Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Lily
I knew what being late to work meant. Caden was going to go apeshit, only it had nothing to do with him having to cover for me at the front desk for less than an hour. In his twisted mind, the only reason I could possibly be fifty minutes late to work on a Friday morning was that I was sleeping with someone. It didn’t matter who. The waiter from dinner, the guy that politely and innocently opened the door for me at the coffee shop, or perhaps even the teller at the bank where I took too long to make a deposit the other day.
I don’t remember the exact moment the jealousy and possessiveness started. Maybe it was always there, only I was too desperate to see it. But by the time I opened my eyes, accusations were part of our daily routine. I guess it doesn’t help that I own a gym. A place filled with hulking men ramped up with too much testosterone. The place Caden also happens to spend most days training for his upcoming fight at the MMA Open.
Ralley’s Gyms were started by my Dad and his partner, Caden’s Uncle, Joe Ralley. The two men were best friends since they were kids. Both dedicated to the sport of fighting, my Dad made his name as a fighter and Joe as a professional trainer. Fifteen years ago my Dad, known to everyone in the fighting world only as “The Saint”, retired as Middleweight Champion of the US Boxing Conference. Capitalizing on his fame, and Joe’s talent as a trainer, the two best friends decided to open a gym dedicated to Mixed Martial Arts Training. At the time, the sport was just gaining national popularity and there were few gyms devoted to training fighters who wanted to go into MMA professionally. The dynamic duo’s gym took off as the sport grew rapidly. One gym turned into two, then four, then eighteen after only three years. Today, the Ralley name has the east coast fighter market locked up, operating sixty-two locations.
Reluctantly, I peer through the glass front door of the gym. I feel a sigh of relief that he’s not there. Sitting. Stewing. Waiting for me to walk in for a full onslaught inquisition. But the damn bells tied to the top of the door rattle loudly, even though I try my best to open the door quietly. Shit, I need to get rid of those things.
“Where you been?” Caden’s on me before my jacket is even fully off.
“I overslept. Sorry you had to cover for me.” Giving him a hesitant, forced smile, I shrug, trying to sound casual and grab the mail on the counter at the front reception desk.
“Then why didn’t your phone wake you? I called. You must have been too
busy
to pick up.” There’s no mistaking the anger in his voice and the bite of sarcasm at my being
busy
.
Digging my phone from my purse, I look at the screen finding eleven missed calls. All from Caden. A quick survey of the times tells me he was growing impatient. Fast. The first few calls were five minutes apart…the last few, less than a minute elapsed before he was hitting redial. “Sorry. I must’ve forgotten to turn the ringer back on last night. I went to class and then fell asleep.”
“You’re sorry for a lot this morning, aren’t you?”
I lower my voice, I really don’t want a scene. Not again. “Please don’t do this now, Caden. I went to class and then home. I didn’t hear my phone alarm go off for the same reason I didn’t hear your calls. My ringer was off. Don’t turn it into something more than it is.” I pause, deliberating my words for a few seconds. “And you need to stop acting like we’re still together, Caden.” I don’t want to be hurtful, but he needs more than a subtle reminder he has no right to question what I’m doing anymore. I know he’s nervous about his big fight coming up, so I’ve been treading lightly. Obviously lightly isn’t the right tactic.
Pete, Caden’s regular sparring partner, whistles from a distance. Caden looks torn between interrogating me more and getting back to his training. Lucky for me, a loud, impatient shout from Pete helps him make the decision, which earns me a reprieve. A temporary one, anyway.
Pointing an angry finger at me before leaving the front desk area, Caden warns, “This conversation isn’t over.” But it’s definitely over for me.
Even with my lateness, I’m able to get all my work done by the early afternoon. Caden may not be the right man for me, but over the last nine months, he’s done so much to make managing things easier. After my father’s heart attack, I was barely able to function, let alone keep up with the business of running sixty-two independently operated gyms. Caden’s uncle is a great guy, but managing the business end of things was Dad’s responsibility. Joe’s idea of keeping the books straight meant throwing receipts in a shoe box. Literally, a shoe box.
Reeling from the death of the only parent I’d ever known, I was lucky to have Caden. He computerized the books, set up a payroll system, and even got the trainer’s schedules online for customers to book. All while I was barely functioning. A state of shock had set in after my father’s unexpected death rendering me almost useless at work. Truly, I’m not sure what I would have done without him. I only wish things between us would have stayed professional. Getting involved with him romantically just happened. He wasn’t shy about wanting to be with me, and I, well, I didn’t say no. Devastated from the loss of a man who had been the center of my universe, I was desperate to fill a void. I thought Caden was the answer at the time. Boy was I wrong.
With Caden out for a few hours this afternoon at a meeting with his agent and fight promoter, and the phones oddly silent for a change, I’m able to get almost a solid hour of sketching in before the sound of a man’s voice startles me. Completely engrossed in my drawing, the deep, raspy sound takes me by surprise and I jump half out of my seat. Unfortunately,
half
out of your seat doesn’t end nearly as well as jumping
fully
out of your seat. Because I’m sitting Indian style, one leg gets stuck in the arm of the chair as my body jerks forward in reaction to the sound which catches me off guard. The momentum of my weight falling one way has the opposite reaction on the chair I’m still half sitting on. It tips backwards, falls to the floor, taking my leg with it. Of course, my entire body is forced to follow my leg. I land flat on my back. Somehow the chair I was entangled in, now on top of me.
“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to scare you,” says the deep voice that started this mess. Lifting the chair from on top of me, one large hand extends down, offering assistance, which I take, thoroughly embarrassed at my clumsiness.
Back on my feet, I right my clothes, pulling down my top, which seems to have sailed in the opposite direction when I tumbled down in a wholly unladylike fashion. Finally looking up to clearly see the face attached to the deep voice, my gaze is met by a tall, broad, extraordinarily beautiful man. Feeling flustered from the combination of falling off my chair and finding a devastatingly beautiful creature standing so close to me, I’m relieved to see my sketches strewn all over the floor. It allows me a minute to collect my wits. Reaching down, I begin to collect my papers, but beautiful man is a gentleman too. Crouching down to his knees, he helps gather the books and loose drawings that dislodged from my sketchbook.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.” Of course, now that I want the bells to sound, they’re no longer there…mostly because I untied them from the door the minute Caden left. Perhaps they really did serve a purpose other than just alerting Caden to my arrival.
Beautiful man smiles, “I didn’t just walk in, I’ve been here for hours. I was in the back with Marco.”
“Oh.”
Extending the papers he’s collected in my direction, he asks, “You drew these?”
I nod.
“All of them?” Beautiful man motions to the half dozen or so sketches he’s collected from the floor.
I nod again.
“Mind if I look?”
I shake my head no. He smirks, likely at my inability to form verbal responses. What the hell, did my little fall turn me into a mute?
As the stranger slowly studies my drawings, I slowly study him. Dirty blond hair, damp from a recent shower, cut short and styled haphazardly in a sexy
, I just got laid
kind of way. My eyes follow the chiseled line of his jaw from one side to the other. Michelangelo couldn’t have created a stronger male profile. Unable to stop myself, I chance a glance down lower to what appears to be an equally stunning carved physique beneath a thin white shirt straining slightly to cover his broad chest.
Taking more willpower than I care to admit, I force my eyes back to the man just as he looks back to me. Pale blue eyes peek out from beneath long, thick dark eyelashes, the raw beauty knocks the breath right out of me and I actually gasp a little. No man should be so stunning. He really requires a warning before he enters a room.
A slight uptick on the right side of his perfectly full lips tells me he knows the effect he has on me. I mean how can he not? What woman doesn’t this beautiful man affect at first glance?
“You’re good.” His deep voice is smooth, like running your hand across thick, plush velvet.
Brows furrowed, I haven’t a clue what he’s talking about. Mr. Beautiful chuckles a bit, realizing I’m lost. “Your drawings, they’re really good.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you show your work?”
“No. It’s just a hobby. I take a few art classes.”
“Well you’re good enough for it to be more than a hobby.”
“Oh, thank you.” I smile. “I’d love to draw you.” The statement blurts from my lips before my brain catches up. I slap my hand across my mouth in a lame, late attempt to try to stop the words, but it’s too late, they’re already out there.
He smiles, looking amused at my fumbling, and arches one eyebrow intrigued. “I’d love that.”
“You’d love what?” Caden’s angry voice booms from behind Mr. Beautiful. Taking that bell down really was a mistake. I seem to be oblivious to people coming and going today.
“Ummm.”
Mr. Beautiful turns, catching just a glimpse of the anger resonating from Caden. He throws me a lifeline, “I’m visiting for a few weeks. I have some business with Joe Ralley. I need to schedule some more times with Marco while I’m here. Miss…” he turns back in my direction, waiting for me to fill in the blank.
I do. “It’s Lily.”
“Lily.” He nods and the corner of his mouth twitches up just slightly, but I notice it. “Was going to work out a schedule for me.” He tilts his head and squints his eyes, a realization of some sort coming to him, he smiles. “You wouldn’t happen to be The Saint’s daughter, would you?”
Confused at how he would know, I answer, “I am.”
Caden takes a moment, looking between the two of us, assessing the situation. “I’ll schedule your trainer times. Lily has more important things to take care of.” His tone makes it obvious it’s not a suggestion, it’s been decided already.
“There’s nothing more important than helping our customers,” I admonish, turning to face Caden. His jaw tenses, eyes darkened with fury squint, and the vein in his neck throbs. He looks ready to explode. We stare at each other for a few seconds before I finally give in, blowing out a breath in frustration. “Fine,” I say before turning back to Mr. Beautiful. “Caden will set up your schedule. If you need anything else, just let me know.”
“Sounds good.” Mr. Beautiful extends his hand in Caden’s direction. “Jackson,” he offers to Caden, but turns his head to me with a grin.
Caden hesitates, but eventually clasps the man’s hand with a curt nod. “Caden Ralley.”
I was supposed to be at the restaurant five minutes ago, yet here I am lining my eyes with a thick, smoky gray pencil as if I’m an hour early. I finish my makeup, checking my face in the mirror and liking the results. It’s been a while since I’ve had the urge to girly myself up. I’ve always liked clothes, the way the right pencil skirt and strappy shoes can lift my mood, making me feel like a beautiful woman instead of the gym rat I’ve let my appearance turn into over the last few months.
I smile as I look in the mirror, remembering the last business meeting I went to with Joe and my dad. A protein powder rep had invited us out, hoping to convince us to sell his line of products in our gyms. Everything was going well, until the poor salesman paid me an innocent compliment. “You look so different than when we met at the gym,” he commented, his tone reflecting
different
was meant in a good way.
“Thank you.” I motioned to my fancy shoes with the dangerously thin high heel. “These two don’t like it when my stilettos put holes in the floor mats.”
“Well you’re beautiful either way. But the shoes…,” the salesman trailed off into a low catcall whistle, “…the shoes are sexy as hell.”
Dad signed on with the competing protein powder company the next morning.
Fashionably late by more than a half hour, I finally make it to Osteria Madena, Joe’s favorite Italian restaurant. It’s small, everyone squeezed together so tightly the waiters have to be thin just to fit between the tables. I look around the packed room, not finding Joe and the man we’re supposed to be meeting at first glance. I check my watch, hoping they didn’t leave. I’m late, but nothing Joe isn’t used to by now.
“Ahh…the beautiful Bambino. There she is.” Fredo, the owner of the restaurant kisses both my cheeks. Dad, Joe and I have been coming here for years, a signed picture of my dad hangs proudly over the bar. He clasps both my hands and pulls back to examine me. “You’re too skinny, my bella donna! Tonight…tonight we feed you a big plate of pasta, no? Fredo fatten you up a bit, yes?”
I smile, knowing I’m getting pasta, even if I order chicken. “Is Joe here? I’m supposed to meet him, but I don’t see him around.”
“Yes, yes. Mr. Joe is at the bar waiting for you. Come.” Fredo takes my hand and walks me to the other side of the bar that wasn’t visible from the entry where I was standing.
Joe stands when he sees me. “You look lovely.” He kisses my cheek then shakes his head. “And you should considering how long you kept us waiting.”
“Sorry. I lost track of time,” I offer, noticing an empty seat next to Joe. “Did I miss the broker?”
“No, he just stepped away to take a call. Actually, here he is now.” Joe motions behind me.
I turn ready to apologize for my lateness, but I’m stopped in my tracks when my eyes fall on Mr. Beautiful from the gym today.
“Jackson Knight, this is my partner, Lily St. Claire,” Joe makes the obligatory introduction.
Jackson lifts a brow, a slow smirk tipping one corner of his mouth. “We’ve met.” He shakes my hand, not letting go right away. His eyes make a quick sweep of me from head to toe and I arch an eyebrow when his eyes make their way back to mine, letting him know I’ve watched him check me out. Instead of being embarrassed at being caught, Jackson’s smirk turns to a full, panty-dropping smile. Seriously? Ridiculously handsome
and
cocky.
“Sorry I’m late,” I muster when he eventually releases my hand.
“No problem. I’m sure you have a lot of important things to do.” Jackson grins, referencing Caden’s comment from earlier.
“I didn’t realize you two had met already?” Joe interrupts.
“We met at the gym today,” I explain to Joe, my gaze never leaving Jackson as I speak. “Jackson failed to mention that he was your business broker, Mr. Knight.”
“Did I fail to mention that?” Jackson flirts knowingly.
“I’m pretty sure you did.” I quirk an eyebrow and smile.
“Hmmm, maybe I did. I seem to recall we were interrupted.”
Fredo reappears out of nowhere, taking my hand. “Come. We feed you now. Si?” He looks back to Jackson as we begin walking. “She’s molto bello, yes?”
“Absolutely. Stunningly so,” he adds to Fredo’s
very beautiful
compliment spoken in Italian.
“But she’s too skinny, si? Tonight we plump her up with some homemade carbonara. Yes?” He doesn’t wait for a response before showing us to our table. It’s the best table in the restaurant, the far left corner, one of the few places where there’s room between tables.
Jackson pulls my chair out for me to sit, waiting until I’m seated to take the seat next to me.
“I bring more vino and we make special dishes for our special customers.” Fredo disappears.
“I guess we don’t need to look at the menu then?” Jackson asks amused.
“You can if you want. But if Fredo doesn’t like what you pick, he’s only going to change it anyway.”
Fifteen minutes later, Fredo brings more food than three people could ever eat. As promised, a heaping serving of fettuccine carbonara is placed in front of me. The three of us talk throughout our meal, the conversation flowing as easily as the wine.
Jackson Knight is the owner of Knight Investments, the firm that put together a group of silent investors interested in buying half of Ralley’s Gyms so Joe can retire. Joe took Dad’s death almost as hard as I did. It made him think twice about all the hours he works, instead of spending time with his family. I’m glad he is going to retire, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified at the thought of losing him on a day-to-day basis.
I groan when Fredo has a huge tray of desserts delivered to our table. I’m stuffed, but the chocolate cake here is out of this world. I can’t resist at least a taste.
“He seems to be pretty intent on packing you with calories,” Jackson says as the table fills with deliciousness.
“Apparently I’ve lost a few pounds and he’s determined to help me find them to fix my body.”
Joe is busy talking with Fredo so he doesn’t catch Jackson’s response. “You look pretty perfect to me.” He says directly into my eyes and then they drop, roaming over my body slowly before returning his gaze to mine. “There’s nothing you need to fix.”
Flustered, I change the subject. “So why didn’t you mention you were coming?” I fork a piece of the chocolate cake.
“I thought I’d check out how things ran, without knowing anyone was watching.” He pauses, then adds, “For the investors. You find out a lot more about a business when you drop in and get treated like any other client. Since the funding is coming from a group of anonymous investors with limited voting rights, I handle the due diligence and report back.” Jackson lifts his fork and motions to the cake in front of me. “You mind?”
“By all means, help yourself. It’s less that I’ll have to run off tomorrow.” He grins and forks a piece of the cake sitting in front of me. I watch a little too intently as he swallows, riveted by the sight of his throat working.
“Some things you get one taste of and want to consume the whole thing.” Jackson’s voice brings my focus back from his throat.
Trying to ignore how truly sexy his voice is, I respond looking away. “Yes, the chocolate cake here is out of this world.”
“That too.” Jackson replies, his eyes sparkling mischievously.
The two men argue over paying the bill and then our conversation goes back to business for a few minutes more before we leave.
“So tell me, Lily, what’s your biggest concern about the investment group buying out Joe’s half of the gym?” Jackson asks pointedly.
I think for a minute. “It’s important to me to keep my dad’s vision for the gyms. He didn’t want them turned into generic exercise gyms just to grow membership. The focus needs to stay on training fighters. I guess I’m concerned the focus of the investors won’t be the same. I know we’re doing this with silent investors who will have limited voting rights, they’re basically becoming stockholders, but it still makes me nervous bringing in any outsiders.”
Jackson nods. “That’s good to know. I’ve been training at the Ralley’s in D.C. for years and it’s one of the things that set the gym apart from other places. It would be shortsighted to turn the gyms into something else. Chains of exercise gyms come and go. The members aren’t loyal because there are a dozen places they can get the same service. Ralley’s is different, and if it stays different, it can continue growth with the sport. Joe and I spoke a bit about the cash flow shortage Ralley’s has been having lately. It isn’t uncommon for businesses that grow fast to feel some growing pains. Hopefully having investors with deep pockets will also give you some relief from relying on the banks too much.”
It’s a relief to know at least someone involved in the buyout understands what makes Ralley’s so special. The worries that keep me up at night. “I’m glad you understand Ralley’s. It’s more than just a business to me. To us.”
Jackson nods. “Do you have management lined up to help out? One of the drawbacks in doing a silent investor deal is your new partner doesn’t take on any of the responsibility of the day to day operations.”
“I’m still figuring that part out,” I say cryptically. Joe and I need to have a long conversation about Caden’s involvement once he leaves. I’m not sure he is the right person for the job anymore. He’s a bit too hotheaded and his people skills aren’t the greatest, to put it mildly.
We talk for a little while more about our long-term vision for Ralley’s. I’m impressed at how much Jackson knows and how easily he seems to comprehend my concerns. Eventually we say our goodbyes to Fredo and walk outside into the warm, late summer evening. “How long are you in town, Jackson?” Joe asks as he hails a cab for us. I only live a few blocks away, but I learned long ago that Joe will never let me walk home in the dark alone.
“I’m not sure yet. The bank is coming in to go through the books next week, so a couple of weeks at least.”
A cab pulls up at the curb. “I’ll be going out of town for a few days while you’re here. But I’m sure Lily will take good care of you.” The two men shake hands.
Jackson turns to me, a seductive smile warming me inside and out. He leans in to say goodnight as Joe opens the cab door and speaks to the driver. “I look forward to you taking good care of me,” he whispers and kisses my cheek. I climb inside the car before he can see the heat spreading across my face.
The next day when I come in, I scour the gym, trying not to make it obvious who I’m looking for. When my gaze finds the man I’m hoping to see again, he’s jumping rope at warp speed, but his eyes are locked on me already. Feeling flustered for being caught, I practically run back to the reception area. Throughout the day, I sneak a few glances at Jackson as he works out. A few times he catches me and smiles. Luckily, Caden doesn’t notice. The last thing I need is another scene in the gym.
Freshly showered after his workout, I’m grateful Caden is already gone when Mr. Beautiful stops at the front desk on his way out. His hair damp and a towel around his neck, he’s certainly a feast for the eyes. Although his body looks sufficiently trained, something about him doesn’t seem to fit with the guys that usually train at Ralley’s. He’s different, and it’s not just that he’s devoid of tattoos on his arms and scars on his face. Something in the way he speaks and carries himself sets him apart from the normal fighters I see.
“So, I have to admit, I thought you would be different than you are based on our emails over the last few months.” I say to Jackson, trying to ignore the effect that seeing his damp, freshly exercised body has on me. We’ve emailed back and forth a lot over the last few months. I provided reports he requested and answered questions about Ralley’s to help him put together the offering to attract investors. But our communications have been strictly professional. He was all business, nothing like the playful demeanor of the man before me.
“What did you think I would be like?” he asks, setting his bag on the floor.
“I don’t know. Just different. Older I guess.” I smile. “You’re much friendlier in person.”
“So my emails are old and unfriendly?” he teases.
“I didn’t say that. They just come off more formal. That’s probably why I thought you were older.”
“Well I hope you like the real thing better than what you imagined.”
I laugh. “Yes, I do.”
“Good. Anything else you’ve imagined about me that I can work on beating your expectation of?”
I flush. I’ve imagined more than I care to share, but I don’t want to let on that he’s been infiltrating my thoughts since I laid eyes on him yesterday. “Are you always such a flirt?” I tilt my head and ask coyly.
“This isn’t flirting,” he responds with a sexy grin.
“It’s not? Then what would you call it?”
His eyes glimmer. “Foreplay.”
I roll my eyes and laugh off the comment as playful. Although the heat in his eyes makes me think he really isn’t kidding. It makes my stomach flutter and my palms sweaty. Growing up surrounded by alpha males who speak their minds, it generally takes a lot for me to embarrass. Yet something about the way he looks at me when he speaks makes me feel like a teenage girl.
I try to force our conversation back to the gym. I’ve mixed business with pleasure enough lately, learning my lesson the hard way. “Well, how do you like our gym, Jackson?” I ask, trying hard to keep my eyes trained on his and not ogle the plethora of beauty south of his magnetic blue eyes. He’s cocky enough, I don’t need to give him anymore ammunition.
“I think I’m going to like it here.” His wry grin speaks volumes and it leaves me feeling like his statement has little to do with his actual training.
“People call me Jax, by the way.”
“Not Jackson?”
“My friends call me Jax.”
“So we’re going to be friends then?” I tease.
“I hope so.” His smile widens.
“I noticed you didn’t tell Caden to call you Jax yesterday.”
“Something tells me Caden and I aren’t going to be friends.” My new friend arches an eyebrow and grins a devilish grin. He slings his bag diagonally across his shoulder. “I have to run for a video conference call. You here tomorrow?”
“I’m here almost every day.”
“See you tomorrow then, Lily.” Jax smiles and walks out the door.