He didn’t get too close though, which I knew he wouldn’t.
“Calm down, Luke,” Lenny implored in my ear.
I shook him off. “I am calm.” This was all for show. Yeah, I hated these damn things, but the forced aggression was good for the buildup. The hype built audiences.
I clenched my fists as camera lights clicked around us.
“Let’s all calm down. There’ll be plenty of time for fighting in the coming months,” the commentor said.
Everyone took their seats again, but I continued to glare at Rodriguez.
“Next question.” Someone from Rodriguez’s side yelled.
“Yes, this one is for McConnell. It’s long been known that your long-time trainer and friend, Daniel Banks died going on two years ago, and you haven’t announced the name of a new head trainer. Do the changes you’ve made to your training regimen indicate that you’ve hired someone new to fill the position?”
My entire body stiffened at the mention of Banks. I should’ve been expecting it, but it caught me off guard. I hated talking about Banks with people who didn’t know him. Glancing over at Syd again, I noticed her cupping that silver pendant she always wore.
“Yeah, I hired someone new,” I answered while still staring at Syd. She seemed to look nervous as her eyebrows rose in surprise. I wondered if she was anxious about being on camera.
“Are they here? We’d love to get to ask him some questions,” the reporter continued.
“Her,” I corrected.
“Excuse me?”
“My trainer’s nota him. It’s a her.”Douchebag.
“Syd?” I called.
Still looking slightly bewildered, Syd rose from her chair and moved around the table to my right side. I started to wrap my arm around her, but the flashing of a camera reminded me we were in fucking public. I couldn’t believe I’d nearly forgotten that.
“Syd? Was it?” Another reporter stood and asked.
She nodded. “Yes. Syd Quinn.”
“How long have you been working with Luke?”
Syd peered down at me. “A little over five months now.”
“And how is the training going?”
“Very well. Luke has made stellar progress and we’re confident that—” Syd’s full response was cut off when laughter from the other side of the room sounded.
“What the fuck is this?” Someone from Rodriguez’s team questioned. Rodriguez snickered.
“A fucking broad is your trainer now? Banks would be rolling over in his grave.”
That was the last thing I heard before I stood up, knocking chairs and almost the podium out of my way to get to Rodriguez and any other cum stain on his team who thought it was funny to talk shit.
This time it wasn’t for show.
“Luke. Calm down!”
“Come on, motherfucker. Let’s get this party started right now,” Rodriguez yelled as he stood behind three dudes who looked bigger than he did.
I was half ready to barrel through all three of them to get to him. But then her hand on my arm stopped me.
“Luke, you’ll get your shot at him. Take a breath. Relax,” Syd said low enough so only I could hear. “He’s not worth messing up your payout. You know that.”
