Page 52 of New Girl in the City
I raised my eyebrows at his use of‘my woman.’I didn’t hate it, even if it was a little caveman. I kept my mouth shut and walked closer to him. The man at the door nodded at us, his eyes briefly moving over me before they were gone again, and he waved us in.
“Upstairs and to the right, Princess,” Liam’s voice was low and near my ear, he had bent down to speak to me because inside it was a whole different world.
Here it was loud and bright, the inside a playground of modern chicness that really and truly had me rubbing my eyes to see if I was seeing right. This could have been any trendy night club, and if I hadn’t known better, I would have been at home flagging down a server to order a martini. It was all white inside, with glass and chrome accents. There were even elegant spots featuring fire pits springing up from glass. Bright lights overhead illuminated the space, showing the entire space as airy and open. A bar lined the side of one wall with mixologists. I watched them making drinks with flair and precision that looked equal parts magic and delicious. I hoped I could grab one of those on the way, but when Liam directed me towards the stairs at the back I didn’t think I would have the chance. A crowd of well-dressed people that looked more at home at a museum gala, or Broadway opening milled about the open space. There was no shortage of money and wealth on display in the warehouse. Couches and lounging areas were in one area, an area with soft gauzy hangings that made it look like a beach cabana, not the site of an underground fight.
The only thing that gave away the true purpose was the giant steel cage in the middle of it all. At the center was a mat, a mat that looked like it’d already seen blood that night. My hand tightened on Liam’s.
“Don’t worry, Princess. It’s all just a show,” he told me. I looked back at him with a dubious expression and he gave me a chagrined smile, adding, “mostly.”
I didn’t say anything and instead focused on the metal stairs beneath my feet. Up and up we went until we hit a hallway with a series of doors along the length of it. This area was definitely not glitzy but was dark with concrete floors and black walls. Liam nudged me ahead of him, his hand at the small of my back as we walked. I wasn’t sure where we were going or how far we would until he stopped me with a slight tap on my back.
“Here,” he said, reaching around me to open a door that looked as nondescript as the rest of the doors in the hallway. Again, I was surprised because this room was not unlike the space below. It was glamorous and built for comfort despite its utilitarian look on the outside. The room was long and reminded me of VIP box seats at any sporting event. Instead of a wall, one side of the long room was glass fronted and I saw that it offered a perfectly unobscured view of the main events downstairs. There was a bar up here too, the floors were gleaming high polished wood with comfortable and plush seating available for anyone that might want to make use of them. Servers wandered among the room’s occupants, though there weren’t nearly as many here as there were downstairs. Liam led me to a small two-person sofa beside the glass window and sat me down. He knelt in front of me and smiled up at me.
“I’m gonna go down and get ready. I’ll be out in fifteen, tops. Just stay here and order a drink, Princess. Enjoy it and I’ll see you after, yeah?”
He had that same nervous light in his eyes that made him look open and vulnerable. Things I didn’t much think a fighter should be, so I nodded at him and leaned down kissing him deeply, but briefly. Liam pulled back and chuckled.
“Gotta stay focused. I’ll get my hands on you after the fight. Not before.”
I rolled my eyes at him and settled back on the comfortable couch. “Spoilsport,” I told him, though I was smiling. He leaned in and kissed my cheek.
“I’ll be back. Don’t talk to anyone you don’t want. Someone bothers you, give that big guy by the door, a wave. His name is Al. He’ll take care of it.” He said all of this quietly and quickly to me so that no one else heard it, I nodded at him.
“Got it, boss.”
He pressed his lips together in consideration and stood, pointing a finger at me. “I think I like that. Let’s keep that on your brain for tonight, Princess.”
I flushed. I liked that. I liked that a whole hell of a lot.
“Sure thing, sweet cheeks,” I shot back.
He paused, considering that as he walked backwards, still facing me towards the door. “I like that too. Add them both to the list,” he said with a wave of his hand.
“Give ‘em hell!” I called to him, unable to stop myself. I was aware that I’d attracted a few eyes at that, but Liam didn’t pay them any mind. Instead, he gave me a wink goodbye and turned towards the door, clapping the man I now knew as Al on the shoulder on his way out. Al nodded in my direction and I was certain Liam had given him instructions to keep an eye on me. It made me feel better. I pushed up from my seat and made my way to the bar and ordered the martini I had been craving downstairs. I’d only just given my order for ‘extra dirty’ when a man appeared at my side.
“Scotch. Make it a double.”
I glanced his way. The order was normal, something any man would order, but it was his voice that caught my attention. It was a voice that I hadn’t heard in years, one that I had never thought I might hear again.
The aquiline nose, the profile that I would recognize anywhere. Salt and pepper in hair that used to be jet black. His skin was still a lovely gold, his eyes the same startling blue that I remembered. This man looked great. He took care of himself, and he always had.
I knew that because I’d known him intimately. Had thought I was going to spend my forever with him.
It was Martin.
My ex-husband of all the damn people in the world was next to me. How was this my luck? I swallowed hard and kept my eyes on the bartender’s hands as they mixed my drink and set it in front of me. I murmured my thanks, picked up my drink and turned on my heel making a beeline for my seat. Even if I hadn’t been on a date, I had no desire to speak to my ex-husband. I slid into my seat and kept my eyes on the cage below me. Except that fate, like life, had other plans. Martin had followed me.
I knew it the second I saw someone come into my periphery. Though I had felt him before that. Knew it the second his stupid eyes had hit me on my way back to my seat.
Damn it. Now what?
“Enjoying the fight?” he asked, voice conversational as if he hadn’t been married to me and utterly fucked me up for romance and believing in happily-ever-afters for nearly a decade.
I nodded, deciding that not speaking was the best option. I took a sip of my martini. If I was drinking, then I wasn’t speaking. Aside from that, Martin made a woman drink.
“The main event tonight features a very promising fighter, incredibly talented, though on the younger side. I suspect he will only improve with age,” he continued on, as if we were having a conversation and I wasn’t just sitting there silently with my face in my martini.
I made a noncommittal sound from behind my cocktail glass and turned my head away, but I knew the jig was up when Martin hummed and pulled over a seat so that he was beside me. Not close enough to bring the big man by the door running, but close enough that I had to look at him.
