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But I don’t care about him at all. Even if he were to become a friend, I wouldn’t care about him…I couldn’t.
Ever.
“Guess I’ll get to that shower. Nice to meet you…”
“…Rumer,”
“Rumer…nice to meet you, Rumer.” He says genuinely.
Chapter Ten
Throwing Lawson’s extra pair of clothes on, I head out of the locker in room in search of Samantha. Jade should’ve gotten here by now. Hopefully she’ll able to cover the bruising that already started to show on Rumer’s face.
After walking the entire gym I head back into Law’s sweatbox. Sure enough, there’s Rumer sitting stoically under Jade’s scrutiny.
“Well, I think we did it. I can’t see a trace of the bruising. When you get home tonight, make sure to apply some ice. It should help with the swelling. If you want, I have some extra concealer you can have. Rub it into the area of the bruise. It won’t hide the entire discoloring, but it will help diminish.”
Rumors eyes twinkle as she takes it from Jade. “Thank you for everything. I really need this job and I didn’t want to walk in with a shiner. They probably wouldn’t hire me then.”
“It’s nothing, really. You’ve got something to wear right?”
“Aunt Jade has lots of clothes. You should take some.” Samantha chooses this moment to comment.
I hadn’t seen her because she was hidden by Jades tall frame.
“She’s telling the truth, I do have a lot of clothing. You look to be around my size. I’m sure I have a few outfits that would fit you perfectly. If you’re done here, I could give you a ride home. On our way we could stop at my apartment and find something that would fit you to suit an interview.”
“That’s okay, I’m sure I can figure something out. But really, thank you so much.” Rumer stands up and begins to slide out of the office.
She’s uncomfortable—I can see it in her eyes. She doesn’t want to ask for help, nor does she want to accept anyone’s help.
“Jade has more than enough clothes, let her help you out. It’s what Jade does. She’ll be in a funk if you don’t let her help you. And you know who has to deal with her in that mood?”
Rumer whirls around to face me at the same time Samantha yells out, “Daddy.”
Samantha wraps her small arms around my leg while I take in Rumer.
She shuts herself down, hiding any emotion she’d previously showed through her eyes. Our eyes connect for a moment before she directs her attention elsewhere.
On my leg.
On Samantha.
That one glance tells me everything that I need to know. Rumer is one of those women. The ones who are too good to mingle with men that are single parents. They want a man who has no responsibilities, one with a career that offers luxuries, nice cars, and endless time to spoil them. It’s not as if she had hinted to me that she was interested, but damn it—I was a little. Even if it was only friendship…my heart isn’t set on finding the one, anyway.
I already had the one and now she’s gone.
My one is now Samantha. She’s it for me—my everything, the only one who truly mattered.
A woman wouldn’t interrupt that. Friend or not.
It’s nice to know though that Rumer wouldn’t be a friend either. Her look said it all. The disgust she’s displaying spoils her beautiful face.
I look around Rumer, “Thanks, Jade—for everything.” She nods.
“Good luck at your interview, Rumer.”
I take Samantha’s hand in mine. We walk out of the gym together, heading to the appointment that Lawson had made.
Chapter Eleven
“So, Miss Layne…please tell me why you think you’d be a good fit for this position.” Dr. Wilson asks me as soon as I sit down across from him.
Papers cover his old rickety desk, papers that I’m sure are important because this is a doctor’s office after all. Dr. Wilson owns his own family practice, Charlee works here as a family nurse practitioner and is also the reason I was even called back for an interview.
Having no such experience working in a doctor’s office or being a receptionist, I have to win him another way. Ambition is what drives me and personally I believe that’s a strong selling point to begin with. “I’m sure Charlie mentioned that I have no experience whatsoever¸ but I’m a quick learner and open to an entry level position.”
Dr. Wilson leans back in his chair and exhales his breath that he was holding, “Ten people have applied for this position, people with years of experience. Tell me why I should pick you. I need something that would convince me to take on a risk such as you. You might think this is just a doctor’s office and that I have the option of offering anyone a job. What you don’t know is that this practice is mine. I’m not in it for the income, but for the compassion of health care. I offer affordable health care for my patients. There aren’t many offices in this area that can do that. I have a large base and my employees here are part of a family. I run my office as such and I don’t want to hire someone who only needs a temporary job. I’m looking for someone who’s interested in long term employment. So I reiterate—why should I choose you out of all other applicants?”
Now I’m not one to show vulnerability. One thing is that allows others the chance to cause pain, but for the sake of getting this job I’ll expose myself as little as possible to win him over—in a professional way of course. “Dr. Wilson, I know that you have other prospective applicants who have excelled in all skills you’re searching for. Although I don’t possess any such skills, I can acquire them with training. I’m sure of myself and I have an ambition to succeed in all things that I do. I—too—am searching for a long term career. As of right now I’m unemployed and there are no other prospects in this area. I’d rather not have to move back home. I want to make it on my own and if you offered me this job it would allow me to do so.”
He’s quiet for a moment which has my stomach rolling in knots. I’ve scoured online job sites and local newspapers for local jobs and almost all of them require college educations. All others are jobs making minimum wage and that hourly pay wouldn’t cover a portion of rent.
I moved to Pennsylvania two years ago, a long way from Granada, Minnesota, then bumped into Charlie shortly after. When I met her, I was shacked-up with a friend who occasionally shared my bed…a friendship that ended badly two weeks ago when he wanted more than I was willing to give. The breakup of a non-existent relationship also caused my termination where I was working, as the friend was also my boss.
No longer having a job (and him being the reason behind it) there was no possible way I could stay there any longer. I packed my meager belongings into my car where I slept in it a few nights before I swallowed my pride and asked Charlie if I could crash at her place until I figured out what to do next.
Enter prospective job.
Enter available apartment.
Enter Lawson.
Enter Bain.
No, fuck Bain. Ignore Bain.
“Did you say something, Miss Layne?”
Did I just say that out loud? “No, sorry.”
“I’ll hire you under a few conditions. There will be a sixty-day trial period. When the sixty days are up I will evaluate you. We can see how well you’ve taken to training and if this practice is a good fit for you. If it doesn’t work out we’ll both go our separate ways. Does this sound agreeable?”
“Yes, yes that sounds perfect. Thank you so much. You have no idea how helpful this is to me.” I gush like an adolescent getting her first job.
Pathetic.
“The pay is fifteen dollars an hour. You’ll work Monday through Friday, eight in the morning until four in the afternoon. These are normal office hours. Weekends and all Holidays off, as we are closed. After six months you’ll receive one week of paid vacation and another week of sick time. After one year of employment the paid time off will raise. You will also be offered health insurance and a retirement savings package at that
time. All of this is explained in the employee handbook,” He says while handing me a stack of papers, “Should you still be employed here.”
As sad as it sounds, this is the best job offer I’ve ever received. This could help changes things for me.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“Nonsense, there’s no need to thank me. You got the job, but you have to be able to keep it and do the work. Fill that packet out and report to work next Monday.”
“I’ll be here.”
On my way out of the office, I spot Charlie and give her a thumbs up to let her know I got the job.
“Do you need help moving anything in?” Charlie asks from behind me.
I don’t want to reveal the fact that the only things I own are bags of clothes and a few boxes of pictures. A blanket or two will make up my bed for the time being. Until I receive my first paycheck, anyway. Then it’s off to some rent a center kind of business until I can put enough into savings to purchase a bed and couch outright.
A floor is better than sleeping in a car, after all.
“This is the last of it,” I smile. “Thanks for the offer, though.”
“I’d always help you. Hey! What’s wrong with your face?”
Shit. I forgot about that. “It’s nothing, really. Today was my first day training at Lawson’s gym. I was sparring with Jude and he got a lucky punch in, knocked me out cold.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you think this is a wise decision? You don’t have to do it. You just got this job! The pay is decent and will only go up the longer you’re there. This could be a career for you. Is fighting something you really want to do? No offense, but your face isn’t looking the greatest. It’s pretty swollen, Rumer.”
“And it hurts like a bitch. Speaking of—do you happen to have any ice? I could use some. It’d help with the bruising and swelling. To answer your question, yes--I’m sure I want to give this a chance. Injuries heal. If I don’t go through with trying, the what-if’s will always be there and I wouldn’t be able to live with that.”
“Fine. Just being your friend is all. I worry about you. You’re always secretive and shit—and now your training to become some professional fighter.”
“I’ll be okay.’
“If you say so. Throw your bags in your apartment and come over. I’ll have an ice pack and ibuprofen ready for you,” She looks me up and down, “Some food, too. You need it with all the running you do.”
“Yes, mom.”
Chapter Twelve
“Tell me how it went.” Lawson says as he hands me a cutting board full of sliced vegetables, a heart salad that’s the side to our dinner tonight.
“They want me in the operating room next week. Something about re-breaking my hand and then resetting it. Might take a few hours and after that I’ll have to stay for an hour or so for observation. Then I get to come home all comfortable-like. I have no choice but to get it done. Lady said if all goes well I might only be out of commission for four weeks. So I’m going to do everything she tells me to.”
“You better listen to her or you’ll have to answer to me. There’s talk of a fight happening in Atlantic City. A life altering opportunity if you play your cards right. I’m not making any calls about getting you in until you get the surgery done, too much to leave on chance. If all goes well then I’ll see about getting you on the roster. It’s not a guarantee though, Bain—you’ll have to continue training, just be careful with your hand.”
I smirk at him, “You know I couldn’t go one day without training.”
“That’s what I’m counting on because I have a favor to ask of you.” Lawson goes back to flipping the burgers in the frying pan.
“Just spit it out.”
“While you’re on the sidelines so to speak I need you to begin training someone. I had wanted to be the one training, but with reorganizing your schedule due to unforeseen setbacks, figuring shit out with Jude and running the gym, I won’t have time to until next month at this rate.”
“Are they any good?”
“You tell me, you got her knocked out today.”
“Rumer?”
“Yeah, kids got potential to be someone.”
“She wasn’t horrible if that’s what you mean by potential. She needs some work though from what I saw earlier. What’s her story?” I ask, curiosity killing me.
Turning the stove off, Lawson places burgers on plates while I toss the salad. “I don’t know her story. Not yet anyway. She only just started coming in, but you know my instincts. She’s good—better than good. She’s got a mean kick, just needs the right training.”
“You really want to take her on?”
“I do.”
I’ve no right to argue Laws decision. He took me on against my own advice.
“Samantha, Jade, dinners done. Get to the table.” Lawson yells into the living room.
Lawson and Jade went back to their apartment already. Samantha and I have our own place, right next door to Law and Jade. We play family every day of the week. It’s taken me a while to figure out how to parent alone. It wasn’t sunshine and rainbows and I failed many times.
I owe everything to Lawson and Jade. They’ve become Samantha’s extra parents. Jade being the strong mother figure—not that she would ever try to take over that role and interfere in what Samantha and I have going on.
Jade’s just always been there and she loves my Sammie unconditionally as does Law.
“All ready for bed, kiddo?” I yell down the hallway to Samantha as I finish drying and putting away the dishes from dinner.
“Ready, Daddy,” She replies as she comes out of her bedroom carrying her blanket. It’s something I don’t have the heart to take away from. It’s her security blanket. She carries the grungy thing everywhere. A blanket she’s had since birth.
Before birth actually.
“This is it. Isn’t it beautiful? She’ll grow to love it. I know it’s just a blanket Bain, but every little girl should have one. I had mine until I was a teenager. I carried that thing around with me everywhere. Mom always threatened to throw it out on me when I misbehaved. Anyway, this is it. It’s hers.”
“If you feel that strongly about it then get it. I’m sure she’ll love it as she gets older.” I say while placing my hand over Sara’s protruding stomach. We had just found out that day that we were expecting a girl.
My baby girl.
“Daddy, daddy! Did you hear me?” Samantha yells, yanking me back to reality.
“Sorry, hunny—I didn’t. What were you saying?”
“Will you tuck me in and read me a story?”
“Yeah, get in bed.”
Chapter Thirteen
“That’s what you’re wearing?” Bain eyes me up and down, a frown marring his gorgeous face.
“What’s wrong with what I have on?” I ask while pulling on my ratty sweatshirt that I’ve had since high school.
“By the time we’re done today you’re going to be dying in that damn sweatshirt. You should’ve thrown on a tank top. And sweat pants? I would’ve suggested shorts or yoga pants.” He barks out.
“I’ll be fine. I work out in these all the time.” I ignore his concerns. Not wanting to tell him the truth, that I actually own only two outfits that are sufficient enough to work out in. This and the outfit I had on yesterday. The one I wore yesterday being the best articles of clothing I possess.
The ex-friend had thrown out most of the nicer clothes I had come to eventually purchase before he fired me. He left me only the items I had entered my friendship with him already owning.
Fucking douchewad. What a mistake he was.
“If you start feeling overheated, don’t hold back—let me know. Okay?” Bain says with concern lacing his words.
“Deal.”
“Put this on,” Bain says while handing me a pair of Beats headphones.
The first pair I’d ever seen up close. They’re expensive as fuck. Anytime I ever had the cash to buy one, ther
e was always something else more important to spend it on.
Not to say that I hadn’t wanted a pair because the sound quality is top of the line.
I don’t question Bain. I shove the earbuds into my ears. The cord dangles down my chest in front of me where he grabs it and shoves it into an iPod.
“I made a playlist. It has all of the best music for training. Songs that will keep you motivated. It’s one of my things when I train. We’re going to run five miles this morning and our goal is to beat this playlist. If we make it back here before the playlist ends we can save grappling for tomorrow.”
But I want you to grapple me.
No, I don’t. Get your mind out of the gutter, Rumer.
He hands me a Velcro sleeve to wrap around my arm to hold the iPod in, “Once we hit the pavement you hit play, okay?”
“Got it.”
“Keep up with me.”
Once the door opens to the outside of Lawson’s fitness center his feet start moving.
So do mine.
I hit play on the iPod and keep pace right behind him. A mile passes before I know it and I can’t keep my eyes off his ass. He’s wearing a muscle tank, showcasing his toned arms and shorts that fit his ass perfectly. I’m staring so intently that I don’t notice the body in motion in front of me come to a complete stop.
I slam right into his backside.
Hard.
My body is thrown backwards from the impact, but he catches me just in time by the wrist. He pulls me into his body. I look up to him in a daze, watching his lips move. He’s trying to say something, but I can’t hear him.
“What?” I hear myself yell out.
He tugs on the earbuds.
Oh.
My face heats in embarrassment.
“Are you okay?”
I stumble my words out, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just didn’t see you stop.” His closeness puts me on edge.
Sexual tension zings through my body.
This is an awakening of sorts—sexual urges aren’t an everyday occurrence for me. I’m not attracted to just anyone physically and when I am it’s usually not this strong…to where I’m ready to strip his clothes off and let him fuck me against a building.