Misadventures in the Cage

by Sarah Robinson

  She beamed, thrilled at his invitation. Even though she’d already invited herself.

  “Fantastic,” she said. “What should I wear?”

  “Uh, anything is fine,” he replied, not really an expert on women’s fashion. “Just as long as you don’t mind getting dirty.”

  “Dirty?” She looked stricken. “What do you mean?”

  “Have you ever been to a fight before?” he asked her. “Or seen one on television?”

  She shook her head. “No, but I’m excited to try it out!”

  He loved her enthusiasm and willingness to take on the world, but he was definitely worried she’d bitten off more than she could chew. “There will be a lot of sweat…and blood.”

  “Blood?” She gasped. “Seriously? I thought it was mostly staged?”

  Callan lifted one brow, trying to gauge if she really thought that or not. “I think you’re thinking of pageant wrestling…some of which is definitely staged. But I’m a mixed martial artist fighter. We…we do the damn thing.”

  “Oh.” She lifted her chin slightly, digesting this new information. “Wow. That’s…that’s kind of hot.”

  He laughed at her candor. Maybe she wasn’t all there upstairs, but the woman was humorous. “Well, thank you. I guess.”

  “I’ll be prepared for blood and guts.” She set her lips in a thin line. “Bring it on.”

  “Slow down,” he cautioned, still chuckling. “You shouldn’t be seeing anyone’s guts. Something will have really gone wrong if that happens.”

  She looked relieved. “Okay. Good.”

  The waiter delivered the fruit platter, placing it on the table. “Would you like some more wine, ma’am?” he asked Michelle.

  Michelle nodded. “Yes, please.”

  That was her fourth glass of wine, but he was trying his best not to judge. It wasn’t his business how much she drank, even though it made him a little nervous. He didn’t really feel in the mood to take care of a drunk woman today. He would, of course, but he wouldn’t enjoy it. That was for damn sure.

  “So, Cal,” Michelle started. “Tell me. Do you live far from here?”

  “No,” he replied. “I’m about two miles northwest. Right on the beach in Malibu.”

  She nodded slowly, pursing her lips. “Interesting. What a beautiful view you must have.”

  “It is pretty incredible,” he agreed. He loved living in the Los Angeles area, but he’d found himself traveling so much lately that he was rarely home. He was considering selling and moving his permanent location to Las Vegas to be closer to the training center and where most of his matches were. The commute back and forth was just getting tiring.

  “I’d love to…to see it. You know, after lunch?” Michelle’s suggestive tone left no room for interpretation. It was clear what she was asking, and part of him wanted to say yes. He wanted to just bury himself inside her and forget all about his life, about the woman who’d left him and torn his heart to pieces.

  But…Michelle wasn’t Josie. It was really that simple.

  “Not today,” he replied, avoiding making direct eye contact with her as he placed his napkin on the table. “Actually, I have to get running. I have an important meeting to get to.”

  Not really a lie—he was meeting with his trainer in an hour.

  “Do you ever think about…about that night we had together?” Michelle asked.

  Callan lifted his head, gazing into her eyes for a moment, trying to remember the feelings he’d had that night weeks ago when they’d hooked up after a drunken night at the club. But…he couldn’t pull any emotions out. He felt nothing.

  It had been a one-night stand that he instantly regretted, and as soon as his assistant had found out about it, it had landed him in this situation.

  “Sure, I think about it,” he lied to her, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

  “Maybe Friday night…we can have a repeat of that night. It’s been a while,” she mused.

  “Chances are I’ll be pretty exhausted after the fight,” he said, deflecting her advance. It was pretty true, though. After a championship fight, all he usually wanted to do was rest and recoup. Not to mention getting medical attention for whatever scrapes and breaks he’d received in the cage.

  “That’s okay. I’ll see you on Friday, then?” she asked.

  He nodded as he handed the waiter his credit card. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

  After signing the bill, he stood up and came around to Michelle’s side of the table. He offered her a hug, which she took wholeheartedly, embracing him tightly. All the while, she was making sure the cameras caught her every move and saw the two of them locked together.

  Letting go, Callan said his goodbyes and then headed out the door. He tried to swallow the feeling of dread in his stomach that told him he was making a mistake…that this wasn’t what he really wanted.

  That this wasn’t Josie.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Fan-freaking-tastic.

  The moment Josie stepped off the plane in Las Vegas and jumped into her Lyft to head toward her brother’s house, she saw Callan’s handsome face staring back at her.

  Well, to be more clear, it was a picture of his face on a giant billboard towering above her as they drove. According to the information on the sign, he was starring in yet another championship fight in Vegas this Friday.

  So, they were both in Vegas for the week. She was here for an interview with Michael Rockport, and he was here for another fight that he was certainly going to win. He’d won every fight he’d been in over the last year. Not that she’d been stalking him or anything…

  She just liked to keep up-to-date on his career and what he was going through. Admittedly, she also followed him online to see what the latest gossip was about his life. Thankfully, he seemed to not really have much of a life. Not that she was hoping he was still single, but…

  Okay, so she kind of hoped he was.

  Sighing, she turned away from the billboard and focused on the headrest of the passenger seat in front of her. Glancing down, she noticed some magazines stuffed in the back pocket of the front seat. Pulling out the latest copy of OK! magazine, she surveyed the cover.

  Latest Kardashian meltdown—caught on tape! Looked promising.

  Brad Pitt caught with his pants down. That was definitely a lie.

  MMA star Callan Walsh cozies up to swimsuit model. Her breath caught in her throat. Excuse me?

  She immediately turned to the page for the story on the cover. Sure enough, there were large photos of Callan having lunch with a gorgeous blonde in a tight spandex dress that hugged every inch of her nonexistent curves. Except for her giant tits. Those were definitely paid for.

  Jealousy bubbled up in her stomach, and she tried to push it away. Why did she even care? They hadn’t been together in over a year, and when they had been together, it was for two weeks. Barely enough time for anything to happen.

  Except something had happened.

  Her heart had gotten involved.

  Josie took in the photos in front of her. Callan was smiling at the laughing swimsuit model, and they were holding hands. They looked…happy. She hadn’t expected him to stay single forever, but it stung nonetheless to see it in front of her face.

  Tucking the magazine back into the pocket of the seat in front of her, she tried to push the entire thing out of her mind. She wasn’t in town to think about Callan. She’d left him for a reason—to pursue her career.

  That was what she was doing here.

  She pulled out her phone and opened it to the notes section. She reread the talking points and interview tips that she had been practicing for the last few days in preparation for today. Overall, she felt very ready for this interview and was certain she was going to knock it out of the park.

  In just the first week since her graduation, she’d gotten three job offers to places she’d applied and from one place that had sought her out from her graduating class. However, one job was in Texas and the other two
were in New York City. As much as she loved the city—and these jobs were truly great opportunities—it wasn’t her home, and they weren’t Michael Rockport.

  Just driving the back roads from the airport toward the strip where her brother now lived full-time in a hotel penthouse, she couldn’t help but take in all the sights of the city she loved so much. Vegas was in her blood. It was a part of her, and she couldn’t believe that she’d ever left. Sure, it had been an amazing opportunity, and she’d needed the break from her family and that whole world. But now? Now things were different. She was ready to come home. She was ready to settle down into a life she’d always dreamed of.

  If only it would have her.

  Her Lyft pulled up to the hotel a few minutes later, and Josie thanked the driver as he opened the door for her and she stepped out. A lone paparazzo hanging out on the sidewalk in front of the hotel snapped her picture and tried calling out to her, but she ignored him and ducked inside quickly.

  “Hi. I’m here to see Michael Rockport,” she said to the restaurant manager after she’d finally located her in the bustling restaurant tucked away inside the Venetian Hotel.

  “Your name?” the woman asked, smiling brightly.

  “Josie Gray,” she replied.

  “I’ll let him know you’re here. Why don’t you take a seat at the bar and help yourself to a cocktail while you wait—complimentary, of course.”

  “Thank you.” Josie made her way over to the bar and hopped up on one of the luxurious high-top chairs.

  The bartender came over and asked her what she’d liked to drink.

  “Vodka and soda.”

  He quickly brought her drink and then left her there alone to pass her time as she sipped on the edge of her glass. She busied herself playing with her phone while she waited, and about fifteen minutes went by before she heard a familiar voice greeting her.

  “Ms. Gray,” Rockport called out to her, walking up to her at the bar. “It’s so lovely to see you again. It’s been, what, a year now?”

  She nodded her head, quickly standing and extending her hand to the celebrity chef. “A little over that, actually.”

  “Well, I was just thrilled when I got a call from your brother that you’re open for a job. I’ve been following your progress at ICE in New York, and I must say—I’m impressed.”

  “Thank you so much,” she quickly responded, feeling more nervous at the praise than grateful.

  “Come, let me give you a tour of the restaurant, and then we’ll meet in my office for a little bit.” He gestured for her to follow him, so she did.

  Rockport showed her around the main dining area and then more carefully took her through the kitchen, explaining every station to her and introducing her to everyone who worked there. It was overwhelming and exciting, but she couldn’t have been more grateful for the opportunity to see a real Vegas kitchen in full swing.

  “Do you have any questions?” Rockport asked her as they entered his office. It was large and expansive, a floor up from the dining room beneath it.

  “My only question is when can I start?” she said confidently.

  Rockport laughed, his head tipping backward as his belly jiggled. “You’re eager. I like that.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ll be honest,” he started. “I’ve already looked over your résumé, done my research, and your teachers all speak very highly of you. I’d like you to whip up one dish for me, and if everything goes smoothly, I’ll have the contracts drawn up immediately.”

  Josie clapped her hands together. “I’d love that. What would you like me to cook?”

  “I’ll leave that up to you, but I’m going to throw in a mystery ingredient for you to use.” He lifted one brow, a small smirk on his face.

  That was just like what he did on his show—giving contestants a mystery ingredient to incorporate into their dishes and make it the star. It was always something slightly odd or offbeat, but she loved the concept.

  “I would be more than happy to do that. What’s the ingredient?”

  “Chickpeas,” he said. “We’re a Mediterranean-fusion restaurant, so I thought it seemed fitting. You can go on into the kitchen and get started. I’ll grab you an extra chef’s coat. Oh, and Josie? You have twenty minutes.”

  Ideas immediately started to flood Josie’s brain as excitement coursed through her at the prospect. She headed to the kitchen, and after putting on a borrowed chef’s coat, she began rummaging through the fridge and pantry to see what types of ingredients she could throw together.

  Quickly, she concocted a plan and pulled together the necessary items. Rockport had set her up at her own station in the corner so she was out of the way of the other people in the kitchen preparing lunch for the diners. Deciding to stick with the theme of the restaurant, Josie prepared a vegan spanakopita, swapping out the feta cheese for a chickpea and tahini mixture that perfectly complemented the phyllo dough and spinach.

  She was cutting it close to the wire, almost hitting the twenty-minute mark, but she managed to make it just in time, pulling out a small baking dish perfect for individual portions from the oven. Plating it on a pristine white ceramic, she topped it with a few garnishes and then walked it back up to the office where she’d be meeting Michael Rockport again.

  “Ah, Josie. You’re all done?” he asked her as she entered, holding the dish in one hand with a kitchen rag to keep her hand from burning. “What have you got?”

  “Chef, I’ve made you a vegan spanakopita featuring chickpeas and tahini.” She placed the dish in front of him and stepped back, her chest puffing up slightly at the pride she was feeling. She’d put her all into this dish, and it was a damn fine piece of culinary work.

  Rockport took the fork from the side of his plate and dug it into the food, brought it to his mouth, and took his time savoring the bite. He returned his fork to the spanakopita and took a second bite, chewing just as carefully. Finally, he laid the fork down and turned his attention to her.

  “Well, Josie.” He shook his head. “This might be better than regular spanakopita. You’ve done a phenomenal job.”

  She beamed. “Thank you, Chef.”

  “I’d say it’s safe to assume you’ll be receiving a contract in your email very shortly.” Rockport stood and extended a hand to her. “Welcome aboard, Ms. Gray.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  It had been a long time since she’d come to O’Hannigan’s Bar & Grill. In fact, the last time Josie had walked through these doors had been over a year ago, when she’d first met Callan. She wasn’t sure what it was about tonight, but she was feeling…nostalgic.

  Seating herself at the bar, she ordered a vodka soda from the bartender and immediately took a sip when he brought it to her. Nerves settled in her belly as she thought of everything happening tomorrow. It was her first shift as sous chef at Niro’s. Even though she’d only interviewed for the job three days ago, the hiring process had gone fast. They’d processed her paperwork and gotten her in the door immediately. They’d even given her a huge signing bonus to help her find a place to live in Vegas and move all her stuff from New York City. She was still staying in her brother’s hotel at the moment, but she planned to find a place as soon as she had the time. Tomorrow was her first day shadowing the head chef at Niro’s, and she couldn’t be more excited.

  Apparently, the head chef was retiring in the next year, so Rockport’s plan was to have her train under him and then take over as head chef once he retired. It was a lot for a brand-new chef on the scene, but he seemed convinced she could do it.

  And hell, she wanted it. Badly.

  There was nothing she would love more than to run her own kitchen—and in one of the best restaurants on the Las Vegas strip? It was nothing short of a dream come true.

  “Nice seeing you here,” a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

  Josie turned around to see Callan Walsh standing behind her. He was dressed in a suit and looked like he’d just come from a fancy
event—way out of the league of a dive bar like O’Hannigan’s. But damn, it fit him perfectly. She could still see every bulge of his muscular arms under the jacket, and the way his hair was slicked back, pulled into a tight ponytail…he just looked rugged.

  She’d almost forgotten how handsome he was in person. Sure, he’d looked hot as hell in the photographs she’d seen, but it was nothing compared to the real thing.

  “Callan…” His name left her lips slowly, almost like a breath being exhaled. She was startled to see him in person…and here? Their spot.

  “Josie,” he greeted her in turn. “Mind if I sit here?”

  He gestured to the stool beside her. She nodded that it was fine, and he pulled out the stool and sat.

  “It’s been a while,” he said quietly. “How are you?”

  “I-I’m good,” she said, stumbling over her words. “How have you been?”

  He tilted his chin down slightly, as if he didn’t know how he was going to respond. When his eyes rose back to hers, they were filled with…was it sorrow? She sensed a sadness behind him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  “I’ve been okay,” he said. “You look amazing.”

  His words rang sincere, and the way his eyes raked over her body…it gave her the best kind of chills.

  A heavy silence hung over them for a moment as she tried to think of something to say instead of just staring at him and his perfect jawline.

  “I heard you have a fight tomorrow,” she said finally, trying to make conversation. Small talk was the devil. “And a new girlfriend. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. I’m looking forward to the match tomorrow. And Michelle isn’t exactly my girlfriend,” he quickly clarified. “We have just been out a few times.”

  “Oh.” That was interesting. Then again, tabloids were known for fabricating the truth. “Well, still, congratulations on everything.”