“What’re you doing here, Ray?” Leo walks into Guy’s office as I’m putting my stuff in a locker. “Thought you’d be spending the day with your man. Big fight tonight.”
I suck in a shaky breath. Big fight is right. That’s why I’m here on my day off. Jonah has to go to the training center, and there isn’t enough work left to do on the Impala to keep my head in a good place until tonight.
“Nah. He’s got official UFL stuff to do all day. I’m going to meet up with him after the fight.” I put on my most unaffected face and stroll past Leo into the garage. “What have we got?” I motion to the few cars in the bay.
“You can run a diagnosis on the Tahoe. Said it’s making some clinking noise. Check the alternator.” He goes back to working on a Toyota.
Greatest thing about working with guys, they never ask too many questions.
I start work on the Tahoe, my hands moving through the procedures, but my head wrapped up in tonight. Flutters of nervous energy turn my stomach and tighten my chest. My phone rings in my pocket, making me jump three feet in the air, and earning me a lowbrow look from Leo.
“Hey, Eve.” I greet my friend loud enough for Leo to hear. He rolls his eyes and disappears back beneath the hood of the car.
“Rave. Ugh, I’m so pissed right now.” Her voice sounds genuinely pissed, and she’s huffing and puffing like she’s just run a marathon.
“Why? Are you okay?” I head back to Guy’s office, close the door, and flop down in his chair.
“Hillary came in two nights ago with the stomach flu. I told her to take the night off, but did she listen? Noooo.” She grunts loudly and I hear something heavy drop. “So here I am, forty-eight hours later with six, six people short for dinner service tonight. On one of the busiest nights of the summer.”
I know where this conversation is going. My nervous flutter turns into a throbbing pound. She’s not coming.
“I have to work. There’s no way around it.”
Darn it.
“I understand. It’s a bummer, but you’re the manager. What can you do?”
“Um . . . I could kill that bitch Hillary for starters.” More banging.
“What are you doing? It sounds like you’re trashing your house.”
“Oh, what am I doing?” Her voice is high and dripping in sarcasm. “I’m setting up the bar. By myself! I have one bartender tonight. One! Man, I need a drink.”
I rub my forehead. How am I going to get through this night without my best friend?
“Where’s the after party?” Her question gets my attention.
“After party?”
“Well, yeah. Duh. The heavyweight champion throws an after party following a big win. Jeez, Rave, how long have you lived in this town?”
“Right. Um . . . okay.” There will be no big win, therefore, no after party, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“I’ll be off by eleven. Text me and I’ll meet you guys out. Just make sure to have Mr. Pecs-n-Abs put me on the list.”
Her mention of being put on the list reminds me of Vince. “Hey, have you heard from Vince?”
Her throat clears followed by an even bigger bang that has me pulling the phone from my ear. “Nope.”
One word answer. Translation: I don’t want to talk about it.
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
One word again.
“I’ll text you after the fight.”
“Sounds good. And Rave, I’m really sorry.”
“No worries. I’ll see you tonight.”
I end the call as a new layer of dread falls on my shoulders. At least I’ll have Katherine there with me. He’s going to lose this fight. Everyone will be devastated, but at least I’ll be free for us to be together. That’s all that matters.
I punch out a quick text to Jonah.
Eve called. Emergency at work. She’s not going to make it.
I’m holding the phone in my hand when it chimes seconds later. New text.
Sorry, baby. Ask Guy? xJ
I never thought to ask Guy. He’d love to go to a UFL championship fight, and I’d love the extra support, even if he has no clue what’s at stake.
Great idea! I love you.
I’m already dialing Guy’s phone number from the garage line when my phone chimes again.
His ticket will be at will call. See you in a few hours. I love you more. xJ
*
Jonah
My drive to the UFL Training Center is silent. Usually on fight day, I surround myself with deep, bass-hitting music. It always helps me to get pumped up, ready to destroy my opponent. Not today. I’m lost in the weight of my thoughts. My strategies for the fight play in my head on an endless loop.
Stay away from the jaw. Take him to the ground, lock him down. Keep moving. Do not get hit in the face.
My pulse pounds with adrenaline for the fight. But tonight I’m amped for a different reason.
After tonight, this mess with Dominick will be over. Raven will be free and clear to live a long happy life.