He turned back to the bar and ordered another shot. A voluptuous blonde took position and smiled at Fenton with bright red lips.
"Aren't you going to say anything?" I asked. "Really? You're going with the silent treatment? What if I say that I want to believe you? It was an awkward situation. It seemed personal
and I did not want to let something personal get in the way of the business I have with Jackson. Come on, you don't have anything to say about that?"
Fenton shrugged. "Actions speak louder than words." He leaned down over the blonde's bare midriff and savored the second shot. He made a big show out of sucking the lime wedge from her fire engine red lips, but when he looked up, I was staring over the top of them.
On the wall, almost a story high, was a slideshow of Mario's rise to the top. Fenton's loss was heavily featured and now I knew why he wanted to add a photograph of me. The sharp cuts and close-ups of Fenton's first loss to Peretti were all psychological warfare meant to shake his confidence. My picture would surface soon enough.
"Well hopefully reason speaks louder than photographs," I said. "I can explain."
It was too late, Fenton turned around just in time to see the wall-sized shot of Mario kissing me full on the lips. My hands that had been raised to ward him off actually looked like I was embracing him.
I grabbed his shoulder. "Please, Fenton, you have to believe me."
"Like you believed me?" he asked. He did not even glance at me. Fenton yanked his shoulder away and strode across the dance floor to call Peretti out.
The crowd burst into excited chatter and the music stopped. Fenton shoved him as soon as Peretti turned around and for a moment it looked as if the fight would happen right there on the dance floor. The crowd backed away and the two were left in a wide circle.
I tried to push my way in, but the crowd was too tight and too excited to move. Kev appeared at my side and stopped me.
"Fenton knows it was just a prank. It's all part of the show," Kev said.
"Are you sure? I screwed everything up. What was I supposed to do?" I asked him.
"How about conducting your business over the phone or email like every other agent?" Kev asked.
Peretti puffed out his chest and was strutting around Fenton getting the crowd riled up. Fenton answered with a hard shove that deflated Peretti's chest. Security burst into the circle to haul them both back. Instead of de-escalating the situation, the fight promoter handed Peretti a microphone.
"A fighter's got to keep a cool head and it seems Fenton Morris is ready to lose his again," Peretti said.
Half the crowd cheered and half howled with rage.
"I know that ladies love a man with self-control, with focus, with the ability to see things through to the very end," Peretti said. He shook off the security guards and roamed around half the circle, encouraging the crowd to choose sides. "It’s not my fault if Fenton's woman wants the same thing."
I cringed when the wall-sized photograph reappeared. Fenton fought off his security guards and got right back into Peretti's face. Peretti held the microphone away, but the rough tone of Fenton's voice made his message clear.
"You'll have your turn," Peretti said, leaning back to speak into the microphone. "And when you do, you better apologize to your woman. She's gotta be unsatisfied if she came to me."
Fenton lunged and knocked the microphone from Peretti's hand with a sharp slice of his hand. The crowd cheered and the security guards swarmed the two fighters again. This time, when they ebbed back, it was Fenton who had the microphone.
"Some people become fighters because they think the lifestyle looks cool," he said. "I didn't become a fighter, I was born fighting. I had to fight for everything. I had to fight to keep my family together. I had to fight to keep my sister safe at school. I had to fight to keep food on our table. What I never did was fight to keep my focus. I wanted better from day one, and I'll be damned if I let some strutting scum distract me from that."
The crowd heckled him, egging him on, hoping for more trash talk or maybe another sneak preview at the fight.
"I have no reason to talk about Mario Peretti's skills as a fighter. I have no reason to talk about Mario Peretti at all. He doesn't matter to me, the title does. I know Vegas is confusing, there's hype all around. But I guarantee tomorrow, Peretti's hype isn't going to follow him into the ring. It'll be just us, and the better man will win."
"What about your girl?"
"You just gonna let him take your woman?"
"Come on, Morris, you can't take that lying down!"
The crowd heckled him more, and the wall-sized photograph of our kiss appeared again. Peretti bounced around with his fists in the air then blew air kisses at the crowd. Then, he directed the spotlight toward me.
Kev tried to help me duck away from it, but the hot light blinded me. The crowd around me surged back and then forward. Hands shoved me toward the open circle where Peretti and Fenton waited. I lost grip of Kev's hands and was pushed along, helpless until I was in the open.
Peretti bounced over and reached out to embrace me. Without thinking, I batted away his hands and spun to avoid him. The crowd went wild. The spotlight still blinded me, and I tried to find Fenton. Suddenly, a strong arm locked around my waist. Peretti was pushed far away.