Working It(37)

The taller man turned his head and grinned the moment he saw him. “Nolan! Come over.”

He knew he’d met Max, but this man didn’t look even a bit familiar. All Nolan remembered was his voice, deep and warm. “Is this a bad time? I can come back later.”

Max came out from behind the bar, revealing even more of his impressive frame. Zack was fairly tall, but Max was huge. “Later it’ll be a zoo and I won’t have five minutes to myself. Let’s go back to the office.”

Nolan trailed behind him, throwing a small smile to the two remaining bartenders as he passed. As he went, he tried to take stock of everything he saw, but there was nothing outstanding about the building when it wasn’t lit up with the pulse of music flowing through it. Strange how someplace so innocuous could have caused him so much hurt.

Sort of like a tree in a ditch.

“Have a seat. Can I get you anything? Beer, water?”

“I’m good, thanks. How’s your mom?”

“Much better. Nothing like being waited on hand and foot by her only son to brighten her spirits.” Max fell into his chair behind the desk, laced his hands behind his head, and leaned back. “So, Zack fired you.”

“He did.”

“Did he have a choice?”

“No. I accused him of not fighting for me, but I know that wasn’t true.” He’d even reached out to Nancy, and she’d been nothing but regretful about the circumstances. She’d had no clue where Zack was that day, however.

“He can be a prick, but he’s a loyal prick. You won him over pretty fucking fast. If there was anything he could have done to save your job, rest assured he would have done it.”

Nolan’s gaze slipped to his hands. “I know. I was hurting and lashed out at him.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Zack can stand to be on the receiving end of someone else’s anger for once. It might wake him up. So . . . you’re unemployed.”

“Yup.” Nolan took a deep breath and straightened. “But I’m not without a job.”

“Oh?” Max let his hands fall to the desk. “You mean Ringside.”

“I do. Zack asked me to help, and I plan to keep my end of the bargain.”

“So what was this plan of yours that you wanted to discuss with me?”

It was possible Max would balk at his big idea, but Nolan was fairly confident he’d be on board with one of the smaller pitches. “Ringside needs money. I want to use Frantic to run a fund-raiser.”

Max’s eyes widened for a moment before he broke out in a grin. “I knew you were a smart one. Why the hell didn’t we think of that? It’s so simple.”

“You’re focused on Frantic, and Zack is preoccupied with his job. Sometimes it’s easier to see these things from the outside. It’s only a start and won’t be enough, but it will raise awareness. Which is another thing I was thinking about.”

As soon as he started, Nolan couldn’t stop the flood of ideas from coming. A marketing campaign, outreach to community groups, government grants for small businesses. There were so many options out there for them to take a run at, he had no doubt some would be successful.

“The problem the two of you have is time,” he finally said, taking a deep breath before bringing out his main suggestion. “You need a project manager.”

Max chuckled. “I told Zack you’d have him so organized he wouldn’t know what hit him. That seems like a natural transition. So what do you need from me, besides the club?”

It shouldn’t be a nerve-racking thing, but the words stuck in his mouth. With a groan, Nolan rubbed at his thigh. “I need Zack to agree to this.”

“So ask him.”

“I . . . don’t know how. I know it’s stupid, but we’ve only known each other a month, and it wasn’t as though we were friends. He was my boss, and Ringside is his dream.” And Max might or might not know any more than that about their relationship; Nolan didn’t want to reveal anything Zack had been trying to keep from Max. Leaning forward, he shook his head. “I guess I just need to know that I’m not overstepping here. I inserted myself into this, first offered to help, because of work. I’d like to stay on at Ringside even if it’s as a volunteer, but I think I could be a great project manager, and I had the idea before I knew I’d be losing my job at Compass. You know him better than me. I just wanted to be certain.”

Max stood and came around to the other side of the desk to perch on the edge. “You’re right, I do know him better. The last time I saw him he was sitting in the same chair you are. He was drinking because of you. He’d done something stupid, which isn’t abnormal. But he was sulking, which is far from typical Zack behavior.”

In the little over a month he’d known Zack, sulking wasn’t a thing Nolan had seen even once. “That’s weird.”

“I thought so too, until I realized he was upset because he thought he’d hurt you. Zack isn’t intuitive when it comes to people’s emotions. He can brush them aside, which is great when you’re a CTO needing to make major corporate decisions. It’s not so wonderful when you like someone.”

Nolan’s stomach flipped. “You say that like we’re kids.”

“Zack is in some ways. He never seriously dated anyone when we were younger. Then he didn’t have time. You’re the first man I’ve ever seen him interested in. So if you’re asking me if I think Zack will have a problem with you wanting to continue to be a part of his life and help him with Ringside, then no, I don’t think there will be an issue.”

“Oh. Okay.” Nolan got to his feet and did his best to ignore the nervous tremor that rolled through him. “I guess that means I need to talk to him.”

“I guess so. You’re a good man, and you’re good for him. He’s not the easiest person to get along with, but once you get through his shell, he’s got a huge heart.”

“I know. You wouldn’t happen to know where he is, would you? I’ve tried him at the office and on his cell, but either he isn’t in, he can’t hear his phone, or he doesn’t want to talk to me.”

Max chuckled. “I would lay odds it is anything but that last one. Think about it. Does he really strike you as the silent-treatment type?”

“Ah.” Nolan flushed with relief. “No, I guess not.”

“I don’t know where he is, though. Sorry. If he gets in touch, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”

“Okay. Thanks, Max.” He shook Max’s hand. “I’ll keep you posted.”

Max smiled. “I’m sure Zack will beat you to that, if all goes the way I suspect it will. Good luck.”

Nolan walked out of Frantic, his brain spinning and his heart pounding. Zack cared for him, he knew it. All he had to do was hope that Zack would be willing to let Nolan in, accept him as more than an assistant. Nolan wanted his heart.





Zack stood in front of the old, musty heavy bag that one of the teens must have discovered while they’d been cleaning the gym. It wasn’t any good at all, but based on the amount of dust that had gathered beneath where it now hung, at least a few of the teens had taken some punches.

He’d tried to stay late at the office and get some work done, but eventually he’d given up. He’d needed a place he could yell and scream without fear of scaring the shit out of anyone. Getting to vent his anger on the heavy bag was an unexpected bonus.

When he’d arrived, none of the high school kids were around, but the contractor had been there. Zack had been forced to keep things bottled up long enough to make small talk and quickly discuss the work plan. Nothing major was starting for at least a month, and even then it would only be a fraction of the work that needed to happen before Ringside could open.

The moment the contractor left, Zack counted to ten before letting out a tremendous yell. He was sick and tired of things not going his way. He’d worked long and hard, but he couldn’t continue to bear up under this constant barrage of hits. Even the best fighter couldn’t always get up from the mat after a beating.

He missed Nolan. Hated what he’d done to him.

Stripping off his shirt, Zack hung it on a nail jutting from the wall. An envelope fell from the pocket, and Zack snatched it from the floor and rubbed his thumb over the seal before folding it and replacing it. He’d impulsively grabbed Miranda’s letter from his desk drawer before he left the office, after forwarding the to-be-terminated list to Samantha. It was time to suck it up and read the thing. After seeing it and choosing to ignore it countless times, he’d decided he owed his former employee that much.

Just . . . not now.

Next went his watch, which he carefully tucked into the pocket of his shirt. He turned and tried to relax his jaw. Shit, his teeth were clenched so hard his head was pounding.

Fuck it.

Without any sort of finesse, he got into his stance, pulled his bare fist back, and slammed it into the bag. Pain immediately exploded across his unprotected skin where it connected with the damaged canvas. He didn’t care. Another jab, this time followed by a cross. Then another. And another, until he couldn’t feel anything but the pain in his hands.