Chapter One
Sam felt the kick to the back of her right leg just before it began buckling in slow motion. Her left foot was up in the air and useless at the moment – she'd left herself wide open. What was with her today? Without enough leverage to push her body into a back handspring, there was no choice but to fall on her ass. She didn't even try to fall the right way; she deserved the pain for leaving herself open. She wanted it to hurt.
Looking up, she saw Randy still in attack mode, just in case she sprang back up fighting. Ready to concede, she said, “Matte,” –– the word their dojo used to end fights.
Randy relaxed his stance and leaned forward, hands braced on his thighs, breathing hard. “What the hell was that?”
She grimaced, looking up at him from the dojo floor. “Fuck if I know. I left myself wide open, gave you a beautiful opening. Congrats, looks like I'm buying drinks tonight.”
“Uh, no. Can't go out for drinks tonight. Sorry.”
Well, that was new. Surprised, but trying not to show it, she said, “Hey, no need to be sorry, but you don't get a rain check. Got a hot date?”
Randy shuffled his feet and looked up, away from her, talking to the wall. “Well, yeah. But isn't it weird for me to talk to you about it?”
Sam put her palms to the floor by her ears and threw her legs in the air, arching her back and pushing up with her hands to land gracefully on her feet. “No. We tried to date, it didn't work, and now we're back to being friends and sparring partners. If you find someone who makes you happy then I'm happy for you. It's too bad it didn't work, but it didn't, and we were both all grown up and shit about it, so we're good. Right?”
“Yeah, we're good.” He looked at the floor, scuffed his bare foot into the floor of the dojo. “But I've heard you told a few people you're done with dating and you aren't interested in going out with anyone for the foreseeable future. Was it so bad with me you’ve decided to not date at all?”
“No Randy, it's just that... Shit.” Sam sighed and looked down, trying to figure out how to explain. “There are places to go where there are other people who like to do…”
She ran her hand over her head and down her ponytail. It would only be a big deal if she treated it that way. She needed to just say it and move on. “People who like to do the things I like to do in bed. So it's not so much I won't be dating at all anymore, but I'm only going to date people I meet at those places, so I know up front we have the same kinks. The problem with that plan of action is I have issues letting guys spank me when I know I could kick their ass, and I can kick most guys’ asses with one arm tied behind my back. So, for now, yeah, I am kind of calling it quits and focusing on other things, but it's nothing you did. I'm glad our friendship survived, and I don't want you thinking you did anything wrong, okay? I'm the warped and twisted one, you're fine.”
He looked at her a few heartbeats, and when he finally spoke she could tell he was carefully picking his words. “I still feel as if I failed you in some way, but it's just not in me to hurt a woman sexually. I mean, the spanking thing was fun as a novelty, but not…” he trailed off, looking forlorn and helpless and terribly uncomfortable. “I'm sorry.”
She glanced at the clock, realized they were probably done for the day and took a few steps toward the women's locker room without turning away from him. “Don't apologize. We've already been through this. We're good, Randy. You were true to who you are, I was true to who I am, and we both respect the other for it. I’m glad I can still call you my friend. Now go take your girl out and have a nice evening, okay?”
He grinned, “Okay. I'm going to hit the shower, you still going to the fight tomorrow night?”
“Oh yeah, I think Tom has an excellent chance to win this year's local title and move up to the regional fights.”
“I have a few concerns, he’s pretty strictly a martial arts fighter, and he'll be up against kickboxers and street fighters and they’re going to do things he won't be expecting.”
Sam shrugged. “Yeah well, he'll do things they won't expect, too. I'll probably work late tomorrow, so I'll just meet ya'll at the arena.”
* * * *
“So do we have an agreement? Joint custody with the kids spending every other week with each parent, the rotation happening on Monday at three o’clock so it happens just before school ends. One parent drops off in the morning, the other picks up in the evening. Primary address for legal purposes will be at Richard's house since he lives in the school zone the children will be attending...”
Sam read the basics out loud, since she would be the one hammering it all out and creating the mediation agreement. She loved it when people could be grown-ups and work in the best interests of their children. She made more money when they fought and couldn't come to an agreement and landed in front of a judge, but she really preferred it this way. In fact, the couple had been so well behaved, she and the other attorney hadn't even brought in an outside mediator; they'd just sat down with their clients and come to an agreement.