Britany socks me in the nose; she’s got a serious punch. I counter, jabbing her in the chest. “Watch your footwork,” Marianna says; she’s hanging on the side of the ropes.

“Arms up, come one, you’re sloppy,” Katie says.

I had tried calling Damion to see if he’d be willing to train me, but he’s overbooked. I tried talking to a number of other trainers, but no one will take me seriously –no one who’s any good, that is. So here I am, training with Laurel’s posse. I’m actually really impressed with Britany; she’s got some serious speed. These women have been putting me through the ringer; each one of them has something different to show me, and I return the favor. My match is tonight, and any spare time at the gym I’ve spent sparring with them. When I’m off work, I’ve been working with Marty and Tyler too.

Alex approaches, and she shakes her head. “I hear you got a match tonight?”

“Yup,” I say, lowering my gloves; Britany punches me in the face.

“Shit, sorry!” she says.

I shake my head. Alex laughs. “Don’t let yourself get distracted tonight, all right? I’m rooting for you. Go ahead and take your lunch break, all right?”

I nod and hop out of the ring. “Hey,” LaWanda says, “why don’t we take Jonny-boy to our place for lunch? You need a good lunch to get you fueled for tonight.”

I smile. “Sounds good,” Laurel says, “I’m starving.”

“Ooh, I got something to show you guys,” I say as the group follows me out to the parking lot.

“Is that your car?” I hear Eleanor squeal as she points at the Volkswagen.

“Yup,” I say, and I hear Laurel laugh –loudly.

Bobby hooked me up; he had a mechanic who owed him big time from his days as DA. It’s not fucking pink anymore. The guy gave it a paintjob; it’s black with a red racing stripe. Plus, he fixed the handle and a few minor mechanical issues, so it doesn’t stall out on me anymore either. “Nice,” Laurel says, “When were you going to show me this?”

I laugh, “Probably today.”

“I like how he kept the pink fuzzy dice,” Marianna says, laughing.

We load up in my car and Marianna’s; I follow her to this supposedly awesome restaurant they all go to for lunch on occasion. We pull up outside this small family diner place; apparently they have a lot of healthy menu options or something like that. It’s packed full, so I guess it’s a pretty popular place. Laurel hops out of the car and runs inside to get us a seat while I park the car.

We all pile out, and we head inside. The place is packed, but somehow Laurel managed to get us all a large booth; we squeeze in. Laurel sits on one side of me, Britany on the other. Across from us LaWanda, Marianna, and Katie sit while Eleanor pulls up a table on the end, saying she doesn’t like squeezing into booths anyways. I don’t blame her; there is no elbow room.

They all order fried chicken Caesar salads, swearing that it’s amazing, so I follow suit. “Fried chicken before a match? Why not?” I joke.

“It is a salad, Jonathan,” Eleanor says, and I laugh.

“I can’t believe I’ve never been here,” I say, looking around at the crowd. “Must be good with this many people crammed in here.”

“Oh, it is,” Laurel says.

We all start talking about my match; I got to say, I’m really pumped about it. The server comes and dumps all the salads down on the table. I haven’t even taken a bite out of my food before I hear a familiar voice shouting, “Yo, Trial!”

I cringe. Looking up, I see Donte Evans wondering over from the little bar, drink in hand. Donte? Really? I frown, and the women all see my tension. “Hey,” I grunt slightly –hardly able to believe he actually came over to speak to me.

“What’s up, man?” he says, only slightly tipsy. Kind of early to be drinking. I just shrug. He looks around the table and smiles. “Ladies,” he says, giving them all a polite nod. He points at Britany, “Hey, I know you. I saw your match last week, well, not all of it –they did a highlight reel or something like that. Nice.”

Britany does a half-smile, “Thanks.”

“All of you boxers?” he asks, glancing around the table.

“MMA,” Laurel says and points over at LaWanda and Marianna, “Them too.”

“Rest of us box,” Katie says.

Donte laughs, “Man, Trial, you boxing in the women’s league now?”

I roll my eyes, “Yeah, sure, why not.”

“Look,” Britany says, picking up on my discontent, “Think you two could catch up later? We’re kind of eating.”

Donte rolls his eyes and holds his hand up in his face to block her out. I see Britany’s jaw drop; he’s lucky she doesn’t stand up and punch him. “I heard you’re teaching self-defense courses to rich stay-at-home mommies. That true?”

“Yeah, Donte,” I hiss, “what of it?”

He laughs. “Geeze, man, you sure did fall hard, didn’t you?”

“What’s your problem?” Eleanor says, spinning around in her chair and shooting him a look that could kill.

Donte puts his hand down, removing it from Britany’s face. “You really need your gal pals to fight your battles for you, Trial?”

“You know what, man, piss off,” I say. “We’re not friends. Fuck off and wipe that damn smirk off your face before I do it for you.”

Donte just stands there, smiling like a jackass. Laurel puts a hand on my shoulder, a silent warning to stay seated before I do something I’d regret. Donte looks dead at her, “Is that what you’re fucking now? Damn, man. You really did fall hard.”

If Britany wasn’t between me and him, I’d strangle him. I don’t have to, though. Eleanor, Britany, and Katie all jump up. “Walk away, you creep,” Katie warns.

Donte holds up his hands, one still gripping a beer. “Easy, ladies, it was just a joke,” his eyes dart back towards me. “I got a new lady myself… speaking of which… you talked to Brandi lately? Got to say, it’s weird banging a pregnant chick, but I make it work.”

Donte? Donte! She’s sleeping with Donte? I lose my shit. Now that Britany’s standing, there’s nothing blocking me from jumping up out of the booth. “I’ll fucking kill you!” I snarl, and I feel Britany grab my arm, and Eleanor and Katie jump in my way.

Donte is laughing like a jackass as the manager and one of the bartenders appear. “What the hell is going on over here?” one of the men say; he shoots me a look that tells me to cool off. I yank my arm away from Britany and stand there completely stoic.

Katie points at Donte, “this creep whipped his dick out.”

Donte’s eyes go wide. “What the fuck?” he snaps.

“Are you serious?” the manager glares at him, “Are you fucking serious?”

Donte stammers, “I-I didn’t do that!”

“I’m calling the police,” the bartender says.

“No, no, no!” Donte says quickly, “I’ll leave, I’ll leave!”

“Get the fuck out of my restaurant!” the manager screams.

Donte is at a loss for what to do. “Okay, okay! But I didn’t –she’s lying! You stupid bitch!”

The bartender grabs him, “Don’t talk to her like that –get the hell out of here!”

Donte takes a step back, “I’m going! I’m going –fuck!” He starts to step away. He points his finger at me, “Your kid is going to call me daddy, you dipshit. Enjoy your fucking salad,” and he storms out of the restaurant after being forced to pay his tab.

I sink back down beside Laurel. Britany, Eleanor, and Katie all slowly sit back down. The manager is standing over us, apologizing for Donte and promising to discount our tab as though Donte’s behavior was somehow his fault; I get the impression the women come here a lot –enough for the manager to know most of their names. I sit there, staring at my uneaten salad. I feel Laurel wrap her arms around my left arm, and I look at her. “Are you all right?” she asks, and I just shake my head.

Britany puts a hand on my shoulder, and I can feel the other women looking at me with these sympathetic stares. “I’m sorry,” I say as I turn to Laurel. I kept my mouth shut when he insulted her, but the moment he mentioned Brandi I lost my mind. She must be pissed at me.

“Sorry?” she questions, “For what?”

She doesn’t even know what I’m apologizing for. I just shrug, not wanting to get into a deep conversation about where my head is at in front of her friends. “So…” I hear Marianna, the lightweight of the group, speak softly, “you… um… you’re going to be a dad?”

“Shut up, Marianna,” LaWanda kicks her under the table.

“No, it’s okay,” I say and attempt to shake off what just happened. “I’m all right. Uh… yeah, my ex-wife… she’s pregnant, but she doesn’t want me to know that. Our old housemaid kind of spilled the beans; Brandi, she’s keeping it a secret from me. I didn’t want to get the woman who told me fired, so I’ve been trying to get Brandi to tell me herself.”

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore,” Laurel says, “now you get to tell her you know who she’s dating and that the jackass told you her little secret.”

I hadn’t thought of that. I smile, “Yeah, I guess it’s all going to come out now. I just don’t know what she’ll say when I talk to her. It’s obvious she doesn’t want me anywhere near the baby right now…” my voice sort of trails off. I feel sick.

“Well,” Katie says, “We got your back. If you need anything, that is.”

I smile. “Thanks.” I pick up my fork and decide to attempt to eat my lunch; the women all follow my lead, and we attempt to salvage our lunch plans, but there is an uncomfortable feeling in the atmosphere now. I can’t stop thinking about Brandi. Donte –really? How did that even happen? I think back to the night Donte and I got into it in the locker room; he and Brandi had left at the same time. I can picture it –that smug asshole sweet talking her, apologizing for getting me all worked up. I bet that was it. That was the day she left me too, and Donte probably swooped in, trying to play the night in shining armor. I shake it off. Unfortunately, I don’t have time to think about this today. I have a match to worry about tonight.