by Maris Black
I smiled. “This is so un-fucking-believable. I can’t wait to take a million pictures of you. If this thing does what he says it does, we’ll be able to see every drop of sweat on your body.”
“Wow.” The camera guy took an exaggerated breath. “I’ve just got to tell you, this is a really nice piece of equipment. You are a really amazing guy, and you obviously care a lot about him. Everyone should be so lucky.”
“Yeah? You think?” Kage gave me an amused look, then got up out of the chair and joined me on the sofa. He took the camera from me and examined it for a few seconds. “Pretty nice,” he said.
The camera guy smiled like we were two puppies playing in a cardboard box rather than a couple of jocks on a couch. “Call me if you guys need anything, okay?” Then he left.
As soon as he was out the door, Kage set the camera down on the coffee table and leaned back onto the opposite arm of the sofa, clasping his hands behind his head. “So… why does that guy think we’re fucking?” He didn’t look angry, only extremely amused.
I felt my cheeks flush bright red. “How should I know?”
“Oh, you know alright.” He bit his lip on a cocky smile, which clued me in to the fact that he was enjoying yanking my chain. “What did you say to him? I mean besides that you’d like to take a million pictures of my hot, sweaty body?”
“Hey, you know what I meant!”
He laughed. “I do. But he obviously didn’t.”
I took a deep breath. “I may have also mentioned that you were an amazing guy.”
Kage nodded, waiting for me to continue.
“And that you were spoiling me silly. And…” I covered my face and groaned. “And that I dreaded going back to my old life at school.”
“Well, I guess that sounds vaguely suggestive.”
“That was after he asked if I had a sugar mama.” I started laughing then. “I didn’t think about how it sounded. Just started going on about this amazing guy. God, what an idiot I am. I was just excited about the camera.”
Kage had one leg bent up on the sofa, and he nudged my thigh with the toe of his sneaker. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I know it’s not a gift, that it’s just something for me to use while I’m working for you, but it’s still great. Most people wouldn’t even get to borrow something this nice. I promise I’ll take good care of it.”
“Well, I had actually meant it as sort of a work-related gift. You’ve got a birthday coming up, and what better gift than one I can write off as a business expense.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “Are you serious? I get to keep it?”
“Before you give me too much credit, remember my uncle is loaded. I have nothing. So really the only credit I can take is for knowing how to use the company expense account.”
“Thanks for being enterprising, then.”
I got the camera packed up in its case with its three fancy lenses and stood the tripod behind the sofa. Then we went down to meet Marco for the morning session.
I sat on the sidelines and watched as usual, snapping all manner of still picture and video with my new camera. But my mind kept going back to that hug. How strange that I did it in the first place, and how awkward that he hadn’t returned it. It was a possibility that he was just grossed out that I was touching him, but it didn’t seem that way. It seemed like he welcomed the attention in a shy way, but he didn’t know how to show it. It reminded me of Mark Gladstone’s thoughtless comments about Kage being an outsider.
There was an unexpected tenderness growing inside me for the mysterious fighter, getting stronger with every day and every surprising thing that he did. I found myself wanting to make friends, but as much time as we were spending together, I got the distinct impression that we weren’t actually getting any closer at all. That Kage merely allowed me to be near him, hovering like a tiny satellite around his brilliance. In this case, it was I who was the outsider.
KAGE said he had plans to meet a friend that night, so we all skipped the afternoon session. I went back to the office and did some work on my laptop.
I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t driving me crazy to know the identity of the mysterious friend. It must have been someone important for Kage to ditch practice. Marco had been surprised, so it obviously wasn’t a normal occurrence.
At quitting time, I followed the meandering herd of Alcazar employees toward the front door. My suite was beckoning with its endless stream of TV and free Wifi, and its luxurious bathroom, and its river rock soaps that had eroded down to smooth pebbles. Another mind-numbingly uneventful evening in Vegas lay sprawling before me.
That is, until Mark Gladstone blocked my way. He leered down at me with his white teeth and perfect hair, still completely put together after eight hours of work. He slipped his blazer off his shoulders and draped it over his arm, looking like he’d just stepped out of the pages of a menswear catalog. Then he very deliberately unhooked the next button of his dress shirt, giving me a glimpse of black chest hair.
“Jamie, my boy,” he said, his voice overly deep and dramatic like a movie trailer voice over. I could almost hear an ominous soundtrack backing his words. “It’s time to go. Time to introduce you to the city of sin.”
“But… but I’m underage still. My birthday’s not for two more weeks.” I’d been drinking since the tender age of fourteen, but it sounded like a good excuse.
“Not a problem,” he said. “I’ll just order you Shirley Temples all night.”
All night? That sounded like a long time.
I glanced in the general direction of my room, then back at Mark. “I’m not sure. I have my laptop with me.” I held it up like it was the missing puzzle piece. My saving grace. The irrefutable reason I could not go.
Mark shrugged. “We’ll take it upstairs.”
Damn. This guy’s got an answer for everything.
Unwilling to be easily dissuaded, Mark followed me to my suite and walked right in behind me without being invited. Not that I particularly minded, but it was the first time I’d ever had anyone over, and I hadn’t cleaned yet. It looked like a gym locker had exploded in the bedroom, and snack wrappers littered the coffee table, proof of my late-night snack machine raids. Funny how your own mess never looked that bad while you were alone, but once someone else laid eyes on it, it was downright disgusting.
Maybe I should finally put that maid service sign on the doorknob.
I didn’t even get a chance to apologize, which I was totally going to do, because Mark beat me to it. “Don’t worry about the mess,” he said. “You’re a college guy. You’re allowed to be a slob.”
It’s a good thing my back was to him, because my eyes got wide, and I mouthed a few choice insults. I hadn’t really wanted to go out with him in the first place, and now I wanted to even less. But I was also beginning to feel like the lamest person to ever hit the strip in Vegas, and I figured it would do me some good to get out. Going with Mark would save me from having to explore a strange place alone, so against my better judgment, I went.
Besides, Kage had blown off our afternoon session to go out and have fun. Maybe I ought to do the same. No sense holing up in my room for yet another night of work.
We walked a few doors down from the hotel to a trendy bar full of Mark Gladstone clones and women who looked like they’d just clocked out at the office. Of course, they had freshened their lips and hair. I got the distinct impression that this was an after work pickup spot, nothing more, nothing less. Sort of like the Vegas office drone version of the Collegiate back home.
A couple of women eyed me hungrily, cluing me in quickly to the fact that I was fresh meat around here— chum to the circling sharks. I didn’t like it one bit.
Mark ordered a Shirley Temple for me. Which apparently is Vegas speak for straight cherry vodka. I nearly spewed it all over the bar.
“Whoa, we’ve got a lightweight here,” Mark said jovially, patting me on the back like he was burping a baby.
Jesus. Could this
guy get any more condescending?
“Not a lightweight,” I gasped between hacking coughs. “I was just expecting ginger ale and grenadine. This is more like rubbing alcohol and cough syrup.”
“Well, this is the grown-up version of the Shirley Temple. Time we were putting some hair on that chest of yours.” His eyes dropped to my chest, and I swear even though he couldn’t see through my shirt, I felt almost violated. For a moment, I thought I could relate to women on that subject.
“Okay, that wasn’t creepy at all,” I mumbled under my breath.
“Pardon?” Mark asked.
“Nothing.” I slumped my shoulders and finished my Robitussin cocktail while Mark wagged his eyebrows salaciously at a pair of bottle blondes down the bar from us. I groaned inwardly when one of them settled her hopeful gaze on me. “I gotta go to the bathroom,” I told Mark.
“Well, why don’t you do it at the next bar? We need to get out of here.”
I glanced at the girls and back at him. “I thought you were working something there.”
Mark gave me a pitying look and shook his head slowly. “Don’t ever take the first offer, Jamie. I’m just warming up. There’s plenty of night left to explore.”
The next place we stopped was more of a dance club with a slightly younger crowd. Mark ordered two Jack and Cokes and led me to a table near the dance floor. He nearly spilled our drinks, because his eyes were trained on the gyrating dancers and he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going.
“Whoops,” he said with a laugh and put my drink in front of me. I sipped mine through the tiny cocktail straw and sulked.
“Is this your usual after-work tour?” I asked, trying to make conversation.
“Yeah, I hit several bars. Then I pick my poison and get busy. That’s what I love about Vegas. I never have to go home alone.” His obvious bragging was more sickening than the first drink he’d bought me. “You see anyone you like, Jamie? Wanna go dance with someone?”
I shook my head, wishing I’d never agreed to go out with him.
“Aw, go on,” he urged, gesturing toward the dance floor with his drink. “Go have some fun. Pick a couple of young ladies to bring back to the table.”
And there it was. The reason I was here. Mark wanted me to pick up young girls for him.
Fuck. This is not good.
Three more drinks, and I was almost drunk enough to be Mark’s ho-bagger. I was watching the dance floor with some interest when I noticed a couple cutting it up near the center of the dancers.
The guy was built, really good-looking, and his female dance partner was riding his back like he was a bucking bronco, her short sun dress barely covering her ass. She wore flesh-colored strappy sandals, and her ankles were hooked around his waist. I had to give them an A for originality.
The fact that the bucking bronco was none other than Michael Kage was just the icing on the cake of my night. I shook my head to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.
But as I watched, it became ever clearer that it was indeed my client— or was he my boss?— giving that girl a rodeo ride.
“Oh, Jesus,” Mark groaned when he spotted them. “I heard he was dating her again. Who the fuck do I have to blow to get a girl like that?”
I turned my head drunkenly toward Mark and squinted. “Maybe that’s your problem. Blowing someone usually gets you a boyfriend, not a girlfriend.”
Mark ignored my derisive comment. “Do you see this? She’s a goddamn Victoria’s Secret model now.”
“Really?” I gave Kage and his partner another look. “That’s impressive. Way to go, Kage.”
“You haven’t met her already?” Mark’s tone was oddly accusing, and I drew back.
“No. What’s her name?”
“Vanessa Hale,” he breathed reverently. “You’ve never seen her in the catalogs?”
“Uh, I’m afraid I don’t subscribe. Though come to think of it my girlfriend has them lying around her dorm room all the time.”
Damn, I’ve gotta quit calling her my girlfriend.
“Well, if you have a pulse I don’t see how you could have missed Vanessa Hale. She’s the hottest thing on the planet.”
I looked again. Kage was smiling so broadly, I was betting there was laughter coming out of that perfect mouth of his. Vanessa’s long brown hair swung across his face as she held onto his thick shoulders.
“She is very pretty,” I admitted. “Beautiful hair.”
Kage’s hair was down, and it mingled with hers as they played on the dance floor. I felt a pang of jealousy as I watched them having so much fun, and here I was sitting with Mark the molester.
Just as the song ended, Kage started galloping toward the edge of the dance floor right in our direction. I wanted to sink into the floor, but instead I sat there like a deer in the headlights as he spotted me.
His step faltered, and the smile fell from his face, leaving a distinct frown in its place. He looked from me to Mark and back again, then bent his knees and allowed Vanessa to slide to the floor. The pair approached our table, her still smiling, him regarding us in a suspicious way that had me wondering if I’d still have a job by morning.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.
“Mark,” he grated, stopping in front of our table. “I see you’ve decided to show my little Gemini the ropes even before his birthday.”
“You remembered my sign,” I said stupidly, noticing that he had a dark half-moon in the soft flesh beneath his left eye.
A black eye on a fighter should not have been shocking, but it was the first time I’d seen anything marring the perfection of Kage’s face. I had the ridiculous urge to reach out and touch it. To ask him if it hurt.
God, I was drunk.
He didn’t even glance at me as he growled at Mark. “I thought I made myself clear when we talked about this in the office. Maybe I need to use plainer language.”
His right fist flexed at his side. It didn’t look like a threat so much as a reflex, which made it all the more intimidating.
“You snooze, you lose,” Mark said with a cocky smirk.
In that moment, I realized Mark truly was an idiot. He was the kind of guy who would climb into a lion’s cage just to prove he was a man, and Kage was the lion who would eat him just because he could.
Vanessa Hale leaned in toward me, swaying a little on her feet, sticking her heart-shaped face right in front of mine. “Oh, Mikey, this is Jamie? He’s adorable. If my lashes were that long, I’d never have to wear falsies on a photo shoot again.” She studied me with big eyes that looked green under the low lights. Tendrils of dark hair curled at her temples and twisted around her narrow shoulders. “Can he hang with us? Pretty please? I’d love to get to know the guy who’s going to help you get famous.”
“I don’t think so,” Mark interrupted. “Jamie and I were just about to find a couple of hotties to spend the rest of the evening with. We’ve got a few on the line already, and we were just narrowing our selection.”
Oh, Jesus. How lame does that make me sound?
“Jamie has a girlfriend,” Kage said matter-of-factly, as if he’d never considered for a moment that I might cheat. I liked that.
I didn’t correct him about the girlfriend thing, though, because I would’ve had to admit I’d lied. That was the problem with lies; they had a tendency to compound and to get out of control. I figured in this case, silence was the best plan of action.
Kage waved a hand dismissively at Vanessa. “Whatever you want, Nessy. If he wants to come with us, it’s fine with me. I’m just ready to go home and watch a movie or something.” He seemed awfully sullen compared to the guy who had just been galloping around the dance floor with a famous model on his back.
Vanessa grinned, assuming already that she’d gotten her way. With a face and body nice enough to rate a Victoria’s Secret gig, I was pretty sure she was used to getting her way in all things. Personally, I didn’t particularly want to let her get her way, but the prospect
of having a legitimate escape from Mark was too tempting to pass up.
I leaned over and whispered in his ear.
“Sorry, dude. Between you and a Victoria’s Secret model, I’ve gotta go with the model. I’m sure you understand.”
Mark gave me a sour look, but he knew he’d been outbid for my company. “Go,” he said. “Have fun, and fill me in on Monday. See if you can get some pictures.”
I stifled a laugh. Mark really was a shameless sleaze bag.
8
KAGE’S apartment was similar to mine in style, but about five times bigger. I had no idea how many bedrooms it had, but the center was an enormous great room with a living area, a dining area, and a stainless kitchen. The view from the wall-sized window was astonishing.
Vanessa danced into the apartment and fell onto the pale blue sectional, clearly comfortable in Kage’s apartment. She’s definitely been here before. I sat awkwardly on the sectional as far from her as I could get, because the last thing I needed was to get an MMA fighter jealous by sitting next to his girl. Apparently Vanessa didn’t understand that concept, because she scooted right over next to me, kicked off her strappy sandals, and pulled her legs into the seat Indian style. She sat sideways facing me, but I faced straight forward, looking about as geeky and nervous as a guy possibly could.
A supermodel, I thought. Sitting right next to me. And then on the heels of that thought… Kage’s girlfriend.
That really put things into perspective. I glanced around for Kage, who had disappeared as soon as we’d entered the apartment. I wondered what he was doing, and when he was going to come back.
“Mikey and I are just friends,” Vanessa said, as if reading my mind.
I whipped around to face her, wishing it wasn’t so obvious that her comment had affected me. “Doesn’t matter to me one way or the other,” I said. “That’s your business.”
