Chapter Three
I was at work the next day, going about my business working with a client that Sam had referred to me. This one was a woman so at least I didn’t have to worry she was going to hit on my like Mark or ask me out like Justin. Not that going out with Justin had been bad; it was just the opposite as a matter of fact. It had been so nice that I was still thinking about it and hoping I got a chance to see him to thank him again and apologize for blowing him off at the front door. The more I thought about that, the worse I felt about it.
My client, Tanya and I were working on her upper body. She’s a tennis player and in really good shape, but she wanted to work on getting more strength in her arms. I left her on the bicep/triceps machine and went in the back to get some free-weights. Greg was on the mats with a guy I’d never seen before. He was built like a fighter and had a lot of tats. Of course I was instantly reminded of Paul and the day he and I worked on his ground game. I was mad at him that day, but that hadn’t made being that close to him any less of an erotic experience. I’m sure Greg wasn’t feeling the same thing…at least for his wife’s sake, I hoped not. I laughed out loud at the thought and Greg looked up at me and raised an eyebrow.
“Are we doing it wrong?” he said with an amused expression.
“Oh no. I’m sorry. I was thinking about something else completely. Please! I would never dare correct the way you did anything…”
He laughed, “Calm down, Jessie. I was joking. Devon this is Jessie. She is one of my most dedicated employees. She’s here when I arrive and back before I get here in the morning. Sometimes I think she might be living here.”
“The Madison Gym ghost,” Devon said. He smiled and stood up. Swiping his palm against the white shorts that stood out against his mocha skin he held his hand out towards me. “I’m pleased to meet you, Jessie.”
I shook his hand and said, “Devon Rafter?”
“That’s me,” he said. His vanity shone through for a second as he grinned and said, “I guess my reputation precedes me.”
“Um…yeah. I’ve heard about how good you are. You guys are working on the ground game, huh?”
“Yeah. I’m a boxer at heart, but even the greatest need to switch it up every so often, you know? I have a really important fight coming up on Friday to defend my title.”
“Friday? Who are you fighting?”
“Paul Delport. You know him?” I was hoping the look on my face didn’t tell it all. What the hell? Maybe Devon just didn’t know Paul had taken off.
“Have you talked to Paul lately?” she asked.
“No, but my manager talked to his yesterday, why?” I didn’t answer right away so Greg said, “Jessie was probably just wondering because it’s been about a week since any of us have heard from him. He was coming in everyday…maybe he found a new place to work-out.”
I hoped that my face didn’t give away how I was feeling. He was going to be in town in two days for the fight I was helping him train for and he hadn’t even bothered calling me? What the fuck? “Well it was nice meeting you Devon. I have a client waiting out front.”
“Nice meeting you too,” he said. “I hope to see you at the fight on Friday. I can use friendly faces in my corner.”
I smiled and hoped that it reached my eyes as I turned to go back out front. Was Paul just using his sister as an excuse to not see me anymore? Could he really be that big of a coward? I wanted to doubt it. I know he was worried about Marie and Victor. I know that….
“I’m sorry Tanya, here we go,” I told my client when I got back. I tried to tuck my thoughts about Paul away while we worked, but they kept sneaking back in. Before I knew it I was worried about his strategy. He’d been practicing his ground game because Devon was known for his boxing skills. What if he was going about it all wrong? Devon’s moves…what I saw of them with Greg, were good. He planned on going in there and taking Paul out in the one way Paul had expected to do to him. Even if I could get ahold of him, it was too late now. Shit. It was his own damned fault anyways for not calling me.
When Tanya and I finished and she had gone in back for a quick shower I went up to talk to Victoria. “Hey Vic, have you seen Paul Delport this week at all?”
She shook her head and was typing something into the computer at the same time. When she looked up she said, “He hasn’t even paid his dues yet this month. That’s not like him. I haven’t seen him in over a week.”
“Okay. I was just curious. Devon Rafter is in the back. He said the fight is still on Friday night.”
“Yeah, about that. Sam got tickets for us all again if you want to go.” Did I want to go? I really wasn’t sure. I was saved from having to answer at that moment because Justin walked in the door.
“I’ll talk to you about it later, Vic. Hi Justin.”
“Hey Jessie. What’s up?”
I walked with him a ways from the desk before I said, “I wanted to tell you again how much fun I had last night. I also wanted to apologize…See, I kind of started seeing this guy but then he left town and I’m just not sure where we’re at. I didn’t want to start something with you until I knew…it just didn’t seem fair…”
He smiled. Putting his hand on my arm he said, “Don’t worry about it Jessie, it’s really okay. I had a great time and I’d like to do it again sometime if you would too. If not, I’ll live.”
Geez! Perfect stinking man. I’m ridiculous. “Thank you. Who are you working out with today?”
“I was going to go it alone…but if you have time?”
“Of course I do.”
******
I managed to suck up my anxiety for the next two days and not let it get the better of me. I had decided to go to the fight. I don’t think there was ever any real question as to whether I would or not. I rode with Sam and Debbie and Debbie chattered most of the way there so at least I didn’t really have to make conversation. Everyone was curious about where Paul had been and why he hadn’t been coming around the gym. There were all kinds of interesting theories, but I didn’t weigh in on any of them. I was curious myself what he had been doing since obviously he was moving forward with this part of his life at least.
Once again, Sam had gotten us great seats. The cage was right in front of us and I debated whether having such a good view was a good thing or a bad thing. I glanced around as the other seats filled up as well. There was electricity in the air that was almost palpable. The crowd was fired up and ready for this fight to start. They were loud and while we waited I heard at least three separate opinions about the fight. The consensus seemed to be that Paul was going to get his ass kicked. I wasn’t sure if I was still mad at him or not, but I was sure that I hoped they were wrong.
When the announcer stepped into the middle of the octagon with the referee and announced Paul’s name, I held my breath. I watched as he not so much as walked as he did strut down the center aisle. He looked completely focused and the upheld palms and fists went completely ignored as he brushed past them. He stepped inside the cage and suddenly appearing to realize there was a crowd watching him he did a three-sixty and lifted a gloved hand up in greeting.
Next, it was Devon’s turn. He came out looking like Sylvester Stallone in Rocky. He was almost dancing and throwing out punches. He shorts were white again and his dark olive skin was so shiny under the harsh lights that it looked like someone had poured oil over it. He bounced into the cage with a grin and unlike Paul, played to his fans. He jogged around the octagon blowing kisses and waving as the announcer read off his stats. It was an impressive list.
The announcer finally got out of the way and the two fighters were called out to the middle. The ref did his thing and the men hit their gloves together and went right into it. They began to rotate around each other, each one no doubt strategizing in his head. Paul threw the first punch, a jab from his right side, aimed directly at the side of Devon’s head. Devon proved he had lightning reflexes. As one hand came up to block Paul’s punch the other shot around and landed on the side of Paul’s face. I winced as his head swung around at an awkward angle. He staggered back, but was quick to right himself back up on his feet. He moved around a bit, looking like he was still trying to regain his footing and surprised Devon with a roundhouse kick that landed on the other man’s left flank. Devon stumbled, but only slightly…otherwise he looked unfazed.
That was when I think Paul decided to take a big chance. He took a step forward. The step alone had power in it and Devon wasn’t expecting it. Paul grabbed his arms and to keep from going down, Devon threw his forehead forward, slamming it into Paul’s. Paul didn’t seem to loosen his grip at all as they danced around together in a circle. Devon had a hold of Paul’s arms now and they were each trying to get the upper hand. The crowd was screaming, some for Paul and some for Devon. I saw Paul’s foot move out to the side and he did a quick sweep, knocking Devon off his feet. They went down together hitting the mat with a thud. They were both scampering, trying to get up on their knees. Paul was on his first and as soon as he was, he threw an elbow that Devon rolled out from underneath. As Paul’s elbow slammed into the mat Devon, on his knees now, jumped onto his chest. Paul didn’t stop moving and I saw his knee come up and connect with Devon’s ribs. The other fighter rolled off and tried to scramble back to his feet, but before he could, Paul was on his back. The bell rang then and both men went back to their sides of the octagon. Paul had definitely won that round.
The ego part of me wondered if he knew I was here. The stubborn part of me wanted to say that it didn’t matter. He didn’t call and tell me he was going to be here, so why should I care? I did care though and I wondered what that said about me. When they went back out for the second round the look on Paul’s face was nothing less than pure determination. He came out fighting, looking like he planned on winning this in as few rounds as humanly possible. Devon looked determined as well, but he didn’t seem to have the same fire in his eyes as Paul did. They exchanged a few punches and kicks before once again; Paul managed to sweep Devon off his feet. This time as they fell, Paul grabbed him from behind so that they would go down with Paul on his back. He had his left arm around Devon’s neck as they hit the mat with his elbow just above his trachea.
Paul reached out with the hand around Devon’s neck and grabbed hold of his own right arm. Squeezing the bicep he forced his hand down so that it was behind Devon’s head and brought his elbows together. It was a picture perfect example of a rear naked choke hold. I was proud of him.
The only problem I could see was that Paul was struggling to get his legs in place. He was trying to get his shims under Devon’s knees so that he could use them as hooks to control his legs but Devon wasn’t going to easily give up the only part of his body he was still controlling. He used the power in his legs and hips to lift them almost completely off the ground. It was risky because as they slammed down into the mat, Paul’s arms could have as easily tightened across his trachea as they could have slipped off. It took Devon three tries and it looked like it may be the last one he had in him as he slammed down hard and Paul’s hand slipped just enough to give him the wiggle room to slip free. He was still gasping for air, but that at least gave Paul a chance to get back on his feet. As soon as Devon was on his, he showed the crowd how he’d gotten his stellar reputation. He unleashed a series of punches and jabs and kicks on Paul that nearly took him back down to the mat before the buzzer finally sounded. That round went to Devon. Paul looked exhausted, but thankfully so did his opponent.
The third round began almost identically to the last. They circled around each other, throwing punches and jabs and I could see Paul glancing down at Devon’s feet every few seconds, plotting out when to take him down. He was moving slower this round; the fatigue was apparent in his face as the sweat rolled off of it and splashed to the floor. He finally got ahold of Devon and tried sweeping him off his feet again. Devon twisted loose and stepped back too quickly for Paul to catch him. When that happened I realized suddenly that Paul’s pretty blue eyes were no longer in the cage…they were focused on me. As much as I wanted him to notice me…I wanted even more for him to refocus on the fight. Devon noticed his momentary lapse of focus. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough.
Devon wrapped his arms around Paul’s chest and took him down to the mat, hard. He had his knees on either side and was just about to come down with a hammer when Paul twisted his body enough to catch hold of Devon’s arm. Devon was still on top of him, but Paul hadn’t let go of his arm and the more he tried to move, the tighter of an arm lock Paul ended up having on him. Before long, Paul was in the dominant position and Devon’s arm was twisted back at an unnatural angle. It looked like it was about to snap off in Paul’s hand. The crowd was ridiculously loud now and Devon had to be thanking God that the ref was paying attention because he certainly couldn’t have heard the tap. The poor guy looked like he was in agony, like it took every ounce of energy left in him as he lifted his free hand up off the mat just enough to drop it back down twice. He tapped out, he was done. Paul let go of him and stood up. Devon’s trainer was tending to him now and the referee was holding Paul’s arm in the air as they announced him as the winner.
Paul’s last name echoed through the building both from the microphone and the chanting of the excited crowd. His manager opened the cage door and as Paul stepped out with a huge smile pasted across his face, he was rushed by hordes of people taking pictures and thrusting paper, notebooks and even body parts at him to sign. He looked a little dazed and I wasn’t sure if it was from the fight or all the lights going off in his face. He tried to stop and sign a few autographs but his manager took hold of his arm and propelled him forward. I watched as they stopped at the back where a podium was set up and the manager told the reporters that had gathered there he would be available for a “few” questions. The reporters were all yelling at him at once and the manager pointed at them one at a time and they asked their questions. They were all along the same lines…How does it feel? Where do you go from here? Paul answered them all, still with the huge smile on his face.
“Mr. Delport, you’ve been named by several people as the biggest threat to MMA champion Trent Jones, what do you think about that?”
“I think I hope he’s been eating his Wheaties because I’m coming…”
The next few questions were about Trent Jones and Paul answered them all with confidence. I could tell when he’d had enough though. He looked at his manager and the man said, “I’m sorry ladies and gentlemen but that’s all for now.” His manager stepped back towards the locker rooms but instead of following him, Paul stepped down towards the reporters and began moving forward through the crowd. He looked like he was coming towards me but I didn’t want to get too excited until suddenly I was in his arms and his mouth was covering mine. I parted my lips and let his tongue seek mine out and we kissed like no one was watching. When he finally pulled back and we were both struggling for breath we realized we were being jostled by the crowd.
“Maybe we should move some place a little less crowded.” I smiled and nodded and he took my hand, leading me with him to the back.