by Meg Maguire
“Lovely. Thank you, Rich.”
“You got it, boss.” He returned the chair and headed for the door, turning in the threshold. “What’s Lindsey’s favorite color?”
“Oh gosh, I don’t know.”
“Don’t women always know that kind of crap about each other?”
“Um, plum, maybe. Her purse and phone are plum-colored.”
“What’s that—like purple?”
“Very dark purple.”
Rich made a thoughtful face and nodded, then disappeared in the direction of the gym.
* * *
WITH THE SECURITY CRISIS AVERTED, Jenna spent the rest of the day checking off the final boxes on her mile-long to-do list. At three she finally found the nerve to pick up her phone and make the call that intimidated her the most. She listened to the dial tone, heart pounding in her throat.
“Tina Maxwell.”
“Hi, Tina, it’s Jenna.”
“Jenna, how are you?” That smooth, schmoozy voice. Jenna nipped her annoyance in the bud the second it registered.
“I’m getting nervous,” Jenna admitted. “But mostly excited.”
“You’re going to do just fine. Have you got your welcome speech memorized?”
“Pretty much. I know what I want to say, but I always sound dumb when I just recite, so I’m going to wing it a little.”
“Good plan. Tomorrow should be all about conversations. Just talk to your clients like friends, because that’s how we want them to feel. Guests at a friend’s party. Plus I’ll be there. If you start to fumble, I’ll step in and praise the heck out of you.”
“Sounds good.”
“All the details wrapped up?”
“Getting there,” Jenna said. “We had one snag with the security company you recommended.”
A pause. “Oh?”
“Yeah. They, um, sort of...disbanded.”
“Oh my. Have you found replacements?”
“Yes.” Please don’t ask who. Please don’t ask who. Tina hadn’t come out and insulted the gym members, but they were obviously on the same level as pests in her estimation, above cockroaches but firmly below noisy next-door neighbors.
“I should be arriving around two,” Tina said, and Jenna found herself able to breathe again. “I’d love to come by the office and see what you’ve done. The photos you emailed looked fabulous.”
“That should be fine. We’re heading to the hotel to set up at three-thirty.”
“Wonderful. I’ll see you then. Don’t hesitate to call if you have any questions or concerns. And let yourself be excited! You’re going to do just great.”
“Thank you. Oh and Tina?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t forget, all the guys who belong to the gym downstairs, they don’t know yet about it closing. Only the employees, so...”
“Never fear. This job’s made me a walking card catalog of diplomatic details. My lips are zipped.”
They said goodbye and Jenna felt that little ball of acid in her stomach. She sighed, just as Lindsey appeared with their very late lunches.
“Toasted sesame bagel with chive.” She set Jenna’s paper bag beside her computer. “What was that gigantic sigh about? Has anything else gone wrong?”
“No, not at all. Just talked to Tina. Just feeling crappy about the gym closing. I won’t bore you with my guilty laments.”
“It does suck.” Lindsey opened her bag and spread a napkin over her desk. “They’re nice guys, all the ones I’ve talked to. I hope they stay nice, after the bomb drops.”
Jenna nodded. She didn’t like thinking about that, either. Mercer’s reassurances notwithstanding, fighters struck her as a passionate group. She hoped everyone would take the bad news in stride. “We’ve got Mercer and Rich on our side, at least. They’ve got a lot of sway.”
“Are you going to the tournament?” Lindsey asked, smearing cream cheese on her bagel.
“Probably, yeah. I want to, because it means so much to Mercer, and I’m really rooting for Delante and Rich to win their matches. But I don’t like that stuff. Watching people get hurt. Even if it’s what they enjoy.”
“I looked MMA up online the other night. It’s sort of cool. Not cheesy like I expected, like pro-wrestling. It’s pretty badass.”
“Indeed.”
“Then again, I have five brothers who lived and breathed hockey growing up, and played tag like the point was to rip your head off. Fighting doesn’t shock me too much. Plus watching live, unless we got really amazing seats...you can’t see too much of it, the bloody stuff. Especially not with the cage thing in the way.”
“What’s this ‘we’ business?” Jenna teased. “Are you going?”
“Why not? Mercer and Rich are stuck yawning their way through our big night. We should say thanks by wincing through theirs.”
“Mercer hasn’t even invited me.”
“I’m sure it’s implied,” Lindsey said. “He is your boyfriend, whether you’ll admit it or not.”
“Maybe.” Then again, the tournament marked the beginning of the end for their relationship. Once that came and went, the secret would be out, the gym’s closing going from a theoretical worst-case scenario to a very real eventuality. She didn’t think she’d much enjoy the event with that looming over them. “Maybe.”
“I just found out Rich could win, like, fifteen thousand dollars,” Lindsey said. Was it just Jenna, or had she mentioned his name just a little too casually?
“Yeah. He’s nearly a headliner, third-to-last match on the card. I don’t know who the guys are who are in the two super-top fights.”
“Fifteen grand, for, like, twenty-five minutes’ work.” Lindsey shook her head and took a bite of her lunch.
“Not twenty-five minutes I’d ever want to take part in. Not for a hundred grand.”
“I saw videos of him online. Of Rich, I mean. He’s a freaking weirdo.”
“Yeah, Mercer said he’s got an obnoxious ringside manner. Some fighter shtick. Shall I tell him you’re stalking him on YouTube?”
Lindsey snorted. “God, no. His ego’s inflated enough as it is. I was just trying to figure out how violent the tournament was going to be, to decide if I wanted to go, and his was the only name I knew to look up.”
“Ah.” Jenna nearly believed her. Nearly.
“Oh, you know what we forgot?” Lindsey said, setting her bagel aside.
“No. What?”
“Name tags.”
“Oh, crap—”
“Don’t panic. I found some awesome ones at Paper Source.” She leaned over and picked up her purse, fishing out boxes and handing them to Jenna. “I got a hundred, just in case. Pretty nice, huh?”
She studied the stylish stickers and the silver pens Lindsey passed her. “Yes, very. And good catch.”
“I’m so excited. I can’t wait to chat with people and steer them toward possible matches. Diplomatically, of course.”
“And draw the shy ones in, too,” Jenna said. “Tina told me that can be an issue. Letting people hang back is awkward for everybody, so we have to take the lead on them. But I’ve peer-pressured more than a few wallflowers into socializing during my cruise days. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
Lindsey sighed, a happy noise. “It’s so much more fun dealing with other people’s social lives. Like all the fun of baking and eating a cake, with none of the cleanup to worry about.”
Jenna snorted. “Oh, we’ll have plenty of cleanup before long. Plenty of ‘Why did you set me up with that loser?’”
Lindsey made a face. “Yeah, true. Except we’ll be unnaturally perfect at all this. The only dating agency in the history of forever with a one hundred percent client satisfaction rate.”
“I admire your delusion,” Jenna
said, laughing. “And sharing it might just get me through tomorrow’s party.”
* * *
AT TEN TO TWO ON SATURDAY AFTERNOON, Jenna spotted Tina strolling past the office windows and her nerves rose from a steady simmer to a rolling boil. No time to even smooth her hair, she set aside one of her many lists and got to her feet.
“Jenna!” Tina beamed a broad smile around the office, seeming to approve of the changes Jenna had made since she’d been here for the official inspection. “Foyer looks fantastic. I even sat in the chairs. Very comfortable. I might suggest a watercooler, though.”
Lindsey waved from her chair and wheeled it forward. “Hi, I’m Lindsey Tuttle. Jenna’s assistant-slash-future-matchmaker.”
“Yes, Lindsey the wedding planner.” Tina’s shake looked as crisp and professional as her gleaming bun. “Lovely to meet you. Jenna’s been absolutely aglow with your hire. Welcome to Spark.”
“Thank you. And for the foyer, I was thinking maybe we could set up a little table with one of those fancy one-cup coffeemakers.”
“That sounds like a great idea,” Tina said.
“Lindsey’s full of those,” Jenna said. “So here’s the office.” Lindsey gestured cheesily like a boat-show model. “It’s not done, clearly, but all the furniture’s in. I’ve been trying to figure out what color to paint the walls, since we’ve got to appeal to men and women.”
Tina aimed an appraising eye around the room. “I’d suggest something dark. Soothing. A dark slate, to offset the pine?”
Jenna made a note. “We’ll get swatches next week, once everything’s calmed down.”
“I’ll bet you’re looking forward to the party wrapping.”
“I’m excited for the mixer itself. But yeah. I’m ready to meet my clients.”
“And start meddling in their love lives,” Lindsey interjected, rubbing her palms together.
The party had them both keyed up, and the anticipation was finally overshadowing Jenna’s trepidation regarding her own love life. At least temporarily.
Tina took a seat in the guest chair. Her wedding ring was formidable, big enough to make up for the fact that the other two thirds of the party organizers were commitment experts in theory only.
“So, tell me more about how everything’s been for you two so far.”
Lindsey made coffee while they chatted, Tina assuring them that all their concerns were totally normal, and giving them great advice for how to approach the partygoers.
Finally Jenna glanced at the clock, surprised to find it was nearly three. “We better head out. The staff are expecting us in a half hour. Did you want to come, Tina, or do you need to get settled in your hotel...?”
“Lucky for me, that is my hotel. And I drove up, so if you can tell me where to go, I’ll take us over.”
“Perfect, thank you.”
Just as Jenna was locking the office behind them, loud snatches of a debate rose from the gym stairs.
Nobody bleeding, nobody bleeding.
She recognized Mercer’s voice a moment later, then he and Rich came into view, dressed in street clothes, looking fairly nonthreatening, except perhaps for Mercer’s scrambled nose and the prominent white bandage on Rich’s temple. They were deep in conversation, the volume clearly evidence of enthusiasm, not anger.
“Definitely some potential,” Mercer was saying.
Rich let loose a long, low whistle. “That kid with the glasses?”
Mercer nodded. “Justin. Yeah.”
“What?” Jenna asked as they approached the women.
“We had a kids’ clinic this afternoon,” he explained. “Just got out.”
“He could be good,” Rich said to Mercer.
“I know. Damn good.” He turned back to Jenna with a quick wave to Lindsey and Tina. “Everything all set for the party?”
“Yes, thanks. Guys, this is Tina Maxwell. The franchise standards overseer. Tina, this is Mercer Rowley—”
They shook.
“And Rich Estrada.”
“Pleasure,” Rich said smoothly.
“Mercer and Rich run my late father’s gym,” Jenna said, making a snap decision to not mention that she and Mercer were involved. Things were complicated enough as it was.
Tina’s smile tightened.
“They know,” Jenna added softly. “That it’s closing.”
“I see. Well, nice to meet you, gentlemen.”
Jenna felt she really ought to mention that these were also the guys who’d be filling in as security that evening, but judging from Tina’s expression, she decided it might be best to spring that on her later, once it was too late for plans to be changed.
“Well,” Jenna said awkwardly. “We better head over.”
“See you later,” Mercer said.
Jenna ushered the women toward the exit before Tina had a chance to learn just how soon “later” actually was.
13
MERCER WASN’T SURE about this plan.
He shuttled hangers around, debating what to wear. Maybe he ought to just back out on his agreement to play bouncer. Rich’s idea, so no surprise it was a reckless one.
But he’d said yes. And he wanted to help Jenna. And fine, he was dying of curiosity about what a matchmaking mixer might look like and, more to the point, what sorts of eligible men she’d be so intimately—if professionally—involved with day in and day out at her new job. But as much as he wanted to know, he also thought maybe it was best if he didn’t. Just like he’d never make Jenna come to a fight with him, knowing she’d cringe and gasp her way through it. He’d have to be nice to that Tina woman all night, acting as though she wasn’t the one who’d brought the ax down on the gym.
But no point fighting it—if Jenna needed him, he’d be there. Loyalty knew no logic or pride, and what he felt for Jenna went far beyond loyalty. It had to be love. Nothing made a man this stupid except love. Hell, just ask Monty Wilinski.
He selected a plain black collared shirt and his gray all-purpose wedding-slash-funeral-slash-rare-press-appearance slacks, praying he remembered how to use an iron. Or where he’d last left his ironing board.
This scary, raw hurt in his heart and craziness in his head were the reasons he’d never been in a rush to get serious with anyone. Care about somebody enough and suddenly you quit acting logically. It was probably a good thing that their romance had an expiration date. It’d hurt to say goodbye to her, but at least life would go back to feeling simple, and he’d once again know the lay of his priorities.
He found the ironing board in the pantry and managed to press his shirt and pants without burning them. He dressed, feeling funny in these clothes. As requested, he’d gone casual for Monty’s ash-scattering at the waterfront, then everyone had spent the evening eating roast beef sandwiches and drinking too much vodka in the gym, watching the hours-long DVD Monty and Mercer had put together of his all-time favorite fights. That had been a party. A party with a lot of sloppy, drunken, manly crying in the wee hours, but a celebration nonetheless. He felt more dressed for a wake now, a kickoff of the slow dismantling of Wilinski’s Fight Academy...
Jesus, when had he gotten so mopey? He ordered himself to quit thinking so hard about everything. Like that ever did anybody any good. He must have caught it from Jenna.
He heard the door open and called, “I’m in my room.”
“Cool. I have to get dressed,” she called back.
After ten minutes she appeared in his doorway, just as he was lacing the dress shoes he’d unearthed at the bottom of his closet.
“Oh,” she said. “Well, you look very handsome.”
He stood to check that he’d gotten all the buttons, then tucked his shirt into his pants. He stretched his arms, the fit feeling a bit tight in the shoulders. “Jeez, I’ve let myself g
o since I last wore this. I must have bought it when I was in training.”
She laughed. “Oh yes, you’re a real tub, Mr. Zero Percent Body Fat.”
He opened the closet door wide to take a look in the full-length mirror. “I don’t need a tie, right?”
“No. You might get mistaken for a waiter if you wear one. You still okay with this?”
He nodded, eyes on his reflection as he checked the results of his ironing. “Yeah. No problem. How about you? How you feeling?”
“Terrified. And excited.”
“Sounds like a healthy mix.”
He sensed her nodding in his periphery, and finally turned to look at her. “Oh. Damn.”
She looked beautiful. Perfect. Her dress was short, but not too short, sexy but not too sexy, deep red with a tan pattern, vines or leaves or something.
“You look... What’s the professional version of ‘hot’?”
She laughed, glancing down at her dress. “I was going for cocktail casual.”
“Well, you look wicked hot. You’re going to steal all your lady-clients’ prospects.”
“Gosh, I hope not. But thank you. You look awfully hot yourself.”
“Big improvement on my usual style, I’m sure.”
She smiled. “I quite like you dressed to fight, with your arms showing.... But it’s definitely best you keep covered up. Those muscles may keep any tipsy people from getting rowdy, but they’ll also ruin my female clients’ focus.”
He shrugged the compliment away. “It’s Rich you ought to be worried about.”
“Yes, we’ll see how that goes. Maybe I’ll just shove Lindsey in front of him every few minutes as bait.”
“I’ll tell him if he’s getting too...too like Rich with anyone,” Mercer promised.
“You weren’t...? It didn’t hurt your feelings that I didn’t introduce you as my, you know, boyfriend to Tina earlier?”
He shook his head. “Only girls worry about that kind of stuff. Plus she looked constipated enough trying to figure out how to be polite to me and Rich. No need to make her head explode. Save that for tonight when she realizes we’re working security.”
“Okay. As long as I didn’t make you feel...I dunno.”
