking at the pictures and newspaper articles his mother had professionally framed for him. They were testaments to his ability in the ring. He had won a lot of fights, enough to make him a champion. He was proud of the work he had done.

  “Whiskey? Although I don’t know if I have anything to mix it with.”

  “Whiskey’s great, thanks.”

  He poured two glasses and brought them to the living room. He sat down on the couch and set the two glasses down on the coffee table, inviting Ivy to come join him. She took one last look at an article from ESPN The Magazine before she sat next to him on the couch. They were a respectable amount of distance apart. They weren’t touching, but they easily could be.