Chapter Twenty-Eight
Kya
Maxwell Lewis was hard. He answered every move Fenton made with a lightning fast combination. The two fighters hardly broke apart. Instead, they locked together time and again. I watched through my splayed fingers.
The giant screen in the booking lounge was overwhelming. It made every heavy hit reverberate off the walls. All around me, people drank and cheered, chatted and laughed. I could hardly breathe. Fenton was fighting at the top of his game, but Maxwell Lewis was an even match.
I was torn between wanting to run to the arena and see everything, every kick and spin and chop, and wanting to retreat upstairs to the suite and bury my head under a pillow. It was impossible not to worry about Fenton, no matter how invincible he looked in the ring.
At least this time he's wearing gloves and there's a ref, I thought. No more bare-knuckle boxing.
I watched the odds rise and fall depending on the moves the fighters made. Fenton was the top choice, but Maxwell Lewis was looking good. Watching the statistics flash next to the live fight was almost too much. I turned to run down to the arena.
"And he's down! Fenton Morris has done it. Total knock out!" the announcer roared.
My knees went weak, and I found a seat just as everyone else leapt to their feet. The celebrations and lamentations quickly spread out of the booking lounge and into the casino and bars. Soon, there were only few stranglers left to watch the post-fight action in the ring.
Fenton's left eye was swelling and his lip was cut, but he wore a huge smile on his face. I leaned back in my seat and tried to catch my breath. He had won. A huge weight was off my chest. I hoped now that we could move past all the mistakes I had made and start over. He was on his way to the title fight and whether or not we worked together, I wanted to be with him.
My breath caught in my chest again. I wanted to be with him? The man that made passionate love to me twice and then invited a stripper up to the suite? Was I completely insane?
There had to be more to the story. There had to be some way we could clear the air. Still, I did not breathe as the ringside reporter shoved a microphone in Fenton's face.
"Some people are saying you've redeemed yourself after the disastrous fight with Mario Peretti. What do you have to say to that?" she asked.
"I have to thank my team, the people that make sure I am fighting at my best," Fenton said. Kev and Aldous joined him. Kev held the black cat I had given Fenton over his head like a trophy. Fenton laughed. "They are the ones that help me make my own luck."
I was right about the black cat tattoo, so maybe I was right about Fenton Morris himself. There was a good guy underneath his act. Maybe there was a simple explanation to what happened between us. I left the booking lounge and headed upstairs. The least I could do now was plan a celebration for him.
A quick conversation with the casino concierge and a DJ and caterer arrived at the suite within minutes. Hotel staff helped me rearrange the furniture, create space for the party, and hang a congratulations banner across the wide picture windows. When everything was set, I stood under the banner and waited.
It was impossible not to admire the view and feel my heart soaring. There was something about Las Vegas. I loved the glitz of the Strip and the nearby starkness of the desert. I loved the chilly wind of the evenings and the hot beating sun during the day. And, I loved that underneath the facade were real people. I wanted to be one of them. I wanted to be part of this fabulous town.
"Great minds think alike, Ms. Allen," Kev called from the doorway. He marched in leading a long string of party guests. "Crack open the champagne and let’s get this thing started."
"Oh, thank God," I said. "I just realized Fenton might have decided to go out on the town."
"The man likes to party in private, especially to celebrate a win," Kev said.
"You mean he might actually be himself tonight?" I asked.
Fenton's manager laughed. "Oh, so you like the real Fenton? I figured. I never would have guessed it at first, but you two seem to be a good match when you're not busy messing it all up."
I accepted the glass of champagne. "Well, maybe tonight can be all about celebrating and nothing about work."
"Damn fine idea," Kev said. He popped another bottle of champagne as more people crowded into the suite and started to party.
"Who are all these people?" I asked.
"Gym staff, restaurant servers, valets, cab drivers," Kev said. He shrugged his shoulders.
For all his big talk and disgusting jokes, Kev was a good man. Everyone that helped him or supported Fenton in even the smallest way had been invited to celebrate.
"You're a class act, Kev Casey," I said.
"You flirting with me?" he slipped an arm around my waist.
I laughed and shoved his arm away. "Sorry, I've got some networking to do."
"Oh, so you're thinking about settling here in Vegas? I meant to talk to you about that. Opportunities abound. I bet your agency would love a foothold here," Kev said.
I blinked and could not hide the huge smile that spread over my face. "My boss would love that."
"Yeah, I got the feeling you weren't rushing back to Chicago. Sometimes a place just grabs you, like it’s got its own gravity and you realize you've just been floating along until you find it," Kev said.
At that moment, Fenton appeared in the doorway. There was the pull that Kev was talking about. Fenton Morris pulled me in to his orbit. I was about to give in and go to him when a tall blonde and blinding camera crew appeared behind him.
All hope of Fenton being himself vanished as he grabbed the reality show star and sauntered into his party. With the cameras rolling, Fenton was in full-on party mode. Tequila appeared in front of him and he tipped it back, taking a lime wedge out of Sienna's mouth. The crowd cheered as Sienna's entourage poured into the suite.
Kev gave me an apologetic look, and then swooped in to wrap his arms around two of Sienna's skinny, sequined friends.
"Let's get some music going!" Fenton yelled.
The DJ started and the living room became a dance floor. Fenton pulled the reality star into the center and ground himself against her. She shrieked and danced, writhing against him while the cameras ate up every bit of it.
"Not really your scene?" Aldous asked. He appeared behind me with a small plate of snacks, but no alcohol.
"Is it really his?" I asked.
Fenton's coach chuckled. "He plays it up good for the cameras. Saves money on a publicist, I guess."
So this is all business to Fenton, I told myself. It was only fair. I had let my dotted line get in the way, and now he was letting his one-man brand keep me away. I straightened my shoulders and finished the glass of champagne Kev had poured me. Then, I dove into the dancing crowd. It was hard not to smile as everyone was having such a good time. I finally gave into the music and found that dancing was a much easier way of getting through the crowd.
In fact, I was having so much fun dancing that I was surprised when Fenton slipped his hands around my waist and turned me to face him. Sienna refused to relinquish her hold and gyrated against his back, but Fenton's blue eyes were on me.
"I just wanted to say congratulations," I said over the music.
"Where's your date?" he asked. "The golfer?"
"Jackson? He's not my date. I'm not interested in him. I told you, I was just pursuing him for the vitamin supplement people. That way I don't have to bother you anymore," I said.
"You don't bother me," he said. He shrugged off Sienna and moved closer to me.
His whole body changed, became less rigid. I watched as the act slipped away and it was just Fenton that stood before me. He took my hand and pulled me off the dance floor. My heart pounded harder than the music as he handed me a glass of champagne. People patted him on the back and congratulated him. He smiled and nodded, but focused on me.
"Is your eye bothering you?" I asked. I wanted to reach up and soothe the swollen area, but stopped myself.
He shook his head. He took another swig of tequila and watched the surging party.
"It was an amazing fight," I said. "I watched from the casino. It was terrifying to see you on the big screen."
His lips quirked up in a smile, but he said nothing.
"We need to talk, don't we?" I asked. "Can we talk?"
"I wanted to thank you for the black cat," Fenton said. "My mother had a black cat that she loved. It was the whole reason I don't believe in luck. You make your own luck, right?"
"You're welcome," I said. "I don't think tonight had anything to do with luck. You might not show it, but you work hard."
"Maybe it’s time I start working smarter, too," he said. "I talked to Kev and Aldous and they deserve a raise. I'm willing to sign your deal. Tell your clients they've got my endorsement. Build in a percentage for my manager and coach and send over the new contract. I'm ready to sign."
"That's great, it's a great deal. You won't regret it," I said. "But that wasn't really what I wanted to talk about."
"Let's just get the business out of the way," Fenton said. He pushed away from me and was swallowed back up by the happy crowd.
I stumbled back against the wall and leaned there. All he was interested in was the business deal. It hurt. Now, I knew how it felt and now I knew why I had kept it between us this whole time. Everyone I cared about disappeared. The only constant was my work. A steady paycheck took care of me and new clients filled my days. That was all I had needed. Until I met Fenton Morris.
I watched him rejoin the leggy blonde. Together, they flirted for the cameras and danced late into the night. Finally, the camera crew put down their equipment and joined the party. The dancing got wild, then sloppy, then slow. People broke off from the crowd in pairs and small groups. The party broke up somewhere close to dawn.
The wild hope that Fenton would be different when everyone left died when Sienna stayed behind. I thought maybe once everyone was gone that Fenton would change back into the man I had seen glimpses of before. I hoped I would be the one to see him drop his act and be himself. Instead, he was wrapped up tight with Sienna on the white sofa and I felt sick from drinking too much champagne.
I tipped the catering staff as they started to clean up and then slipped out onto the balcony. If I kept my eyes on the horizon, I could see the desert and forget about all the fool's gold and glitter. I leaned against the railing and was glad for the cool breeze. I had nothing to complain about. Fenton would sign the deal, I would get my bonus, and with it, I would be able to convince my boss to let me set up my office in Las Vegas.
I tried to concentrate on work and not the crumbling feeling in my heart.