Chapter Sixteen

Tristan

A few weeks before the fight of his damn life and I can't get the asshole on the phone. His trainer isn't talking, his dad doesn't know where he is. It really sucks when you put this much time and effort into a person who doesn't give you enough respect to at least acknowledge you.

“Have you heard from him, yet?” Amy asked from the other room.

I shook my head, shoving my fingers through my hair. “I may have misjudged this one.”

Amy’s phone went off, and I didn’t think much about it until I looked up and saw her face.

“What?” I ask as I stand and go toward her.

“Um, Diaz just signed a contract with Performance Sportswear.”

“What?” I shouted. Diaz, the guy who wouldn’t talk to me at the fight in Vegas. His manager had totally blown us off.

She jerked at the volume of my voice. “It just says that his manager decided that he was going to sign on his own. Jessica wanted me to know and not find out through the grapevine.”

“I can't believe that asshole. He has our contract in hand. I bet they low-balled him and he took it.”

“Probably, but let's not worry about him right now. There are enough other things going on here.” She gave me a quick kiss and returned to her desk.

Our relationship had been far from normal, but maybe that's why it seemed to work. Once I realized that she was who I wanted, I kept my eyes on the prize. It just seemed like something was always in the way of us having a normal life. Between taking care of her sister and my niece, I wasn’t sure our lives would ever be normal. Not to mention my career was always going to get in the way. That was the nature of this business, especially if I wanted to be the best in the industry. That meant beating 360 and Liam. I wanted that more than anything and would have plowed through anyone and anybody to get there, until Amy.

Even with all the drama surrounding us, she still kept a professional demeanor at the office. She was capable and responsible. Maybe it was age, or maybe it was the fact that she’d had to take on so much responsibility at such a young age when her parents died. I hadn’t figured it out yet, but I had figured out the woman was amazing.

The thing about Amy was even though she’d had to struggle to get to where she was, she never let anything get in the way of her work. I knew that her sister’s life was completely dependent on her—every spare penny went to pay for her sister’s boarding school. I also knew that between caring for my niece and the time and money she spent on her sister, our relationship often took a back burner. The stresses of trying to work as much as possible to make sure her sister’s tuition was paid often kept her at work all hours of the night. I tried my best to not overwork her, but every time I turned around, she was going over another contract, fixing things that really should have fallen to me, and making sure every one of our clients was taken care of.

“You need to check out,” I said as I leaned out of my office door and looked at her.

“I will in about an hour. I have to—”

“Amy. No. I don’t want to hear it. Go home, relax,” I said. I walked toward her desk and pulled the paper out from under her pen when she kept writing.

“Tristan, I've got to get this done tonight. You see that stack?” She pointed to the corner of her desk. I followed her finger and then looked back at her. I suddenly thought that maybe my assistant needed an assistant or maybe my guys needed to do a little more of their own work.

“I see it, but I also see the dark rings under those beautiful eyes of yours, and I think you need some rest. Actually, here.” I reached into my pocket and handed her the company credit card. “Go to Rock Salt Spa and get the works. Facial, massage, waxed, whatever you want. Spend the whole day.”

“I have way too much to do. I can't.” She looked back down, never reaching for my card. Adrienne, my previous assistant, would have grabbed the card and run for the door.

“You do realize that I am your boss and I am telling you to get the hell out of this office and take a day off.”

“I can't take a day off. I have to use those to hang out with my sister during her school breaks, and I don't have a lot of extras.” She stood, her hands on her hips, and cocked her head to the side. Blood rushed to my groin as I watched her.

“This is a paid day,” I said, “and it isn't up for discussion. You will go, and you will enjoy yourself. There isn't anything in this office that I cannot handle myself. And since we’re talking about it, I’m changing some things about your employment.”

“Tristan, please.” Her lip quivered.

Surely she didn’t think I was going to fire her. Little did she know, this office couldn’t run without her. I knew it, and everyone in the office knew it. I know some people believe everyone is replaceable, but Amy wasn't. There wasn't another person on the planet that could do her job and put up with me the way she could.

“From now on, you will have twenty-four days of vacation a year, paid. You will also be getting a certain percentage of every account you work on. It won't be much, but look at it like small bonuses. I want you to come to work and not stress about how many hours you have to put in and how hard you have to work. You are my most important asset, and it's time you are treated that way. You will take at least one Friday off a month to go see your sister.”

“Tristan, I don't want special treatment, because, you know.”

“There is nothing special about my treatment of you. I used to do the same things for Adrienne all the time. How easily you forget.”

I watched her as she thought about what I said. She had to know about all the times I had left flowers or tickets for Adrienne. I even sent Adrienne and her family to Disney World. Adrienne had talked about that trip for months, and Amy was here at the time, I thought.

“Please, Amy, take some time and relax. Don't worry about the office. Don't worry about what has to be done tomorrow. The only thing you need to worry about tomorrow is you. It's my fault for not paying attention to how hard you’ve been working. So, please do this for me, okay?”

Tears brimmed as she stood and came around the desk. I was glad it was after eight on a Wednesday night. She shifted up on her tiptoes and kissed the corner of my mouth.

“Thank you.” She smiled as she turned to walk back to her desk. “Let me finish up this paperwork, and then I’ll be on my way.”

I laid the credit card on her desk and tapped it with my finger before I walked back to my office. I immediately sent an email to Sheila at Rock Salt and told her to give Amy the works and to bill me if Amy tried to pay with anything other than my company card.

Fifteen minutes later, Amy strolled into my office, gave me a kiss, and headed home like she should have done hours earlier.

* * * * *

“Have you seen this?” Bruce asked as he walked into my office the next day. I looked up, taken slightly off guard. It was a split-second reaction since Amy had the day off. Usually, she’d have buzzed me to let me know he needed to see me.

“Yeah, I can't believe that 360 would do that, but then again, I can.” I looked over the article that Bruce handed me, written from an inside view of a ‘get to know us’ party put on by Liam Rose, my competitor at 360.

“I would think when you’re spending this much money that these athletes would start to wonder where the money is coming from,” I said. “I’m all about spending on what’s necessary to get someone signed and celebrating that with our annual party, but to have several blowout parties like that? Too much risk of something going wrong and getting blamed for it.”

“You know they sent someone in to talk to that running back from Miami,” Bruce announced and shook his head. “Why the hell would they risk it?”

“I don't know, but you can bet if we know about it, then others do, too. Someone is going to take the fall for that, and I guarantee it won't be Liam.”

“You can bet your white ass it won't be him,” Bruce said with a laugh. “So, where do we stand on Rollins? Any word yet?” Bruce asked.

I sighed heavily and leaned back in my chair. Ryder Rollins. The man was going places. I just wished he’d take his cell phone with him when he did.

“That’s about the same,” I said. “I did talk to his dad. He assures me everything is on schedule.”

We chatted a little more about Ryder and details about the fight lined up. Ryder had primarily been a Vegas fighter, but I wanted him to fight at the Garden. He needed a wider fan base, and fighting at Madison Square Garden would increase our chances of getting Pay-per-view involved, and that would be even more money. And more money meant more exposure.

It was a delicious cycle of money, promotions, and exposure.