“You look nice. Your hair looks really pretty.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Uh . . . your hair looks pretty and you look nice?”
Bridget grunted. That afternoon had been insane with Charlotte, Ashley, Nanda, and Annie invading her house to help her get ready for the press conference. She didn’t have as much help on her wedding day. Hell, she wasn’t wearing this much makeup on her wedding day, either. Charlotte, whose skin always looked flawless, did something magic with about three different colors of foundation, plus eyeliner and eyeshadow, though Bridget had drawn the line at false eyelashes. The eyelashes were just tempting fate. All the women had trooped to the mall earlier in the week, where Bridget procured a pair of slim black cigarette pants and a white silk blouse along with the most expensive pair of thong underwear she’d ever put on her body. Well, the only pair of thong underwear she’d ever put on her body. She shifted in her seat. How anyone wore these things on a daily basis was beyond her. She should have just gone commando.
Bridget glared at Colin’s sideways glance, and then she noticed Paddy trying not to laugh. Bruce Pryde was smart enough to keep looking ahead, concentrating on the road in front of him, his face impassive.
“What is so fucking funny?”
Paddy shook his head. “Whoo, I dinna think that Raptor and SoPro knew what they were getting into with this presser. All I have to say is, try not to knock her out before the match.” The wily Irishman grinned at her. “But you do look nice.”
“Thanks.”
Bridget closed her eyes and visualized the bay. She inhaled through her nose and exhaled through her mouth, willing herself to be calm before this presser. After all, it’s not like Hanna Kowalczyk was an unknown entity; in actuality, Bridget knew her a little too well. Didn’t mean it wasn’t nerve-racking.
Bruce pulled into the parking lot of Southland Promotions and drove through the parking lot, driving up and down each row slowly. Bridget thought she was going to lose her mind if the man didn’t pull into a place and park.
“Raptor’s not here yet,” Bruce announced. “Fifty says that they’re at least half an hour late.”
“Jaysus, I hope not. I don’t know how long I can deal with these panties.” Bridget wiggled again.
“I did not need to know that.” Colin made a face.
“Yeah, well, I get mouthy when I’m nervous, so get prepared.” Bridget shoved the van door open. “Let’s go.”
And she was out of the van and striding up to the door with a confidence she didn’t really feel. Fake it ’til you make it, Doherty. Fake it ’til you make it.
When they got to the entrance, Paddy said in a low voice, “Hold up.” Bruce and Colin stepped in front of Bridget and pulled open the heavy double doors, and the four representatives of DS Fight Club walked into the building as one.
True to form, the Raptor team was tardy, though only by fifteen minutes. Still, it was enough for Bridget to almost crawl out of her skin with anticipation. The press conference itself started off civilly with the fighters trading standard verbal jabs. Bridget surprised herself by relaxing as the event proceeded, delighted in the fact that Kowalczyk seemed to have to think about her retorts.
Then the subject of previous fights came up, and interestingly enough, it was the Raptor/Kowalczyk contingent who did not want to talk about Bridget and Hanna’s earlier meetings, even though Kowalczyk won. Bridget vowed to return to that little tidbit after the presser when she had had time to consider things.
Then came time for the face-off. Bridget knew that if there was going to be an issue during the presser, it would be at this time because the two fighters would be in close quarters with no microphones, and knowing Kowalczyk, she wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to say something in semiprivate that wouldn’t be acceptable to voice in general.
The women stood on either side of Matt, and when he called for the face-off, they both moved in close. Bridget put her fists up and stared straight ahead, right into Hanna’s face. Hanna put one fist up, the other on her hip, and sneered. For forty-five long seconds, the fighters glared at each other, and Bridget made a mental note to buy some sort of thank-you gift for Ashley, who had insisted that she wear heels.
The fighters turned to the front and posed for photos, and both smiled taut, fierce smiles while flashes popped around them. After the photographers had their fill, Bridget turned and extended her hand to Kowalczyk.
A flash went off.
Kowalczyk shoved Bridget’s hand away and showed Bridget the back of hers, flashing a very familiar-looking engagement ring before saying, “Kevin says ‘hi.’ ” She gave Bridget a mean smile and then walked off the stage.