Page 39
I know that look.
He came to that one fight.
And he’s never looked at me quite the same since.
He shakes his head and his gaze flicks over to me. “You got any fights coming up?”
“Yeah,” I answer him as we start making our way down the sidewalk to the restaurant. “Have one tonight, actually.”
“Hmm. Well, good luck, kid. Not that you need it,” he says with a snort and one corner of my mouth tugs up.
He’s right.
I don’t need his well wishes.
Not in that ring.
We’re quiet as we enter the restaurant and are guided to our table in the back corner of the dining room. When the hostess asks if she can bring us anything to drink, Calvin orders a beer and I get a water. I don’t have many rituals when it comes to my fights but there is one rule I live by: no drinking before I step into the cage. Once she’s gone, I meet Calvin’s gaze.
“So, tell me, how has life been treating you, Cal?”
Cal chuckles, giving me a shrug. “I can’t complain, son. I’m kind of retired now.”
Yes.
This is what I wanted.
“Are you?” I ask, arching a brow. “What the hell does ‘kind of retired’ mean, though?”
He laughs. “It means I have someone to run the bakery for me on a day to day basis but I still pop in every once in a while to make sure everything is going smoothly and they can still call me if there are any issues.”
“Ah, so now you just spend your days improving your golf game?” I ask, fighting back a grin and Calvin reacts just like I expected him to.
“Boy,” he hollers. “You know damn well I’m not outside in this fucking heat, playing a stupid fucking game like golf.”
I laugh, leaning back in my seat and crossing my arms over my chest. “All right, then. What are you up to?”
“Oh, little bit of this and a little bit of that.”
“What does that even mean, old man?”
He grins. “It means that whatever I wake up and feel like doing that day, I go do. I’ve been traveling a little, I started fixing up that old mustang I’ve had sitting in my garage for years and I joined a book club.”
“You?” I ask, sputtering out a laugh. “A book club?”
“Yes, a book club,” he fires back, pinning me with a look that I know all too well. “The point is, I’m not chained to a job sixty hours a week anymore so I get to go live my life.”
I hold my hands up in surrender. “All right. I’m glad to hear it, Calvin. Who you got running the bakery for you, though? That place is your baby.”
“Yeah,” he says, his voice softer as he gives me a little shrug. “But I didn’t want to literally keel over at the front counter so it was time to pass it on so to speak. I hired this girl who moved here from Arizona about seven months ago. Lennon. She’s great.”
Yes.
Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.
Before I can ask another question, the waitress comes over with Calvin’s beer and my water, interrupting our conversation. She sets our drinks down in front of us before looking between both of us with a smile.
“Ya’ll ready to order?”
