The Client(11)

“Thank you,” I said. “But I'll be leaving shortly.”

She looked disappointed as she left, but didn't press the subject, which I was grateful for. Tonight had ended up making me much more introspective than usual, and I tried to avoid that sort of thing at all cost. I didn't want to be thoughtful and kind. I enjoyed being shallow, enjoyed making the most of the pleasures in life and not giving a damn about anyone else. I wasn't cruel, but I always put myself first. I didn't know any other way to be.

I glanced at Sara and found her laughing. Even from a distance, I could tell there was no pretense in her. While she wasn't naive, she also wasn't fake. She made no apologies for who she was, and she behaved how she wanted, regardless of how it looked to those around her.

For me, there'd always been two types of women. The classy ones who occasionally slept with me after whatever function I escorted them to, and the ones like Jelani, who would never fit into my world. They were fun, great in bed, but that was all.

The women who moved in my social circles – the ones I took to events rather than just to bed – they knew exactly how they were supposed to behave, what they should say and what they should avoid.

Sara didn't fit either of those molds, and that confused the hell out of me. I liked things simple, but she complicated everything. I knew the smartest thing to do would be to walk out and never look back. Treat her as an employee only. Insist on training in ways that minimized the physical contact between us.

Forget about her and find someone for hot, sweaty sex.

That would be the smart thing to do.

Instead, I paid my bill and went straight home, unable to get the image of her out of my mind.





Chapter Seven





Sara





The restaurant was amazing, the perfect combination of good food and a great atmosphere. It wasn't so fancy that I felt out of place, but it also wasn't the sort of cheap dive some guys would take a girl on a first date. Or, at least, my ex-fiancé wouldn't have gone for somewhere like this. Not that I was all about what a guy spent on me. In my opinion, it was the thought behind it that was important, and Gordon wasn’t exactly the most thoughtful of men.

Tyrell, however, was a great guy. He'd opened the cab door for me, pulled out my chair, and hadn't once tried for any more physical contact than occasionally touching my hand. He was funny, sweet, and considerate.

I just couldn't figure out how in the world he was still single.

When the waiter put the pizza between us, I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, my stomach growling at the smell. When I opened my eyes, Tyrell was watching me. I shrugged. “I've been living off noodles and tap water the past couple days.”

To my surprise, he laughed. Not a mean one, but the sort of sympathetic sound that said he completely got it.

“The year after I graduated college, I used to get down to ketchup sandwiches and lemon water.”

I made a face and reached for a slice of pizza. “You went to college?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted saying them. Heat suffused my face. “I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it like that.”

He waved a hand and swallowed the bite he'd already taken. “Don't worry about it. I got what you meant. Most athletes in non-traditional sports don't go to college so they can participate in their sport as long as possible while they're still in their prime.”

I gave a sigh of relief. That was exactly what I'd meant. “What'd you go for?”

He grinned at me. “Childhood education.”

My eyebrows went up. “You want to be an elementary school teacher?”

Now there was a mental image. Tyrell towering over a bunch of little kids while he taught them their ABC's. Despite how ruthless I'd seen him be in the ring, I could picture him with children, helping them with math problems, making sure they all got their coats and boots on before recess. Somehow, it fit.

“I'm taking online Master's classes so when I'm done fighting, I'll just have to take the licensing tests.”

My next bite of pizza halted mid-bite. “So you're already thinking toward retirement?”

I had to admit, it surprised me. Even I knew that Tyrell was something special in the ring. Pretty much everything I'd read in the past week said that he was on track to be even better than Dorian, and that was saying something. Barring serious injury, Tyrell had the opportunity to hold onto a championship title for at least half a dozen years. Even if he decided he wanted to go out on top, he could still be at it for a while.

Tyrell shrugged. “I enjoy fighting, and I'm good at it, but I don't live and breathe it, not like some other guys do. I want the title, but I'm not going to decide whether or not I want to keep it until I have it. I want more from life than that.”