Fighting Attraction
Page 61
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“I’m on my way.”
Fuck. What kind of game is Amanda playing? This kind of crap is crossing the line. Is Penny part of this? Is that why she didn’t want me to go to the club? Because she knew about this plan?
Fuming, I throw on one of my MEFC T-shirts and a pair of jeans and drive down to Club Sin. Damien is standing at the front door, munching on an apple fritter. A couple of guys in safety vests and hard hats lean against their work vans drinking designer coffee across the street. It’s a standoff, San Francisco style.
“Thanks for coming.” Damien claps me on the back. “The junior lawyer called a few minutes ago. This is fucking bullshit. Gerry can’t get me out legally, so now he’s playing games.”
“What’s the work order for?”
“Not sure.”
I glance across the road. One of the construction guys is wearing a T-shirt with the name of a rival MMA promotion splashed across the front. Now that I have a bit of star power, maybe I should use it.
“I’ve got an idea.” I make my way across the street and nod at the guy in the MMA shirt. He’s a short dude, crew cut, not much in the way of muscle. “What’s going on?”
He gives me a wary look. “Just waiting for our boss. We got a work order to go into that building, but the owner won’t let us in.” He looks at my T-shirt and nods. “You into MMA?”
“I fight for MEFC.”
“No way.” His face changes from indifferent to interested, and he studies my face. “Fuck. You’re Rampage! Holy shit.” He calls his buddies over, and ten minutes later I’m signing stuff for them—lunch bags, hats, T-shirts, and one guy’s boot. I pose for a few pictures while we talk about my last fight. In between, I find out that Gerry plans to demolish the building in a few weeks, and their work order is to measure things up, knock a few holes in the walls, and report on the stability for the demolition experts.
“I called for muscle. Not the fucking Friendly Giant,” Damien mutters when I rejoin him at the door. He holds up his phone. “I’m on the phone with the junior lawyer. She’s looking at the lease right now to see if Gerry has a right of entry.”
“Tell her the work order is for a site survey for an upcoming demolition in a few weeks.”
Damien’s face turns three shades of red. “Fucking hell. It will take me months to find a new place and get it outfitted for all the equipment. That’s why I negotiated such a long notice provision in the lease. He’ll put me out of business.” He repeats my information to the lawyer. After a few minutes he nods and ends the call.
“He has no right to come in on that basis. Thank fuck you found out what the work order was for. The lawyer says it was an underhanded way of trying to get around the lease provisions. Gerry’s lawyer should be disbarred for pulling this crap.”
“Yeah. It’s not right.” I twist my lips to the side. I’ve known Amanda a long time, and I can’t believe she would condone something like this. She’s always been strictly above board. One of the most ethical lawyers I know.
I hear the screech of tires, and Penny’s little Mustang zips around the corner at full tilt. She pulls up to the curb in a loading zone and runs down the street toward me, her heels clacking on the pavement, her floaty skirt flying indecently high in the breeze, her breasts bouncing beneath her light blouse. “Jack!”
One of the workers across the street wolf-whistles. Another makes a lewd comment. My head snaps to the side, and I am a hairbreadth from pounding on my new friends when she throws herself into my arms. “Don’t go in.”
“What are you doing here?” I hold her by the shoulders, still uncertain about her role in this mess.
She brushes her hair back from her face, takes a deep breath. “I needed to talk to you, so I went down to the gym. Andy said you told him you had an emergency in the SoMa District. I texted, but you didn’t answer, and I was worried you might be coming to the club, so I thought I’d just check.”
I feel a tightness in my chest, and I study her flushed face. “Is that really why you’re here, or did you know about this?” I gesture to the workers across the street. “Did you come to make sure Amanda’s plan went smoothly?”
“What?” She stares at me, her brow creasing in a frown. “I don’t know what’s going on. I came because of you.”
“You don’t know about Gerry trying to get into the building on false pretenses?”
There is no feigning the shock in her face, but even if she isn’t here because of Gerry, I can’t believe she would leave work just because she was afraid I would come to the club without her. Avery couldn’t look at me after I told her about my kink. How could I have found a woman who not only accepts me for who I am but wants to share my darkness, too?
She makes a quick call, and returns a few minutes later. “Amanda is calling Gerry now to tell him to send the contractors away.” She sucks in her lips, hesitates. “She’s pretty annoyed.”
“You said you were looking for me at Redemption.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders sag. “Adam, my ex, called me this morning. He got his shit together and now he’s studying for a psychology degree. He’s in LA on some internship program and he called my parents and tracked me down. He thought…” Her voice hitches. “…that I’d make a good field study.”
My upper lip curls in disgust. “A field study?”
“Yeah.” She gives a resigned sigh. “I guess I fit a type: abusive childhood leading to self-harm, recreating the abusive relationships as I try, and fail, to find the love I didn’t get at home—he didn’t even see the irony in that one—self-harm as emotional release, blah, blah, blah… I can’t remember everything he said, but basically, he wants to study me because I’m broken. I told him to take a hike.”
Fuck. What kind of game is Amanda playing? This kind of crap is crossing the line. Is Penny part of this? Is that why she didn’t want me to go to the club? Because she knew about this plan?
Fuming, I throw on one of my MEFC T-shirts and a pair of jeans and drive down to Club Sin. Damien is standing at the front door, munching on an apple fritter. A couple of guys in safety vests and hard hats lean against their work vans drinking designer coffee across the street. It’s a standoff, San Francisco style.
“Thanks for coming.” Damien claps me on the back. “The junior lawyer called a few minutes ago. This is fucking bullshit. Gerry can’t get me out legally, so now he’s playing games.”
“What’s the work order for?”
“Not sure.”
I glance across the road. One of the construction guys is wearing a T-shirt with the name of a rival MMA promotion splashed across the front. Now that I have a bit of star power, maybe I should use it.
“I’ve got an idea.” I make my way across the street and nod at the guy in the MMA shirt. He’s a short dude, crew cut, not much in the way of muscle. “What’s going on?”
He gives me a wary look. “Just waiting for our boss. We got a work order to go into that building, but the owner won’t let us in.” He looks at my T-shirt and nods. “You into MMA?”
“I fight for MEFC.”
“No way.” His face changes from indifferent to interested, and he studies my face. “Fuck. You’re Rampage! Holy shit.” He calls his buddies over, and ten minutes later I’m signing stuff for them—lunch bags, hats, T-shirts, and one guy’s boot. I pose for a few pictures while we talk about my last fight. In between, I find out that Gerry plans to demolish the building in a few weeks, and their work order is to measure things up, knock a few holes in the walls, and report on the stability for the demolition experts.
“I called for muscle. Not the fucking Friendly Giant,” Damien mutters when I rejoin him at the door. He holds up his phone. “I’m on the phone with the junior lawyer. She’s looking at the lease right now to see if Gerry has a right of entry.”
“Tell her the work order is for a site survey for an upcoming demolition in a few weeks.”
Damien’s face turns three shades of red. “Fucking hell. It will take me months to find a new place and get it outfitted for all the equipment. That’s why I negotiated such a long notice provision in the lease. He’ll put me out of business.” He repeats my information to the lawyer. After a few minutes he nods and ends the call.
“He has no right to come in on that basis. Thank fuck you found out what the work order was for. The lawyer says it was an underhanded way of trying to get around the lease provisions. Gerry’s lawyer should be disbarred for pulling this crap.”
“Yeah. It’s not right.” I twist my lips to the side. I’ve known Amanda a long time, and I can’t believe she would condone something like this. She’s always been strictly above board. One of the most ethical lawyers I know.
I hear the screech of tires, and Penny’s little Mustang zips around the corner at full tilt. She pulls up to the curb in a loading zone and runs down the street toward me, her heels clacking on the pavement, her floaty skirt flying indecently high in the breeze, her breasts bouncing beneath her light blouse. “Jack!”
One of the workers across the street wolf-whistles. Another makes a lewd comment. My head snaps to the side, and I am a hairbreadth from pounding on my new friends when she throws herself into my arms. “Don’t go in.”
“What are you doing here?” I hold her by the shoulders, still uncertain about her role in this mess.
She brushes her hair back from her face, takes a deep breath. “I needed to talk to you, so I went down to the gym. Andy said you told him you had an emergency in the SoMa District. I texted, but you didn’t answer, and I was worried you might be coming to the club, so I thought I’d just check.”
I feel a tightness in my chest, and I study her flushed face. “Is that really why you’re here, or did you know about this?” I gesture to the workers across the street. “Did you come to make sure Amanda’s plan went smoothly?”
“What?” She stares at me, her brow creasing in a frown. “I don’t know what’s going on. I came because of you.”
“You don’t know about Gerry trying to get into the building on false pretenses?”
There is no feigning the shock in her face, but even if she isn’t here because of Gerry, I can’t believe she would leave work just because she was afraid I would come to the club without her. Avery couldn’t look at me after I told her about my kink. How could I have found a woman who not only accepts me for who I am but wants to share my darkness, too?
She makes a quick call, and returns a few minutes later. “Amanda is calling Gerry now to tell him to send the contractors away.” She sucks in her lips, hesitates. “She’s pretty annoyed.”
“You said you were looking for me at Redemption.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders sag. “Adam, my ex, called me this morning. He got his shit together and now he’s studying for a psychology degree. He’s in LA on some internship program and he called my parents and tracked me down. He thought…” Her voice hitches. “…that I’d make a good field study.”
My upper lip curls in disgust. “A field study?”
“Yeah.” She gives a resigned sigh. “I guess I fit a type: abusive childhood leading to self-harm, recreating the abusive relationships as I try, and fail, to find the love I didn’t get at home—he didn’t even see the irony in that one—self-harm as emotional release, blah, blah, blah… I can’t remember everything he said, but basically, he wants to study me because I’m broken. I told him to take a hike.”
