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Working It(18)

By:Christine d’Abo


“So how did you find this place? There are a lot of restaurants around here. This is on a side street. It wouldn’t be someplace you’d just stumble on. Unless you spent a lot of time searching for hip joints.”

Zack snorted. “You sounded like my dad right then.”

“Well, the silence thing was getting awkward. All of my practiced small talk revolves around training humor, which believe me you don’t want me to lead with.” Nolan shrugged. “So, how did you find this place?”

The answer would require Zack to reveal a part of his life no one else at work knew anything about. Not even Samantha. While it wasn’t anything that would damage his reputation, it inevitably changed how others saw him. Keeping quiet about it for so long had also made it feel like a secret, and it was hard to overcome the habit of avoiding the topic completely.

Nolan held his gaze, his expression growing more curious and amused the longer the silence stretched on.

Clearing his throat, Zack swallowed down some beer to boost his courage. “I go to a gym around the corner. I found this place when I was walking from there back to work late one night. Heard the music, didn’t really want to do anything at the office, and decided to wander in here instead.”

The wrinkles around Nolan’s eyes as he frowned made him look even cuter than normal. “There’s a gym around here?”

Zack forced his hands to relax; he knew once he went down this road there was only one logical conclusion. “It’s a boxing gym.”

“I had no idea. Mind you, I tend to stick to my own little part of Toronto most days. Is it a busy spot? And wait, you box?”

“I learned how to take a punch when I was a kid.” It was strange, the way Zack’s heart pounded at the thought of telling Nolan. Shit, even his hands were sweating. He was given a small reprieve when their food arrived, Nolan’s burger and his steak.

Nolan was apparently starving, the way he dug immediately into the food. The sounds of pleasure coming from him were obscene, and eventually Zack couldn’t resist a dig. “Should I leave the two of you alone?”

Nolan waved his hand. “This is the best ever. So glad you brought me here.”

In a flash, the tension that had built to near painful proportions dissolved. Zack smiled and allowed himself a few moments to savor his steak. “See, I know what I’m talking about.”

Nolan nodded with an enthusiasm that he’d rarely seen in another adult. “Hey, is that gym open? Given the caliber of this place, I feel like you have pretty good taste. Maybe I should be looking at going there instead of the weight room in Tina’s building. I mean, not that I’d be much of a boxer with my bad leg and stuff, but my doctor has been after me to do more strength training. Mixing it up might be better than using the same weight machines all the time.”

There was no reason to think Nolan would betray his trust if he showed him. No reason to believe anything horrible would come from opening the door of his personal life just a tiny crack to share with someone else. He’d already shared so much with his assistant—no, his friend—that this was the next natural step.

Wasn’t it?

“Are you okay?” Nolan wiped a hand on his napkin and gave Zack’s hand a pat. “You zoned out there.”

“I’m good. Just thinking.”

Nolan grunted and picked up his burger again. “You need to stop working all the time. I would be surprised if your brain ever shut off.”

“It does. Sometimes.” Fuck it, why would he have brought Nolan here, if not to visit Ringside when they were done? People had interests outside work that they shared with friends. There was no reason to chicken out now. “When you finish up I’ll take you over there.”

“Awesome.” Nolan licked a fleck of ketchup from the corner of his mouth. “Should be fun.”

Fun. Yes, it could be fun, or it could change everything. Zack took another bite of steak, this time tasting nothing.



Nolan was clearly a thick idiot. Either that or the food had been so unbelievably amazing that it had cast a spell over him and changed his perspective of the world around him. The building he currently stood in front of was not at all what he’d been expecting. There weren’t any flashing lights to advertise it, no sweaty, hulking men and women streaming in and out.

Hell, there didn’t appear to be any windows.

“I thought you said this was a gym?”

Zack stood in front of the door, fiddling with a padlock. “It is. Was. Will be.”

“That made about as much sense as Chopra’s technical budget.”

If there’d been a sign in front of the business, it was long gone. Fluorescent tubes buzzed above them, but the marquee itself was devoid of text. Zack was oblivious to Nolan as he finally opened the lock and pulled the old door open, dislodging a handful of paint flakes. “Let me get the alarm first.”

“You have a security alarm in this place? Wait, why do you know the code? Why do you have a key?”

The mono-melodic sound of electronic buttons being pressed gave way to silence, then clicking as Zack flicked on light switches. “I own the building.”

Nolan’s mouth fell open, and his feet refused to move. “What?”

“Get in here and I’ll explain.”

The air inside was thick with dust and no doubt three different types of mold. The space he’d entered was large enough to accommodate the large central boxing ring, several side areas where people could work out, and some punching bags along the back. There were mirrors around the walls, though many were either broken or so dirty they were useless. Nolan had never been in a place like this, but by the way Zack moved to the ring and climbed inside, he was clearly no stranger.

“So.” Nolan shook his head. “You own a defunct boxing gym.”

Zack leaned his forearms on the top rope and nodded. “I do. It took every penny I had to buy it, which didn’t leave me much to spend on renovation.”

“You said, ‘It is. Was. Will be.’ Explain.”

He’d gotten to know Zack’s moods quite well over the past month. He’d seen him frustrated, impressed, annoyed, and once even pleased. He’d never seen him nervous.

Zack looked around, a soft smile on his lips. “I know this will come as a surprise to you, but I wasn’t the best teenager.”

“No?” He rolled his eyes. “And?”

“And my parents were at their wits’ end most days dealing with me. I was angry, lost my shit around them on more occasions than I’d care to admit.” He turned his head, making it difficult for Nolan to see his face. “My parents got me into therapy, and the therapist suggested the afterschool boxing club here at Ringside. Russel, the owner, had a grandson who was gay and had been bullied so badly in high school that he eventually . . . well. Killed himself. In his memory, Russel started this club for LGBTQ kids to learn self-protection, but also how to deal with frustration. Channel our anger and fears into something that wouldn’t get us into trouble. At first it was just a few of his grandson’s friends, then word spread and it turned into kind of a haven. It gave us a place to hang out where we could feel accepted and talk to other kids who were going through the same stuff. I came here three times a week and worked out my teen angst on a punching bag. Once I learned some control, I graduated to boxing with people.”

It was so easy to see Zack as an angry youth. The tight control he had over his emotions at the office, his difficulty dealing with his assistants, it all made sense. “You’ve come a long way.”

“Not far enough. I’m not a nice man, but I could have grown up to be far worse. This place helped me get a handle on my feelings. When Russel passed away, the gym shut down. That was seven years ago, and ever since it’s been a dream of mine to open it back up. To make it available to teens who need a safe place to blow off some steam.”

“So why are you working for Compass? It sounds like this is your passion, your dream. Why not quit and do this full-time?”

“Money.” The way he said the word, it was as though a needle of steel had pierced him.

Of course. Taking another look around, Nolan began to guestimate the expenses. So much had been worn down from time, neglect, or both, leaving very little that seemed salvageable. “Is the ring in good shape?”

“It’s the only thing that’s giving me hope. The rest will have to be fixed, probably gutted in some areas, like the showers and steam room. I’m sure most of the building isn’t up to current building codes either, so that would be significant. I need investors to help not only with the setup, but with the ongoing costs for paying instructors and doing the initial promotion. My hope is for the teen program to be free, supported by the regular members or maybe a government grant.”

Nolan came farther into the room, trying to picture it full of boxers, seeing a young and angry Zack in the ring trying to learn self-discipline. “How many other kids were part of the program?”

“Most of the time I was here, the group was at a low point, and there were only two others. You met Max the other night, he owns Frantic. Eli is our other buddy, but he moved out to Calgary a few years ago. We weren’t the first teens this place helped, and there were many after. The numbers fluctuated, but Russel took in anybody who wanted to come and was willing to follow the gym rules.”