"Hmm. It appears your choices are piss off Ronin or piss off Amery," Molly said dryly.
Maddox's gaze zoomed to Presley. "I'll be in your room an hour before the event so we can get a few personal things squared away."
"Cool."
As soon as he was out of the room, Katie said, "You're solid under pressure, Presley. If Maddox had verbally seduced me like that? I would've been on my knees."
Presley waved her off. "All talk. Action is what counts. But if he can bring the fire, baby, I'll bring the gasoline."
Amery strolled in. "Hey, you're both here. Great. Let's get started."
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
GLAD-HANDING, smiling, schmoozing-acting all friendly and shit?
Not Deacon's scene. At all.
Maddox had told Deacon he could get away with some of his typical "brooding, mean motherfucker" attitude. Deacon thought the people who expected him to be approachable, nice, and chatty needed to have their fucking heads examined. He was an MMA fighter. He punched people in the face for a living.
He was not happy he had to suffer through this industry party without Molly by his side. He'd known she'd have work responsibilities, but it looked to him like Molly and Katie were doing all the work while Presley was hanging on to Maddox as arm candy.
But Presley had nothing on the hot and sexy way Molly looked. The woman killed it in a knee-length, flesh-colored dress. It was modest enough to be professional, but the material clung to show off her feminine shape. A black lace band stretched across the dress's deep V-neck, masking her abundant breasts. At least he wouldn't have to punch any perverted fuckers for staring at her great tits.
By the time he'd returned to the hotel room after training, Molly had been gone. As soon as he'd opened the door to their suite, the sweet, floral scent of her lotion had hit him. Although his body hurt like a bitch and he debated on crawling to the shower, his cock immediately rallied, eager for a workout. It'd been damn near a week since he'd done anything more than kiss his woman. They had serious making up to do.
Riggins leaned closer and muttered, "I need a drink."
"You and me both."
"Want me to bring you something from the bar?"
"Can't."
"Right. You're a week out from the fight. Bet you're hungry too."
Deacon's gaze sought out Molly. "You have no idea."
Riggins chuckled. "For food, horndog."
I'd be just fine feasting on her for hours.
"You missed the run-through earlier."
"Run-through. Like a . . . ?"
"Dress rehearsal for Ronin's speech."
"Yeah, sorry I missed that." Not. He sighed. "Fill me in so I'm not up there scratching my balls, clueless about what's what."
Riggins went into a far deeper explanation about who was supposed to stand where and who was taking the mic and why than Deacon needed. When Deacon said as much, Riggins shrugged. "It's my job to be a detailed-oriented guy."
They watched as an agitated Beck approached them.
"What's up?"
"My fucking blood pressure."
"Why?"
"Sensei invited the candidates I'd suggested for new Black Arts instructors to come to the expo. They're all here."
"So? Isn't that what you wanted?"
"I did not expect to be conducting interviews at fucking midnight tonight with zero advance notice," Beck snapped.
Whoa. Zen-man had his gi in a knot. "That's what Ronin asked you to do?"
"Ronin hinted at that. He didn't come right out and say that's what is gonna happen after this shindig. And now Sensei is surrounded, and I sure as hell won't interrupt his leagues of admirers to get clarification."
Deacon crossed his arms over his chest. "I know you were Black Arts' Shihan before Knox, so you've dealt with Ronin's you-ought-to-be-able-to-read-my-fucking-mind behavior before. Yes, he's your boss and what he says goes. But call him on his shit, Beck, if you don't agree with him."
"Who'd you arrange to meet tonight before the last-minute interviews were hinted at?" Riggins asked.
Beck's gaze moved to Riggins. "An old friend. But that's not what this is about."
"You sure?"
"No." Beck ran his hand through his hair again. "Fuck. How'd you know?"
Riggins shrugged. "There seems to be all-around confusion on what this trip is really about. It's business. Period. Interpersonal shit shouldn't take priority. Knox and Shiori, Ronin and Amery, and I are the only ones who understand that."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Beck is pissed for having to back out of a hookup because Sensei needs him to do his job. You are eye-fucking Molly, and I expect to see you two sneaking off to a coat closet as soon as the speeches are done. Maddox is parading around with Presley, a chick half his age, to make his ex – old lady jealous-and I ain't sure that's not the only reason we're here in LA. Jaz is hiding in her room like she's afraid she'll run into someone she knows. Then there's Fee and Gil, who are constantly arguing about something that happened between them five years ago that has nothing to do with her ability to fight."