“So, my sister is here in Vegas," I said.
"Yes." Matt handed me a slip of paper. "Here's the name of the place she works. First shift is tonight sometime after eleven."
I turned in a full circle. On the second pass, I saw that Kya was standing nearby.
CHAPTER FIVE
Kya
I had to suffer an elevator ride with Kevin Casey in order to get into the gymnasium. Down in the lower levels of the casino, hotel, and arena was the place all the athletes trained before the big events.
"Not supposed to let endorsement agents down here," Fenton's manager said, "but I'll make an exception for you."
I slipped out before the elevator doors were open all the way. "Thank you, Mr. Casey. I appreciate it."
"Well, wait. Don't you want to discuss how you can show your appreciation?" he asked.
I dodged between two boxers whipping jump ropes at lightning fast speeds. Fenton's manager was stuck on the other side, too wide to slip between them without getting tangled up. The gymnasium was cavernous with two full-sized boxing rings, a three-lane running track around the perimeter, plus every amenity of a regular gym.
In the second ring, Fenton squared off against a young man. The young fighter appeared erratic and clumsy. Fenton was lithe and lethal, his laser blue eyes fixed hard on his sparring partner. I knew I was trespassing, as well as intruding, so I stuck to the wall and found an out of the way vantage point. From a distance, I could see the young man talking. He must have said something Fenton took offense to, because with three hard moves, Fenton took down the novice and left him howling in the middle of the ring.
It was definitely not a good time to interrupt, so I kept to the shadows. Fenton toweled off and climbed out of the ring. Then, he spotted a nondescript man on the opposite side of the gym. I wondered how I had missed the man earlier – he stuck out like me. I took a step towards them, worried that he was a rival agent.
The look on Fenton's face stopped me. A grim cut to his jaw made my heart clench. Ridiculous, I knew, to worry about Fenton getting bad news. I imagined explaining to my boss how I was only worried because a client never accepts a new contract when they've received bad news. Still, I knew it was more. The sad look on his face made me want to comfort him.
I had just witnessed the brutal way Fenton Morris could take down an opponent and yet, I was worried he could not take the obviously bad news the nondescript man was delivering. My feet moved before I could think about what I was doing. If I interrupted something serious, Fenton might be fed up with me and throw me out. One wrong move and my bonus, my promotion, and my secure mortgage would all disappear.
I marched across the gym, veering to the side so Fenton would not see me coming. The brown-haired man noticed me, but his expression betrayed nothing. The cool way he assessed everything with his plain, brown eyes was disconcerting. It was as if he could discern everything about me in one glance, while all I could figure out was that he was of average height.
The nondescript man stepped back as I approached, and Fenton looked up and around. He immediately pressed his mouth shut and palmed the piece of paper. A memory flashed back from the nightclub, and I remembered telling him my parents were dead and I had no other family. Fenton had said he was equally on his own. Now, he was talking to a strange man about his sister being in Las Vegas. He did not want me to know, and from the way he glanced all around, it seemed he did not want anyone to know.
Better off alone, I thought. Fenton Morris loved his lone wolf image.
"Please, don't let me interrupt," I said. "I just thought I should let you know Mr. Casey let me down here. I didn't want you to see me and think I was stalking you."
Fenton's smirk reappeared. "Bet you had to sweet talk ol' Kev."
"Luckily, the elevators are fast around here," I said.
"I'm shocked he didn't hit the stop button. Where do you think I learned that trick?" Fenton asked.
I remembered he had stopped the elevator on the way up to his penthouse. The hot tangle of our lips and bodies came back to me in a warm rush. I shook my head to cool my thoughts.
"Where did your friend go? I didn't mean to interrupt," I said.
Fenton looked as surprised as me. The brown-haired man had faded away. "Not sure I would call him a friend. Then again, he's not the one stalking me."
"I noticed you haven't had security throw me out yet. Next, you'll be coming up with ways for me to show my appreciation, just like your manager," I said.
"You wouldn't be able to handle it," Fenton said. His eyes swept up and down my body. "You bring any sensible shoes to Vegas?"
"Yes. I run every morning. Why?" I asked.
"Well, you could join me for the rest of my workout if you think you're up to it," he said.
I straightened up to my full height, still seven inches shorter than Fenton. "You need another sparring partner?"
He glanced over his shoulder where the young fighter lay on a bench with an ice pack over his nose. "No. There aren't any rings or referees where we're going."
#
The Las Vegas Overlook Trail was a silent expanse of blue sky and sun-baked earth. After the neon and concrete of the Strip, I was shocked to find a large swath of open terrain stretching out before us.
"This is part of your training?" I asked.
"My coach isn't keen on joining me, but it beats jumping rope in front of a mirror," Fenton said. He started up a steep trail and I trotted after him.
"You struck me as the big city sort, you know, never far from asphalt or skyscrapers," I said.
"I prefer it out here." He stopped for a moment and looked back at the Vegas Strip. The melancholy look passed over his face again. "People get all tangled up in big cities, it's not good for them."
I wondered if he was talking about his sister, but refrained from letting on what I had overheard. "That's why I love Chicago. There's the city, but then there's Lake Michigan and all the parks. Nature is never very far away."
"Oh, so that's where you're based," Fenton said. "You think you can handle this hike? They have hills out in Chicago?"
I scowled and picked up my pace. If I was going to convince Fenton to forget about my nightclub lapse in judgment and still consider signing with my company, I needed to stick to my script. "This is no problem. Like I said, I run every morning. I also take very excellent vitamin supplements."
"Oh, here it comes," he said. He chose the rougher of the two trails in front of us and kept going. "Alright, Ms. Allen, give me your best pitch. Just remember, I'm not one of your country club athletes happy to be inserted into a catalog wearing a cardigan."
"That is exactly why you should sign with me," I said. "It is my job to protect my client's interests and broker the deal between the product and the athlete. I built my career on making sure my clients are never put into campaigns they do not approve of one hundred percent."
"And, you have a successful career?" Fenton asked. He stopped on a crest, and I walked into him.
I smoothed back my hair. "Yes, I do."
"And, that's all you want?"