Page 54 of New Girl in the City
“No? Well, I don’t really give a shit,” Martin replied. I looked at him then with a glare.
“Good thing I don’t give a shit what you think.”
“Do you know how much your boy toy is going to make me tonight? He’s the best fighter I’ve ever seen, that’s all he is to me,” Martin flicked a finger towards the ring below us, “he’s the one that’s going to win in that ring. He’s going to make me richer than I already am.”
My breath caught before I looked away with a jerk of my head. “I don’t want to know any of this, Martin.” And it was true. I didn’t.
I was just sitting here, trying to get used to dipping my toe into Liam’s world. That mattered to me. It was everything. What didn’t count for shit was Martin telling me how much cash he was going to make off of Liam.
“Thought you might be happy for me. Things sure are nice in my world, Mel.”
I kept watching the fight below. Liam was blocking a blow, his arm flexing and absorbing the hit before he came forward, a leg coming up to deliver a kick right to the other man’s chest, sending him stumbling back. Liam had been on the defense, but now he was charging ahead, fists swinging. One punch connected with the man’s side and he tried a kick of his own, but Liam caught it, jerking the man’s leg up against his side before he swung, clocking the man’s chin. His opponent’s head snapped back, and that was all there was to it. I didn’t know much about fighting, but I knew a knockout when I saw one.
My hands came up to cover my mouth. Liam dropped the man’s leg, shoving him away. His opponent hit the mat like a ton of bricks.
“A lot of money, Mel. I should thank him. Want to introduce us?”
My fingers clenched, nails biting into my skin. I bit my lips so hard I tasted blood. I stood then and didn’t look at him.
“You don’t talk to him,” I snapped, eyes on Liam, his hand raised over his head in victory. The referee was announcing the winner over the speakers, his voice loud and filling the room.
“Our winner, and the night’s victor of 175,000 dollars is Liam Conlon! Let’s hear it, ladies and gentlemen for our fight night champion!”
“What is he?” Martin asked, joining me at the window and sipping at his scotch with a chuckle, “Twenty-five? Did he graduate college?”
I continued to stare down at the cage where Liam was shaking hands with his opponent and having his photo taken. The crowd had already nearly moved on, their attention pulled away from the center stage by a scantily clad woman on a strip of silk who was treating them to an acrobatic show. Okay, I’d never been to a cage fight, but I was pretty sure this was the classiest fucking cage fight in New York City.
“So he’s what, almost a decade younger than you? And from the car I saw you two come here in...” I looked at him then, eyes wide, “oh, you look surprised, Mel. Please don’t look at me like that. I always hated it.”
“What do you mean the car you saw me come here in? How do you know what car I came here in?”
“I knew you were in the city. I like to keep tabs. Imagine my surprise when I found out you’ve been fucking your driver,” he clucked his tongue at me in chastisement, “the whole thing isdéclassé, Melinda. I thought better than you.”
A fire burned in my chest. I could have kicked him as squarely as I’d seen Liam do moments before.
“I don’t care what you think. I haven’t since we signed those divorce papers, and honestly, Martin, I never should have given a fuck what a dirty old man like you thought of me for one second of my life.”
“Dirty old man, hmm? What do you think people are going to say when they find out about you and him? How is it any different than it was with us?”
“It’s different because I care about him. I’m not going to use him and drop him the second I catch sight of something newer and better.”
“You say that now but…” he let his voice trail off. He sipped from the glass in his hand, “we’ll see what you say when he isn’t so exciting anymore. That happened with us, you know. You were, and still are, a beautiful woman. But looks can only compensate for so much. Talk to me when he’s not winning fights, when you don’t feel like you’re taking a walk on the wild side by getting into bed with him. When you realize you have nothing in common with him to keep you interested.”
“Whatever, Martin.” I turned away, not caring what he was saying anymore. Martin’s words left a sour taste in my mouth. I had never been more than a pretty face to him, and he’d just confirmed it, but I found it didn’t sting like it once had. It couldn’t, not when I was falling for Liam. Not when what I felt for him was genuine and heartfelt. This was nothing like what I’d foolishly believed I’d had with Martin. The fighters left the ring and I knew he would be coming upstairs any minute now.
I wasn't a real big fan of him walking in on me and my ex-husband. One that I hadn’t even had the chance to bring up. That’s just how new things were between us, and goddamn Martin for ruining my time with Liam and making it about him. Where did he even get off saying he’d kept tabs on me?
I whirled back towards him and pointed. “You’re keeping tabs on me? What the hell does that even mean? Why would you do that?”
“I take care to know where my things are.” he returned.
“I’m not your thing. I do not belong to you, Martin. I never did.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You’re stalking me? You just admitted to it. You better knock it the fuck off before I make you regret it.”
He leaned down, putting his half empty glass of scotch on the table. “And how exactly are you going to do that?”
“She isn’t going to,” Liam’s voice sounded, and I froze. This is exactly what I hadn’t wanted. Shit, shit shittttt.“But I am.”
I turned to see Liam, his hair wet, duffle bag over his shoulder, and the same look in his eyes that he’d had when entering the ring. He was still in what I was quickly coming to think of as his “war mode,” and he was focusing all of that on Martin. I came forward into his line of sight and held out a hand to him.
