As soon as the first kick hit her opponent’s leg, my thoughts had once again wandered to Vanessa. What is it about her that draws me in? I’d like to think it was more than her beauty because after that meal at the diner she was all I could think about. My shrink would probably say some stupid shit like it was because she understood my grief and the feelings of loneliness and guilt. Well, he would if I ever shared any of this with him.
Vanessa was my secret. My dream. She was the bright spot in my life that I refused to share with anyone. At least until there was anything worthy of sharing.
Enough about Vanessa. As much as I liked to daydream about her, House of Ashby was paying me to focus on my trainees. I shook my head and narrowed my eyes on Rachel’s form. I saw something I didn’t like, something that marred her perfection and needed adjustment.
I called into the ring, “Relax, Rachel!”
She tended to panic on the ground, her one downfall, because every one of her opponents knew it. So far, her quick hands and faster feet had saved her when it mattered, but every fighter knew, as did every solider, eventually you found yourself in exactly the wrong position at exactly the wrong time.
“Relax!” I repeated in case she hadn’t heard me.
Two seconds later, Rachel dropped her tense shoulders, which gave her more control and managed to maneuver her partner into a submission.
Exactly what I wanted.
“Relaxed enough for ya?” That cocky smile was back, and I was confident she was almost there. Almost.
“Finally, yeah” I said. But I couldn’t let Rachel get over-confident. “Jimenez won’t give you those extra two seconds though. You have to keep on top of your game.”
Her smile dimmed just a little bit at the reprimand, but Rachel gave me a short nod. She knew as well as I did, it was the truth.
“She won’t need to,” she said, her voice low and lethally serious as she toweled off her glistening brow.
I acknowledged her with a quick salute. That was my girl. “Again,” I said. “Another round.”
After a quick water break, the women squared off once again, and my thoughts turned back to Vanessa.
I had to focus on something else. Anything else. I couldn’t obsess over a woman who still mourned another man. Vanessa’s guilt weighed so heavily on her that only friendship was possible right now. I knew that. I was okay with it.
But still, thoughts of her filled my mind. I was a man after all.
The session ended with my trainees showing gratifying progress but no resolution for my growing desire for Vanessa. I began shutting down the gym for the night, my discipline for keeping the House of Ashby tight as a drum helping me concentrate on something other than the beautiful widow.
Rachel waved as she headed for the door. “See you later, Em. Hope you finally get laid tonight.” Speaking of discipline, she was always the last person other than me at House of Ashby after nine o’clock on a Saturday night.
“Yeah, yeah. Put some ice on that lip,” I told her and got a two-handed ‘screw you’ for my efforts.
An hour later, the gym was clean and ready for the next day. I locked up and planned to head straight home. What was that saying about making plans? Watch the universe laugh at you? I knew the saying involved God, but I stopped believing in him a long damn time ago. I figured if there was anyone or anything to blame, it was the general nature and chaos of the universe. And when my phone rang as I started my car, I knew it was chaos and not some celestial force.
“What’s up, Ma?” No matter how many times I tried to think of her as Cheryl, I couldn’t help but call her Mom.
She coughed for a good fifteen seconds before she was able to form actual words. “Is that any way to greet your mama?”
I rolled my eyes and started driving because I knew this call would require a face to face visit. “Does that mean you’re just calling to check in? To see how I’m doing?”
“You’re fine,” she said. “You’re always fine.” Which meant she was about to tell me all the ways she wasn’t fine and how I could fix it.
“You planning on fighting again? I got some friends who could make some good money betting on you.”
Yeah, I bet she did. It was another reason I was happy to work as a trainer. Between the Ashby family and my biological family, there were too many strings attached to me stepping into the ring again. And I wasn’t willing to get my brains scrambled again for any of it.
“I’m outside,” I told her.