FIGHT NIGHT #1: Three Story MMA Romance Bundle (12 page)

 
Chapter Eleven

Toni

Toni had been embarrassed enough
before
Delwood had come marching over. The appearance of Hannibal’s loud-mouthed manager just made it worse.

“Delwood, honey, Baller was just blowin’ off steam,” she said, hoping to shut this thing down before it got blown any further out of proportion.

Hannibal, to his credit, fell lock-step into that answer.

“I didn’t like Limey here mackin’ on my girl.” He slurped his drink. “But it’s cool, Woody. We all cool here.” He snorted derisively. “I whipped his ass earlier – he ain’t gonna start nothing.”

Toni looked across as James when she heard that – looking for his reaction.

The kilt-wearing fighter took it like he’d taken Hannibal’s punches for five rounds – on the chin.

He said nothing.

Grabbing Taffy’s elbow, James pulled his trainer away, giving Toni a disappointed look as he went.

*              *              *

Situation defused, the crowd that had gathered started to disperse. The music got turned back up, and things returned to whatever ‘normal’ was at a star-studded celebrity event like this.

Delwood took the opportunity to guide Toni and Hannibal towards the corner of the club, out of earshot.

“What the fuck was that, Baller?” he snapped at his client.

“Yo,” now out of earshot of the crowd, Hannibal didn’t hold back. “That Limey prick was making the moves on my girl…”

“We were just
talking
, Baller,” Toni rolled her eyes.

“Oh, just
talking
? What business have you got talking to
him
?”

“
Jesus
, Baller,” Toni rolled her eyes again. “Chill the fuck out.”

Hannibal didn’t like that. Grabbing her elbow, he pulled his girlfriend close and hissed at her: “How do you think it looks? Are you
trying
to embarrass me?”

Angrily, Toni pulled her arm free.

“You’re doing that
yourself
,” she snapped. “For fuck’s sake. We were just
talking.
”

“Yeah, well I don’t like that Limey prick talking to anybody.” Hannibal sniffed. “Fucker’s got some nerve even showing his face here tonight.”

“He didn’t have much choice, Baller,” Delwood growled. “He’s contractually obliged to – just like
you two
are
.”

The MMA league made sure to stick clauses like that in the contracts for these big events – so corporate sponsors and network bigwigs could rub shoulders with the fighters and other celebrities.

But some took these responsibilities more seriously than others.

“Yeah, well, I showed my face. We’re
out
.” Hannibal grabbed Toni’s elbow and dragged her towards the door.

She wrenched him to a halt.

“I ain’t going
nowhere
, Baller,” she hissed.

Her boyfriend didn’t like that. Wheeling around he stared down at Toni and growled: “What did you just say?”

Pint-sized and fearless, Toni stood her ground.

“I said I ain’t going nowhere.” She looked at Delwood. “There’s a $5,000 penalty if we duck out of here early, right.”

Delwood nodded.

“Five grand?” Hannibal rolled his eyes. “So fucking what?”

Toni glowered at him.

With his sponsorship deals and fight-night money, five grand was nothing to Hannibal “Baller” Alexander. But to her? It was one step closer to paying off the mortgage on her mom’s house back home in Compton.

“Fucking
fine
,” Hannibal growled, seeing the determination in her eyes. “Fucking stay here. See if I care.” But then he looked up, across the room, to where James MacDonald was standing. “But you don’t talk to him, right? You don’t even fucking
look
at him.”

And, with that, Hannibal turned on his heel and marched towards the exit – ignoring the camera flashes and microphones shoved in his face as he walked out of the door.

Toni watched him go, butterflies churning in her stomach.

Chapter Twelve

Toni

Hannibal had warned her: “But you don’t talk to him, right? You don’t even fucking
look
at him.”

You don’t tell a girl like Toni
not
to do something.

As she watched her boyfriend out of the windows, clambering into the chauffeur-driven Cadillac and driving away, a flash of indignant inspiration fizzled through Toni’s brain.

She turned and looked out across the nightclub, immediately spotting who she was looking for.

James MacDonald – standing chat-chatting with corporate sponsors, looking tall and handsome in his kilt and crisp, white shirt.

With a sniff, Toni headed in his direction.

“Yo!” Another hand wrapped around her elbow, stopping her mid-stride.

Toni’s eyes flashed and she snapped around, to find Delwood standing there with a worried expression on his face.

He was still clutching her elbow. Toni swallowed down her Compton upbringing, which was screaming internally to punch Hannibal’s manager in the face for the audacity of grabbing her.

“Yo,” Delwood repeated, looking down at his client’s girlfriend. “Where are you going? We should go and talk to some of the guys at NBC. See if we can’t get you a guest spot, or something.”

Toni froze.

Her career was in desperate need of a boost – and the way Baller had been acting recently, perhaps she couldn’t count on his money and fame to bolster her fledgling career much longer. She needed to take these opportunities while they still presented themselves. ‘Make hay while the sun shines,’ her mother had always said.

So she nodded, and forced herself to smile at Delwood, and said, “Sure thing, Woody.”

But before she let him lead her off towards the television executives, the hip hop star turned and threw a wistful glance in the direction of the towering, British MMA fighter.

And to her surprise? She caught him staring
right back at her
.

Chapter Thirteen

James

James had a history of walking away from things.

He’d walked away from girlfriends before. Jobs. Hell, even with coming to America he’d been walking away from all the shit he was having to deal with back in Britain.

So when things had kicked off with Hannibal Alexander, he’d walked the hell away, like he always did. And he dragged a complaining Taffy off with him – before the little Welshman started an international incident by using the ‘n-word’ in front of the crowded room.

But unlike all the times in his past, James took a moment to look back this time – and that’s when he made eye-contact with Toni.

The beautiful African-American girl, looking curvy and delicious in her expensive figure-hugging dress – was looking across the club right back at him.

It was like electricity arced between them.

But before that moment even passed, the grey-haired black man who ran Hannibal’s operation grabbed Toni’s elbow and pulled her away – and James was left watching her walk towards a group of television executives; giving him a wistful look over the shoulder as she went.

James shuddered.

“Hey, boyo,” it was Taffy, holding aloft a brimming glass of Scotch. “Get this down you.”

James snorted, and accepted the glass. He drank down half of it in two long swallows, and it burned his throat deliciously.

“Chivas Regal?”

“The 18-year old,” Taffy nodded. “I’m not a
complete
heathen.”

James snorted, his lips curling in a smile.

“So, that big, black bastard slunk out of here with his tail between his legs,” the Welshman grinned, sipping his own drink.

“Taffy!” James snapped. “You’ve got to watch it with that shit. Americans are
very
sensitive.” He sipped his drink again.

Taffy Evans was, as it happened, the least racist person he’d ever known. Taffy’s own daughter had married a guy from Jamaica and he adored his little nappy-haired granddaughter.

But the old chap was from the Valleys, from a sheltered upbringing, and hadn’t quite got it into his head yet that the ‘n-word’ and its ilk were no longer socially acceptable.

“You see the look on his manager’s face?” Taffy continued, totally ignoring James’ comment, “His eyes practically lit up at the thought of you two slugging it out again.” The Welshman drained his drink. “I’m telling you – you’ll get asked for a rematch before the weekend’s through.”

James grumbled. He wasn’t quite so convinced.

“Anyway – I’m off to see a man about a dog.” Taffy’s eyes were scanning the club for the bathrooms. “You stay out of any more trouble, alright?”

James shook his head.

“Taffy, what trouble could I possibly get into now that Alexander’s gone home.”

Taffy shrugged. “You have a talent for finding it.”

And then the little Welshman was gone, and James was once again standing on his own in the corner, sipping his Scotch.

Trouble, he scoffed.
As if
.

And then there was a light cough from behind him, and James MacDonald span around.

Staring up at him, sipping her Cosmopolitan through a straw, was Toni Rome.

Chapter Fourteen

Toni

“Baller told me that I wasn’t to talk to you again,” Toni looked up at the handsome British fighter with a smirk. “Under
no circumstances whatsoever
.”

She sipped her drink.

“So, naturally, I’m here.”

James’ big, blue eyes widened. His lips curled.

“I like you, Ms. Rome,” he grinned. “You’re fearless.”

“Yeah, well, so are you. You stood your ground when Baller was getting all up in your face just now.”

James pursed his lips.

“What was that all about, by the way? Haven’t had anybody yell, ‘
You lookin’ at my girl
?’ in a long time.”

Toni snorted.

“Well, Baller likes to swing his dick around. Doesn’t like the idea that people think they’re better than him.”

James thoughtfully sipped his whiskey.

“I’m surprised a top-tier athlete like him has an insecurity issue.” His eyes flashed mischievously, flicking downward towards his crotch. “Is he compensating for something? Is Hannibal the exception to the rule when it comes to how well-endowed black men are?”

Toni’s cheeks burned red, and she giggled.

“Well, Baller’s doing just
fine
in that department,” she promised. “He’s hung like an anaconda. But you’re not wrong – he’s got an insecure streak.”

She sipped her cosmo through the straw. It was an oddly dainty little maneuver – kind of characteristic of this curvy, classy little contradiction.

Toni Rome looked like a model, but had a mouth and an attitude straight off the streets of southeastern L.A.

“Truth be told,” she whispered conspiratorially, sidling up to James so closely that he could smell her perfume, “Baller’s super insecure about his upbringing.”

“
What
upbringing?” James snorted. “That kids straight out of the ghetto. We’d call him a ‘chav’ back in Britain.”

“Well, that’s just the thing,” Toni confided. “He
ain’t
.”

She shrugged her slender shoulders. “It’s all an act, England. He was born and brought up in Hartford, Connecticut. He was on the honor roll, played in the soccer team. He’s got a bachelor’s degree in fine arts – some real Huxtables crap.”

James blinked. He didn’t understand the reference.

“That’s why he puts on the act so hard. He wants everybody to think he’s some tatted up hoodrat – but in reality, he’s back home in Hartford with Mom and Pop twice a month, going out for brunch.”

James snorted. Funnily enough, he could actually sympathize with that.

“I’m gonna go powder my nose,” she handed James her glass. “Could you be a sweetheart and get me a refill?”

James looked down, into her pretty, flat face. With her chocolate complexion, and little button nose, and those huge brown eyes and full, plump lips, she was absolutely beautiful.

“Surely,” he grinned, grabbing her glass.

Chapter Fifteen

James

“If you’d shown balls like that back in the octagon,” Taffy laughed, barreling up to James as the tall Scotsman leant at the bar, “you might have knocked that black bastard down.”

Rolling his eyes, James turned and looked down at his little Welsh trainer. The tiny old man was red in the fact, eyes burning with intensity. As tough as the old guy was, it didn’t take more than two fingers of Scotch to get him riled up like this.

“What are you talking about, Taffy?”

“Chatting up that bastard’s bird,” Taffy grinned. “That cute little number in the skinny dress.” He sucked his breath in through his teeth. “That’ll teach the cunt – sleep with his girl.”

James laughed.

“I hardly think it’s going to come to
that
,” he grinned. “We were just talking.”

But then the idea found traction inside his head.

It would be oddly poetic. And there was no question that Toni Rome was one of the most intoxicatingly attractive women he’d met in a while. Sassy and exotic – she was like no other girl he’d known.

And the delicious irony of it all. After enduring all of Hannibal Alexander’s slights, slurs, and downright rudeness – it would be pretty amazing to get his own back in the most brutal of all possible ways; by seducing his girlfriend.

But James shook his head.

“You’re nuts,” he laughed. “It’ll never happen.”

Taffy handed James the two drinks he’d ordered.

“Don’t be so sure of that, boyo. I can see she’s into you, as well.”