Chapter Thirty-Eight
Kya
The music started again, and before I could turn to Fenton, he was disappearing into the crowd. He said something to a security guard in passing and the large man helped me off the dance floor. I was deposited near the bar and decided it was a good time for a drink.
"Order one for me, too," Kev said. He leaned on the bar to peer into my face. "You did alright on mic. I'm sure the fans wanted you to extol Fenton's sexual prowess and call him a god, but, you know, what you said worked."
"Did Fenton practice that speech?" I asked.
"The one about his upbringing and focus or the one about how to treat women?" Kev asked.
"Either, both. Wait, have you heard them both from him before?" I asked. My hand trembled as I picked up my drink.
"Fenton has spoken out against domestic violence, but he normally doesn't talk about his family life," Kev said.
I slumped into my stool. "Thanks. That makes me feel a lot better."
"Come on, Kya. It’s like I told you; it's all part of the show."
" I thought you meant his reputation, not our relationship," I said.
"Well, they might both have a ways to go. That doesn't mean you won't get there. Sandi thinks you'll make it," Kev said.
"Excuse me, Ms. Allen? I'm a reporter for the Desert Post and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions," a slim, young man asked. He fidgeted foot to foot but looked me straight in the eye.
Kev handed him a business card. "No problem, kid, as long as you send your article to me before publishing. I'll vet the quotes, dot the Ts, that kind of thing."
The young man smiled, unsure if Kev was serious or not. He took the card, and Kev shifted over a bar stool to give him room.
"I'm sorry, I'm not doing interviews if that's what you think this is," I said.
"Sure you are," Kev said. "Just answer the kid's questions. It’s not hard and, who knows, it might be good for Fenton."
"How long have you known Fenton Morris?" he asked.
"A few days," I said. It was hard to believe because it felt like much longer.
"Have you always been attracted to 'bad boys’? Or was it Fenton that approached you."
"Fenton approached me first." I took a long sip of my drink to cover my smile.
"And, do you feel threatened by his womanizing ways, his drinking, or his violent tendencies?" the young man asked. He was concentrating on holding his phone at the right angle to record my answer and did not notice the look on my face.
"Those are all grossly exaggerated. Fenton Morris is a gentleman, an athlete, and a professional. You've got him all wrong and if you try to pursue this sensationalized direction any further, you will be getting close to slander," I said.
"So, you're saying everything the public knows about Fenton Morris is an act?"
"It’s a natural extension of what his fans want," Aldous said. He towered over the young reporter and frowned down at him. "As his long-time coach and advisor, I can assure you that everything Ms. Allen has said is the truth."
The reporter wanted to ask more, but I turned to Aldous. "Is this your wife?"
Aldous stepped in front of the reporter, effectively shutting him out from further conversation. "Tia, I would like you to meet Kya Allen. Kya, this is my lovely wife, Tia."
"It is so nice to meet you, Kya. I've heard a lot about you," Tia said. She was older, mid-forties, though it was impossible to tell from her flawless olive skin and shining black hair.
"You've heard about me?" I looked at Aldous. "I can't imagine what you must think of me."
"I think we have a lot in common," Tia said. She shooed Aldous over to talk with Kev and sat down next to me. "Aldous and I met when I was around your age. He was on the boxing circuit. I, believe it or not, was dating an accountant who tried to save himself from being boring by going to boxing matches."
"I don't think I can see Aldous having a wild streak, but I bet he was an amazing boxer," I said.
"Yes, very clean-cut and very fair. That's why he was never a fan favorite and also why he's such a great coach," Tia said. "He's been with Fenton so many years, they are starting to feel like family. So, when he mentioned that Fenton wants to settle here in Vegas for a while, I was overjoyed."
"You wouldn't mind moving?" I asked.
"Not at all. If it means I see my husband every night instead of a few weeknights here and there throughout the month," Tia said. "I should thank you for putting the idea in Fenton's head."
"Oh, I'm not sure it was me," I said. I looked across the room to where Fenton danced with three women.
"Give yourself some credit," Tia said. She patted my hand.
Even as I watched Fenton draped with women, my heart was buoyed up by the thought that meeting me had encouraged him to find a home base and try settling down. I clung to thought and nurtured it into a small spark of hope.
I held on to it all throughout the promotion party, even though Fenton never spoke to me. He only glanced my way a few times. I waited until I saw him leave the nightclub and then I took the very long way back to my suite at the Tropicana. My stomach was in knots as I approached the door, only to discover it was worse than I had imagined.
Fenton was gone. The second bedroom was completely packed up and a maid was stripping the sheets.
"Did he say where he was going?" I asked.
She shook her head. "But the porter said his stuff was going to the MGM Grand."
My hand was on the door handle when there was a soft knock. I pulled the door open to discover Sienna. It was shocking to see here without the blinding orbit of her television camera crew. Instead, it was just her, the long blonde hair tied back in a neat ponytail and her blue eyes soft without the heavy dose of eyeliner.
"Is Fenton here?" she asked.
My chest burned. "No. He wants to be alone the night before a big fight," I said.
Sienna was not surprised at the bite of jealousy in my words. "I just wanted to tell him thank you. If you see him, will you let him know I said so?"
"Thank him for what?" I asked. I squeezed my eyes shut and raised my face to the ceiling. When I opened them, I looked back at Sienna. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay, I get it. And it's not what you think. Just tell Fenton thank you," Sienna said.
She looked so slim and lonely as she headed back to the elevators. "What, no camera crew?"
Sienna turned back to me. "I took the afternoon off. I needed a little time to recoup – I mean, relax."
"Well, if you want to relax off camera, why don't you come in? Once the maid's gone, I'll have an empty suite. There's a bottle of wine." I held the door open.
The reality star hesitated, looked at the elevator, and then at the open suite door. "Sure, why not. I could use a glass of wine."
The maid had tidied the second bedroom until it looked as if no one had occupied it in weeks. I kept looking at it as I opened the wine and almost spilled all over the white rug.
"Here, let me do that," Sienna said. She expertly handled the wine opener and had two glasses poured in seconds. "I used to be a waitress; it’s a necessary skill if I wanted good tips."
"You were a waitress?" I asked. "I always assumed you had a trust fund or something."
Sienna smiled. "Exactly. That's what I want everyone to think." She slumped back on the couch.
"It gets a little tiring playing the part?" I asked.
"Yes. You get it. You can't be a successful female sports agent without playing a certain part," Sienna said. "Yours is good, subtle."
"Thanks, I guess. Though, I think I'm going to drop the act." I sipped my wine.
"Me, too," Sienna said. "I think it’s getting in the way of my relationships. I mean, I can't really find anyone genuine if I'm not acting like my genuine self."
"Is that how you feel about Fenton?" I asked.
"Don't be stupid," Sienna asked. "Our acts go perfectly together, but even that ended up not working because he's so into you." She finished her glass of wine and got up. "I think it’s about time I try out my obscenely huge hotel room tub without the lighting guy adjusting the soap bubbles."
I walked her to the door and waited until her elevator descended. Then, I grabbed my purse. I had to see Fenton and the glass of wine had quieted down all my rational objections just enough for me to go right away.
I made it all the way through the lobby of the MGM Grand before I was stopped by Dana Maria.
"You can't be bugging him the night before the title fight. He left the party early to be alone," she said.
"Dana Maria, I'm glad I ran into you. I've got to tell you I'm sorry we never hit it off. I really admire you, even if I say all the wrong things," I said.
"Had a little wine tonight, Kya?" she asked. Dana Maria adjusted her sequined tube top and smiled at me.
"Just enough to say things I mean."
"Good. Then, you can tell me why you won't leave Fenton alone."
I wandered over to lean against the glass wall of a souvenir shop. "I can't. I don't want to. I don't know. All I think about is the last time I saw Fenton and the next time I'll get to talk to him. I wonder how he's doing and if he ever thinks of me."
"Oh, Jesus, girl, you've got it bad," Dana Maria said. She pulled me away from the wall and led me back out the front doors. "Now, let me tell you the truth."
"Please. No, wait, do I want to know? It’s bad, isn't it?"
Dana Maria shook her head. "The truth is I like you. And, I like you with Fenton. I like the way he looks when he talks about you, even when you've annoyed him."
I grabbed her arms, smearing her body glitter. "Really? You're not just messing with me?"
"And, what I like most of all is that you do what is best for Fenton, even if he doesn't like it. You kept on at him about the endorsement deal, even when it hurt your chances with him. So, now you have to do what's best again. Leave him alone until after the fight," Dana Maria said.
"But he's mad at me. I didn't believe him when I should have," I said.
She stopped me from going back inside. "It's good. Let him be mad. He always fights better with a little anger."
Dana Maria put me in a cab and sent me back to the Tropicana. I practically danced all the way back to the suite, even though it was empty. When I woke up in the morning, the quiet was strange, but I was excited. It was the day of the title fight and I was going to see Fenton.
There was a knock at the door and my heart leapt. I tried to calm myself down but the wild hope that it could be Fenton made it hard to breathe. I rushed to the door, only to feel a cold rush crash over me.
Jackson McRay leaned on the doorframe. "I was hoping to catch you alone, Kya."