I pulled the gloves I’d been wearing off and tossed them onto the pile of other gloves before moving around Lenny to head back to my office.
“I’m proud of you, Len. I didn’t think you had it in you to prank me like that.”
“Um, I don’t.”
“Hey, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I’m not here as a joke,” the woman added, obviously following behind the both of us.
I paused at the door of my office, spinning around, eyeing her. “Sweetheart, you wanna quit playing games and tell me what you’re really here for?” It wasn’t an anomaly for a groupie to show up at my gym under the guise of taking a class to find their way into my bed.
Chicks.
“I just told you. You need a new trainer, as evident by what your friend was just saying, and I’m a trainer.”
Again, I observed her from head to toe, this time noting the high heels she wore.
“You want to be my trainer?”
She nodded.
I tilted my head to the side. “What are you really looking to train?”
Her forehead wrinkled as she looked between Lenny and me. Realization must’ve donned quickly because her eyes widened and she answered with, “Oh no, no, no.” Shaking her head adamantly. “I’m really here to train you, Mr. McConnell. As in, for the cage. Not anything else.” She held out a piece of paper, but I simply stared at it in her hand.
“Do you have any experience training fighters?” Lenny inquired as if this was something more than a joke.
“Well… not as a head trainer but—”
“Pssh, doll, it’s time for you to go.”
“Wait, I know that didn’t sound too convincing, but if you’ll just look at my resumé.”
“According to your own lips, you don’t have any fucking experience. In case you didn’t realize, I’m no up and coming fighter, looking for anybody to come along and train me for free or whatever you were hoping for.”
“I’m well aware of your history and record, Mr. McConnell.”
I didn’t know why the hell her saying my name like that pissed me off, but it did.
“Good. Then you knew when you walked your ass in here you were most definitely not going to get the trainer job… or any other job you were looking for.” I eyed her knowingly, because no way in hell did she come here looking to be my trainer.
“Look, I know my experience is light but what I lack in experience I can promise you I more than make up for in hustle and creativity. I—”
I grunted and turned to my desk, grabbing the three resumés that had been sitting on top of it for days. “You see these?” I held up the papers. “These are three top of the line trainers, begging me to take them on and give them a shot to train me. One of them is an Olympic gold medalist in boxing. Another has two heavyweight champions under his belt, and the third has trained fighters up and down the West Coast, but you want me to overlook these three for… you?”
She lifted her chin, looked me square in the eyes and replied, “Yes.”
I’d taken a gut punch from Caldwell the night before that had less of an impact on me. Her one simple response from that full mouth with a beauty mark an inch above its right side, nearly knocked me the hell over.
However, I wasn’t budging.
“Look, sweetheart, I don’t know what type of games you’re playing but I’m not in the damn mood.” I brushed past her to head toward the boxing ring, needing to get some space between myself and this woman.
She followed me into the main space of the gym and into the boxing ring.
“Syd.”
“What?” I questioned, turning to her, in spite of my better judgment.
“Syd. That’s my name. In the…” She paused, checking the gold watch on her wrist. “Six minutes I’ve been here, you’ve called me sweetheart twice and doll once. Condescendingly so, I might add. And I’m sure other women you encounter enjoy the pet names and all, but my name is Syd. If we’re going to be working together, you should get that straight right now.”
