Harlequin Superromance March 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: The Secrets of Her Past\A Real Live Hero\In Her Corner (50 page)

She wasn't too far from Bourbon Street, so she pointed herself toward the district. As she meandered along the famous strip, she was surprised by the number of people out on a Monday night. Weaving through the crowd, it was hard to imagine what the weekend would look like.

She peeked into the bars as she passed, then walked into one that suited her—clean, classy, with modern furnishings and an extensive menu. TV screens showed sports highlights, a baseball game and, more importantly, an MMA fight.

She parked herself at the corner of the bar closest to the screen showing the fight. She ordered a bottle of beer. She didn't normally drink when she was training, but it didn't seem right to order water.

She nursed her drink as she watched the fight, studying the two lightweights' techniques. She knew of one of them—Alessander Mortensen, an up-and-comer who specialized in judo. He'd trained briefly with her brothers in São Paulo. His opponent, Mike Bourne, danced out of the other man's reach, striking and weaving, but not getting any significant hits in. The guy was afraid.

“Oh, c'mon!” she yelled at the screen. The match ended to a round of boos. Bourne had let the clock run out, evading Mortensen as long as possible, scoring points with cheap kicks to the shins. Sadly, she couldn't say that Mortensen was doing any better.

“I didn't know chicks watched this stuff.” A man slid up next to her. He smelled like uncooked ground beef. “Can I buy you a drink?”

She barely spared him a glance. “No thanks. I already have one.”

The man asked the bartender for two beers anyway. “What is it about these fights that chicks like? Two greased-up guys mounting each other? That's pretty gay.”

She turned cold eyes toward him. He might have been okay looking in a certain light, but the words coming out of his mouth spoiled any such illusions. “
I
like watching the fights because it's what my family and I do for a living. And as for your homophobic comment, I won't even dignify that with a response. Now take your cheap-ass beers and go away. I'm trying to enjoy the fight.”

He slid closer. “Aw, don't be like that. I didn't mean—”

“Read between the lines, asshole.” She raised her voice so everyone in the place would hear. “You insulted me. You blew it. Now leave me alone.”

“Hey, buddy.” A presence as oppressive as a storm front pushed into her personal space from behind. The hairs on Bella's neck rose. “Is there a problem?”

The beefy-smelling man snatched up his beers and grumbled, “Dyke bitch,” as he shuffled off.

“We're good here,” she ground out, keeping one eye on the man. “Just giving this creep his walking papers.” She challenged him with a level look when he turned and glared, but his eyes canted to her protector and he moved on.

“Were you planning on starting a bar fight here tonight? You don't want to get banned before you've tried their shrimp po'boy sandwiches.” Kyle took the guy's place next to her, staying close until the man made it back to his table.

“If he started something, I would've finished it.” She took a long pull of her beer to soothe her nerves.

“I don't doubt it. But I'd hate to have to explain to your family why I had to bail you out of jail when you haven't been here a week.”

“Sorry. But I won't pretend to be nice to jackasses for the sake of being polite, especially ones who talk to me like I'm a dumb piece of meat.”

He chuckled. The sound was pleasant, even human. “I can see that. I think you made everyone in the room cup their balls.” His eyes shone with admiration and a bit of nervousness. “Do me a favor, and just say thanks for the rescue to salve my male ego.”

She studied him carefully. He must've had a few drinks in him because he seemed a lot more relaxed. His shoulders weren't hunched up around his ears, and the lines on his face weren't so deep. He was actually smiling. As he was now, she could sort of see why Marco had warned her against his lady-killer reputation. “Thanks.” She toasted him with her bottle. “I owe you one.”

He flagged down the bartender while she let her attention return to the match. She couldn't concentrate on the commentary, hyperaware of Kyle's elbow resting an inch from hers. She thought he was watching her, but she didn't dare look. “What are you doing here?” she asked finally.

“Besides protecting your honor?” He paused and nodded toward a booth. “I'm here with...friends.”

She glanced at the table. Three petite coeds sipping cocktails with umbrellas in them chattered animatedly. Bella stifled a snort. “A little young, aren't they?”

He smirked. “A gentleman doesn't ask a lady her age.”

“You might want to, in case the cops come around asking for ID.”

His lips tilted in a half smile. “Jealous?”

She didn't respond. She didn't want to admit she'd been feeling kind of lonely since arriving in the States.

“Hey...do you want to join us?” Kyle asked as if reading her thoughts.

“No.” She shook her head emphatically. “I'm going to finish this and see where the fight goes, then head home.”

“If you change your mind...”

She waved him off. “Go on. The Powerpuff Girls need their juice.”

He gathered up the drinks in his big hands. “Stay out of trouble.”

“You, too, Coach. Don't let them stay out past their curfew.”

He chuckled and went back to the table. Bella was in a better mood as she watched the rest of the fight.

She kept an inch of warm beer at the bottom of her bottle as the next fight started. She heard the girls with Kyle laughing and giggling. She didn't want to watch them, but they were loud and boisterous, drawing envious looks from all corners of the bar. The girls hung on Kyle's every word. The blonde looked especially into him, gazing doe-eyed at him.

The bartender put another open bottle in front of her.

She looked at him quizzically. “I didn't order this.”

“It's on the house. I liked the way you handled that jerk earlier. I've been looking for a reason to refuse him service and kick him out.” He crossed his thick arms over his barrel chest. “Sorry I didn't step in fast enough.”

“No need to be sorry, Mr....?”

“Neal.” They shook hands, and he nodded vaguely over his shoulder. “I can see you're really into the game.”

“Oh, I'm actually watching the fight.”

“I didn't mean the Yankees game.” He inclined his chin toward the table. “I mean Kyle. Must be at least once a week he comes in with a date or picks up some chick and leaves with them. I've got my money on the one in the pink sweater tonight. You?”

Bella wasn't sure why she felt such disappointment. She'd been warned about Kyle's reputation, after all. “The blonde,” she said decisively. “Look at those puppy-dog eyes.”

He polished the counter top, chuckling. “I'll be honest, when he came over here, I thought maybe you were a contender.”

“Oh, we know each other. He's my wrestling coach.”

“No kidding? You're training at Payette's?”

“I'm working there while I train. Kind of like an exchange program.”

They chatted awhile about her background. Neal was more into boxing, but he seemed genuinely interested in her. Platonically, she was certain, if the wedding ring on his finger meant anything.

“Oh, damn.” Neal turned in time to see two of the girls get up from the table and hug their blonde counterpart goodbye. A couple of minutes later, Kyle and the blonde left. Bella's gaze snagged his as he passed. He averted his eyes, almost shamefaced. “Looks like you were right.”

“What can I say?” She took a long pull of her second beer as the door swung shut. “She seemed his type.”

CHAPTER THREE

K
YLE
GULPED
DOWN
the extra large black coffee, head throbbing. He'd managed a few hours' sleep, but ugh, why had he agreed to do shots of peach schnapps, of all things? He should have stuck to bourbon, but Penny—or Jenny or Patty or whatever the blonde's name was—had said it was an old man's drink.

He pushed into Payette's and came face-to-face with Bella. She flashed blindingly white teeth. “Long night?”

“How late did
you
stay out?” he asked, deflecting her question. “I thought you said you were going home after you finished your drink.”

She lifted a shoulder. “I wanted to see the Chen-DaSilva fight.” Speculation reflected in her eyes, but she didn't ask the question he saw there.

Not that he would have answered. His sex life wasn't anyone's business.

He changed in his office, downed two extrastrength Tylenol, then went over the schedule. The loud rapping on his door made his head throb.

“Hey, boss.” Wayne grinned, then winced, holding his jaw. “I'm back.”

Kyle acknowledged him with a wave. “How was the dentist?”

“Awful. I swear they were drilling into my brain. They put me on some pretty strong painkillers. I thought I'd let you know.”

“Sure you don't need an extra day?” He'd fully expected the boxing coach to call in sick. Wayne was getting on in years, after all, even if he didn't want to admit it.

“I heard Bella Fiore started yesterday. I wanted to meet her, make sure she stays on top of her stand-up game. Don't worry—I won't use any heavy machinery today.” He headed off.

Kyle watched from his office, tensing as the former heavyweight boxer introduced himself to Bella, shaking hands and talking enthusiastically with her.

He forced himself to look away. He didn't know why he was being so nosy. It wasn't as if Wayne would ever do anything to make anyone feel unwelcome. He was really a sweet guy despite his hulking frame and nickname, “Crusher.”

In fact, if there was anyone he had to worry about, it was Bella. Thinking about how she'd dealt with that jerk at the bar last night, he should probably warn the boxing coach about her. He should probably warn all the guys....

What are you, their mom?
Everyone knew the potential consequences of flirting with coworkers. It would be embarrassing and condescending for everyone if he had to reiterate the policy.

As the week went on, though, he became convinced he'd have to sit down with Bella and talk to her about
her
conduct. Besides being a very attractive woman and the first new female employee at Payette's in over a year, she was effusive to a fault.

She was too eager to please, dropping whatever she was doing to help a client or trainer. She'd step right up to clients that weren't hers and correct their techniques and forms without being asked. She boldly approached regulars and offered her training services. She didn't seem to understand that a lot of these guys came in for a simple workout, or else had trainers already. People might misinterpret her intentions.

Sooner or later, she'd start stepping on toes. If she scooped one of the other trainers' clients or had a misunderstanding with someone...well, he didn't want to deal with the interoffice fallout. He'd have a talk with her.

On Friday, she came to his office to show him the programs she'd put together for her classes. He only half listened to her as she outlined the exercises.

“So, with Orville and Tito doing conditioning with me, and Wayne filling in with sparring and stand-up, I was wondering if we could schedule some mat time on Wednesdays and Fridays.”

“I'm sorry?” He'd only caught the word
we,
and it'd jolted him.

“I came here so you could train me, Kyle?” Her prompt rose in a question. “I arranged the schedule with the others so we'd have time—”

“I'm kind of busy with these new recruitment programs,” he interrupted, tapping the binder of marketing plans on his desk. “The week after next we can start.”

Her expression closed, and her mouth firmed into a tight line. He thought she'd leave. People usually did when he put his foot down.

“No.” She placed her notes on his desk and primly settled her palms on top, pressing down firmly. “That's not acceptable.”

“I'm sorry, but that's—”

“Not in our agreement. I was promised one-on-one time with you. I've been here a week and you've barely given me the time of day.” Her dark eyes held his, hard and unblinking as a jade statue's. “So, what's the problem, Coach? Did I say something to offend you?”

He took a deep breath. “I'm concerned about the way you conduct yourself around here.”

She absorbed his words slowly before narrowing her eyes. “How's that?”

“You're too forward.” It wasn't what he'd meant to say, but now that it had come out, he was committed to it. “You can't go around offering your training services to every single client. Most of the regulars already have coaches. They don't need you to confuse them, and it won't help you get along with the others. On top of that, you've been greeting clients at the door. That's Liz's job. It's what she's paid to do. You've only been here a week and I'm concerned you don't know enough about how things work here to give them the information they need.”

Her blazing green eyes seared a hole right through him. “I think I said hello to two people who walked in.
Two.
And that was only because Liz was in the bathroom and they were standing there, looking lost. I didn't see any of the guys rushing out to greet them, so
I
said hello. Now you're telling me that's wrong?”

“You should've gotten a senior staff member. But that's not the only thing.” He took a deep breath and plunged forward. “You're too friendly with the guys. Some of them might get the wrong idea.”

He only realized how bad it sounded after the words left his mouth.

Her voice pitched down an octave.
“Excuse me?”

“This is a gym full of guys, and some clients get it in their heads that... Well, see, there was this one guy who tried to ask Liz out, but she wouldn't date him...”

“And you blame Liz for that?”

“No!” He massaged his scalp. He was making a mess of this. “All I'm saying is, you're a...a woman, and if you act friendly...”

She slowly leaned forward in her seat. “I'm friendly because I'm actually a nice person. I talk to clients because I want them to get the most out of their time here. That's how a Fiore gym is run. We learn from having lots of different trainers, lots of variety and techniques. We don't isolate every single student and tell them they're only allowed to work with one person. We certainly don't isolate the women from the men because we don't trust what they'll do to each other.”

“Look, it came out totally wrong, and I apologize. Of course we want diversity in our trainers and clientele. That's half the reason you're here. But this is a professional gym. Some of the guys work on hourly fees, and they can't risk losing a client. I'd just appreciate it if you stepped back a bit.”

She sat back and rolled her eyes. “No wonder you're losing customers.”

He flinched as though she'd slapped him. “You need to remember—”
your place
“—that you're a guest trainer here. Temporary. Just because you've been doing this a long time at your family's studio doesn't mean you know what you're doing here.”

She studied him coolly, glass-green eyes slicing him to ribbons. “You don't want me here, do you?”

A hard lump formed in his throat. “That's not it.”

“You obviously don't like me.”

“That's not true.” And it wasn't. He simply didn't know how to handle her. Her temperament, her energy, her drive—they were all good things professionally speaking, but they were nothing he was prepared to deal with. And that was what really bothered him.

Bella's words were as sharp and precise as a scalpel. Her composure was unexpected and it threw him off balance even more. “I came here to train with
you,
Kyle. Not with your staff, not in your gym. I came for
you.
But if you can't work with me, then all you have to do is say so, and I won't waste any more of my time or yours.”

“That's not what I want.” He scrubbed his hands over his face and took a deep breath. “I've really messed this up.”

She waited expectantly.

His chair creaked as he swung it to the left, tilting back with a long sigh. “I don't want you to go. I do have a lot to teach you, and I think you have a lot to teach our clients. You're a talented fighter, and you can bring a lot to this gym. I wouldn't have agreed to have you here otherwise.”

“Except that I'm a Fiore.”

“I won't lie to you. Your family name and reputation does have some draw. Since we posted that picture of you up on our website, we've had twice as many cold calls from guys who want to train here.”

“And still you think I'm only here to flirt with your employees and steal clients?”

He grimaced. “I didn't mean for it to sound that way.”

She didn't look impressed. “Answer me this. Will you or won't you make time to train me?”

He wiped a damp palm over his mouth. “I can spare you two hours this afternoon.”

She nodded stiffly. “All right. Are we done?”

For now.
“Yeah.”

Her chair scraped back loudly, and she marched out of his office. The knot in Kyle's gut loosened. That had not gone the way he'd hoped. And he'd come off sounding like a complete asshole.

You let a girl push you around,
his father's voice mocked from the back of his mind.

Kyle ground his teeth and pressed his thumbs against his closed eyelids. Whatever his issues, he couldn't afford to have Bella leaving with a negative impression of what Payette's had to offer.

He'd work with her. His job depended on it.

His sanity, however, was another matter.

* * *

L
IZ
'
S
JAW
DROPPED
. “He
said
that?”

“Maybe I'm making it sound like more than what he meant, and for his part, he did apologize, but I'm pretty sure he meant to tell me he didn't want me talking to, like, anyone.” Bella sipped her iced tea, trying to wash away the bitterness Kyle's words had left behind. Liz had invited her out for after-work drinks. They were at The Spot, the gastropub she'd visited on Monday night. The other trainers were currently shooting pool, giving the girls a chance to chat. Kyle wasn't among the group.

“For the record, I don't have any problem with you talking to clients. I think everyone should take more initiative like you did,” Liz said, and gave a disgruntled sigh. “So Kyle finally worked with you this afternoon?”

“He did, but mostly, he had me doing conditioning exercises. We never got around to any mat work.” He'd been a taskmaster when it came to those endurance drills. They nearly had her puking a couple times, but she'd held it together.

“He does tend to go heavy on the endurance and strength training, but that's the way he works. I'm sure he'll get you wrestling soon.”

Bella hoped so. After today's talk, she wasn't sure Payette's—or Kyle—was a good fit for her.

Neal, the bartender, set a plate of onion rings on the table in front of them. “For you ladies, on the house.”

“Careful, Neal, or I'm going to start getting ideas.” Bella winked at him, and Liz laughed as they reached for the plate.

He grinned. “I'll admit I came with an ulterior motive.” They invited him to sit, and he took a chair. “A friend of mine runs a center for at-risk youth not too far from Payette's. She's looking for someone to come in and give her kids self-defense classes. I thought of you and said I'd ask if you're interested.”

Bella hesitated. “I'd love to...but it's not my call to make. I'll have to ask Kyle.” She looked to Liz, who gave her an affirming nod. “There are insurance questions and a whole lot of other issues he'd have to deal with.”

“Here's my friend's card. You two can hash it out. I hope you'll do it, though—I read up on some of the stuff your family's done. I think you'd be perfect for this.”

No pressure or anything,
she thought as she pocketed the business card, and Neal headed back for the bar. She'd never stop being a Fiore, it seemed. But then, she'd never been able to turn down a call for help. If she could improve a few lives even just a little bit through martial arts, then there was no reason to deny this request.

The guys finished their pool game and joined the ladies, then ordered food. Tito and Orville sat on Bella's right in the semicircular booth, while Wayne perched on a tiny-looking bistro chair on the other side of the table. She liked the old boxer. His upturned smile and the lone furrow on his broad brow bracketed his cheerful countenance. They chatted about the upcoming UFF fights and the busy weekend ahead.

The door opened. Kyle walked in, and Bella's skin broke out in goose bumps. The guys all looked up and waved. She turned to give him a polite smile. Instead of joining them, though, he went to the bar and sat on his own.

“He doesn't drink with you guys?”

“Nah, not anymore. He used to, but then...” Orville trailed off.

“Then what?”

“He had one too many and banged our old yoga instructor.”

“Tito!” Liz exclaimed.

“What? She's gonna hear about it sooner or later.” He bit into his chicken wrap, eyes cast down.

Bella wasn't sure she wanted to hear more, but Liz explained quickly, “It was a bad scene. Kyle had the no-fraternization policy put into place after that.”