Don’t You Dare: A Bad Boy MMA Fighter Romance

by Claire St. Rose

  Managing the needy sponsors or objecting to this commercial or that was just not part of their operating manual. These were men who pushed their bodies to the limit, allowing themselves to get beat to a bloody pulp so that they did not have to do the boring stuff. When they got to the top, it was outsourced out and tucked away. As long as the paychecks were coming in, they were satisfied.

  But even in their first minutes of meeting, Lucy Hamlin could tell that Micah Anderson was a bit different. She had done her research after his phone call. He had a winning story, a great hook that the media should be biting to get a taste of. It was Cinderella for the fighting world with him going from rags to riches under the direction of a fairy godmother like coach—all while he supported a grandmother who raised him. He worked long hours at the gym to pay his way; he took on matches that were almost impossible to win just for the potential purse; and he endured injury after injury just to get to the top.

  However, that storyline was getting hidden in the headlines by this whole Romeo thing. His idiotic move of publicly coming out as someone’s boyfriend or lover was just a rookie mistake. While it may endear him to an older crowd of women, that kind of audience was few and far between. It was certainly not the audience that flocked to him or his sponsor’s products when the dust settled on this.

  Micah taking that phone call from the “mystery woman” was the perfect opportunity for her to learn more about the situation. She needed to hear it directly from him, to feel out just how big a deal this woman was to him. Testing the water here was her best course of action, but she knew she had to be cautious with her words. The last thing she wanted to do was to prematurely offend him.

  She leaned across the table and turned her body square towards him, exposing the curve of her legs and the hint of the lace of her stocking around her thigh. “Honey, sweet,” she said. “Micah, I hope you do not mind me asking, but who just called you?”

  She tried to sound genuinely interested, almost concerned. But she could give one guess to who it was. If he told the truth and admitted it was his girlfriend, she would have to work around the love interest part. However, from her experience, if he tried to conceal it or even change the subject away from the phone call, she may have a bit more flexibility than she originally thought. She could even take a shot at proposing playing different angles of the romance story.

  “Oh, it was, uh.” He hesitated to find the right words he was searching desperately for. She could tell that he was conflicted. Lucy leaned forward, almost willing him to lie. He continued, still staggering, “A friend. She needed some legal help. I’ll call her back later.”

  And with that response, she couldn’t help but curl her lips into a knowing grin. She could make this one work in her favor.

  Chris, however, was less than amused. He eyed Micah from across the white linen covered table. He obviously knew what was going on as well as she did. The only one naive enough to play ignorant was Micah. Boldly, he exclaimed, “Micah, we talked about this. If you are gonna take Lucy for her worth, she will need to know.”

  Lucy continued to grin like a fool, as Micah sat back in his leather chair, a fork, prong side up, grasped firmly in his hands. He took his green napkin and tossed it on to the table. He looked as if he was going to bolt out of the room at any second.

  This was Lucy’s time to shine. “We can stop this,” she said insistently. She looked at both Micah and Chris, as they glared at one another, each more annoyed than the other. She continued, “I know who it was, actually. We do not have to play games here. Micah, your story is everywhere. You could not expect me to come here today without putting in the time and effort to read and research my potential client. I’d be a sorry excuse for a salesperson if I had not come prepared to talk about this.”

  Before Micah or Chris could speak, she raised her hand to stop them from going any further. Using her other free arm, she reached into her red leather bag and handed Micah a shiny black folder with his name written in gold on the top tab. Inside were hundreds of clippings and printouts from newspapers and blogs. It was practically every piece of media he had ever gotten in his career from the very beginning up until yesterday. On the top of the pile was the image that had haunted him for the last few days. Micah narrowed his eyes to the picture of him embracing Alice, as he quickly shut the folder’s top, hoping that it would all just magically disappear.

  He turned to her as he tossed the folder back onto her empty china plate, nearly missing hitting the remains of her pale orange mimosa. “What is this? Is this some joke? My personal life is not something to be spun. It’s my personal life.”

  Lucy let out a small laugh. Nearly every one of her clients said the same thing in the beginning. She laid it out for him and said, “I would hope you would be smarter than that. It’s not just your personal life. You and her both have to come to terms with this. If you try to hide it, which I suspect you did given this embrace and sudden media attention it got you, the press will find out, and they'll make you pay if they suspect you lied. On the other hand, if you talk too much about it and let it become your story, you’ll always be known as the man who would rather play someone’s whipped boyfriend than hear him be called a victor at the end of a bloody fight. Obviously, neither is the correct solution.”

  Micah could only think of one response for her, “Her name is Alice.”

  Chris leaped in, trying to keep the conversation focused on Lucy’s point, “So, in your expert opinion, what is the solution for this…” He had clearly wanted to end his question with the word mess, but he backed down. Instead, he chose, “situation.”

  “Here is what I tell all of my clients, both married, dating, and single: Relationships are boring. While you may be riding high on a wave of attention for your fifteen minutes of fame, as soon as that girl, uh Alice, becomes just a part of your routine, she's not interesting anymore. Instead, they'll try to tear it down, bit by bit. They’ll look for ways to claim you are cheating, abusing, lying, et cetera.”

  Micah was frankly horrified to hear it, but he still understood. This was part of the role he played. He and now Alice were at the mercy of the press. This is what would come when he chose to provide for her first. “I obviously do not want that. I plan on making this relationship a very long term thing. How do I keep them preoccupied?”

  “You give them something else to talk about. You play them right back. You go back to being Micah the bad boy or Micah the rebel. You banish Micah the lovesick doll from their thoughts.” Lucy reached into her bag and pulled out a second black folder with his name on it. This one was smaller and lighter. She placed it in Micah’s lap.

  He refused to look inside. “What about Alice?” he asked. “Does she just stay behind? I don’t want to hide her anymore.”

  She opened up the first page of the folder. “Do you know this woman?” Lucy pointed to an image of his physical therapist, Sarah. “You need to play up some possible interest with her. Flirt out in the public. Go visit her work one too many times. Talk about getting an amazing massage from her… you know the drill. I'll help you, as well. I have gossip plants all over the sporting world. I’ve already had my assistant make a couple of phone calls.”

  Micah looked disgusted, almost sickened by this woman’s approach. “And what am I supposed to tell my girlfriend? That I'm fake cheating on her so the media will forget about her? How does that work?”

  Lucy shrugged her shoulders. “You tell her what you need to tell her. If she loves and respects your career, she will understand.”

  The fighter gritted his teeth. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to continue, but the way she put on this air of knowing all there is and having solutions to every problem, he could not help but trust her guidance, at least in this arena. “What else would I have to do?”

  She flipped to the second page. “You need to be a bad boy again. Before you leave the airport for Chicago on Saturday morning, you’re gonna do something reckless and stupid. Just enough to get you press, but
not enough to get you arrested. I say that you curse out a security guard at the airport. Maybe he’s annoying you by taking too long checking your bags. Raise some haunches and attract some attention. We’ll have a plant there posting about it on social media. Press will pick it up by the time you land.”

  Micah let out a loud, exhausted sigh as he rubbed his temple with his fingertips. “So this is how it’s gonna be from now on? I'm just supposed to follow the steps in this black folder.”

  “We have to do what we have to, Micah. I'll say jump, and you'll jump. Chris will say punch, and you'll punch. This is gonna be a team effort, but we'll make you a star as long as you follow along.” Lucy had said this so many times to other clients, especially reluctant ones. It was almost as if it, and her taking out her lengthy contract, was just part of her script.

  Chris nodded approvingly at Micah, as he studied the long form before him. He pulled out the last page and handed it back to her.

  He stood, no longer wanting to be a part of this scheme anymore. As he placed some money on the table to cover the bill, he turned back to his new agent. Her beaming and enthusiastic face unnerved him. Yet, all he could think to say to her was, “When do I jump?”

  Chapter 29: The Victor’s Spoils

  Alice’s heart was racing in a furious pattern. She was thrilled. It was her first time on a plane in years. Hell, it was the first time she had been out of the state since her father had passed. Now, here she was with first class tickets in hand and on her way to the Windy City with her celebrity boyfriend (who was madly in love with her).

  Everything these days felt so surreal to her. It was if she had hopped from one nightmare to a fairy tale. Or perhaps all of that good luck and karma that she had been saving up was finally being cashed in. Either way, if this was her reward for playing it safe for the majority of her life, she was perfectly content with her prize.

  Micah assisted Jeffrey with unloading their bags from the back of the SUV as Alice waited at the curbside. The noise from the airline was just enough to cover up Jeffrey’s voice as he wished Micah good luck and promised to watch the match from home. The couple smiled and waved at him, as he returned to the driver’s seat and they marched onwards through the airport.

  After checking in, Alice followed the crowd directly to the security checkpoints. Her black leather carry-on luggage borrowed from Micah’s personal travel collection trailed at her heels. She was eager to get inside and settled before their plane started boarding. But Micah lagged behind. When she turned to ask him a question, he was almost twenty full feet behind her. She slowed her pace, waiting for him to catch up. His eyes were on the ground, and he looked around about his feet nervously, as if he was waiting to be scolded from a teacher.

  Alice took his arm to bring him further down to her level. She whispered gently into his ear, “What’s wrong?” As she waited for his reply, she looked about the expansive space for reporters or fans, anyone that may be annoying him. He had been extra-sensitive about that lately. Yet, there was no one there, not even one person had recognized him with his wide brimmed baseball hat and unimpressive sweats on.

  He kicked his feet a bit and then, with resolve, led her to the far end of the room. It was only the two of them in that small corner. It was the perfect space to give her a fair warning about what he had planned on doing. “Listen Allie, you’re not gonna like this, but I have to do something today.”

  She was surprised and bewildered. She could not imagine one thing he had to do besides get to the arena and begin the press junket ahead of tomorrow evening’s match. “What are you talking about?”

  His voice lowered to a whisper, as he placed his hands in his pockets. His imposing body sunk as he spoke, “My agent, Lucy, she wants me to create a scene to get on the news. She thinks it will help distract from the whole romance story if I create, I don’t know, a distraction or something.”

  This was not the first time he had brought up the name Lucy. While she had yet to meet this industrious agent of his, she had already become well-aware of her other schemes to make the press think that Micah was cheating on her with the physical therapist. It was so low, even for a conniving business manager, that she had wished Coach Dean would come back. At least he wasn’t as clever to think of something as maniacal as that. And now this?

  Alice was flustered by it all. What did he mean by “a distraction?” Was he really going to jeopardize their trip and his tournament just for a little airtime? She could not possibly see how this was a good idea.

  Micah could read the expression on Alice’s face and the way that she folded her arms across her chest. He attempted to reassure her. “I’m not gonna get in trouble. I just need to rattle some people, complain about something going through security. There’s gonna be a plant there taking pictures and posting it to social media. He’s gonna make it sound a lot worse than it actually is.”

  Micah reached out her hands and grabbed them once more. “It’s gonna be okay. I am gonna be okay. We are gonna be okay. We’ve just gotta to play along till this whole Romeo thing passes.”

  Something in his speech gave him the courage he was lacking moments before. Without a word, he grabbed both of their luggage pieces and headed to the front of security area where a woman in a blue uniform checked their tickets and pointed them through the first class priority boarding area. Alice nervously looked down at her feet, letting Micah do all the talking and acting. It was her job to just let him do his thing so the “plant” or whatever Micah referred to him as could do his part and get the story in.

  As he stepped through the body scanner, he started. It was unnatural to her. Even mad, he rarely raised his voice. The firm quality of his voice’s tone was replaced by vitriol and anger. She could hear him rant at a tall, young-ish man about the wait they had endured and the fact that, as a first class flyer, he would be subjected to such a search.

  The uniformed man simply nodded his head. Even though Micah was putting on some good theatrics from Alice’s point of view, the security officer had obviously heard it all in the past. Micah took it up a notch, getting in his face and demanding an apology. Again, the man stood his ground.

  Alice was mortified by it all. She waited behind him as the crowd of other passengers stood frozen as they waited to pass. Alice could hear them pointing the couple out and signaling them as disruptions. She could practically feel the eyeballs rolling in their sockets. Yet, Alice tried to remain focused on the security guard. The last thing she wanted was for Micah to take it too far.

  When she noticed the man’s supervisor approach, Alice finally spoke up, “Micah, it’s time to go.” She leaned on his shoulder, slightly nudging him forward. Micah continued to cuss out the officer, as he slipped on his shoes and zipped up his and Alice’s luggage.

  Once out of the security terminal, he smiled at her widely. He looked almost pleased with himself—while Alice could not muster up even a fake grin. She held her tongue, just hoping to make it to the plane so they could get out of this place and away from those judging eyes.

  The first class passenger lounge gave the two some respite from the crowds. Alice snacked away on some mini-bagels while sipping a glass of champagne. Micah, instead, buried his head in his laptop, as he searched for any news of his work in the security line.

  At one point, she turned to him, bored with whatever news program was on the television screen, and said, “Did you ever imagine this life when you were younger?”

  Micah closed the computer screen and looked down at her seriously. “Yes. I did. I never saw myself flying coach or being anything less than a success. I don’t plan on being that person, ever. I lived that life long enough. I’m not giving it up now.”

  Alice nodded to herself. She had always known him to be proud, but this was another side to him. This was a part of Micah that she was newly discovering. And she frankly loved it. It took a certain man to be so sure of himself and so determined to speak with such frankness. She wish she could be the same way.r />
  The two continued to talk about Micah’s childhood dreams. He mentioned the big white mansion of his dreams, the shiny black cars he had envisioned, and even the children he had planned on having. And with each question Alice would throw at him, he would ask her the same back. For Micah’s white mansion, hers was a dream home along the water and a car big enough for a family of four.

  The flight to Chicago didn’t take too long, just enough to create some hype over the whole airport security incident. Sure enough, when they got off the flight, a handful of reporters were there to take their pictures. Micah and Alice both feigned annoyance as Micah refused to comment further, and Alice ducked behind the hood of her coat and out of the eye of the lenses.

  Lucy and Chris were both there to greet the two at their arrival gate. Lucy approached first, giving Micah two kisses on the cheek and outstretching her hand in friendship towards Alice. Chris thrust printed schedules in both of their hands, as he called for their two drivers to bring them to their destinations. Micah was to head directly to the stadium for a pre-show taping and interviews—while Alice was to hang around at the hotel until it was time for the match the next morning. Each party told her to lay low and to avoid talking to anyone she did not know.