"I saw Fenton and Kev a little while ago. Kev was really upset. He said that they got kicked out of some snobby golf lunch. They accused Fenton of trying to pull off some tacky publicity stunt."
"I think there's a little more to it than that," I said. "It sounded to me like they crashed the party and tried to start a fight with Jackson McRay."
"He doesn't sound like a nice man." Sandi turned back to her brushes and color palettes. "They said he had that reality television star cornered."
"If you ask me, I think Fenton acted like a jealous suitor. Maybe he'd rather go to the promotion party with Sienna."
"Really, Kya, how can you say that?"
I crossed my arms over my chest. "I just can't help but get the feeling I'm being played. Neither story adds up and neither Fenton or Jackson or even Kev will tell me the whole truth."
"I don't want to get into it, but Fenton didn't say a thing the entire time they were here. Kev said he shuts down like that when someone doesn't believe him. Probably happened to him a lot as a child. You didn't believe him and he can't defend himself, so he has nothing to say," Sandi said.
"So instead of telling me the truth and trying to convince me, Fenton's just going to give me the silent treatment?" I asked. "Sounds like he's still acting like a child."
"Don't you want to believe him?" Sandi asked.
I flopped down in the chair she had set out for me. "Yes. But that would mean Jackson McRay was some kind of monster and Sienna was an innocent victim. Do you see why that's hard to believe?"
Sandi gave a weak smile. "Yes, but believing that means that Fenton stepped in to help her even if it meant confronting Jackson and causing a huge scene. He's not the type to stand aside for the sake of his reputation, and I think that makes him heroic."
I held my hands up. "Alright, I hear what you're saying. Let's just agree that all I know for sure is that I need to get ready and head to the fight promotion party."
Sandi patted my shoulder and then got to work. Within the hour, I had my copper hair swept up, my green eyes accented with perfect makeup, and the iridescent dress shimmering every time I moved. She ushered me into the elevator.
"Let me guess, it all changes back to normal at midnight," I said as I stepped inside.
"Let's hope so," Sandi said.
I headed into the flashy party feeling like Cinderella for more reasons than just the dress. I was still an outsider in Fenton's world and I half expected the doorman to send me away.
"Hey, beautiful. No hard feelings about earlier, right?" Mario Peretti appeared trailing a large entourage.
"You mean when you attacked me?" I asked.
"Just a kiss between colleagues. Surely, that's happened to you before," Mario said. "Besides your boyfriend did not seem to mind."
"Jackson McRay is not my boyfriend," I said.
"Well, obviously, I'm not the only one confused by that," Mario said. He nodded in the direction of the bar.
Fenton leaned over a limber, black-haired woman and drank a shot off her flat stomach. She sat up and offered him a lime from between her overly plump lips.
"They've been pretty friendly ever since I arrived. Maybe I picked the wrong photo op to make our man jealous," Mario said.
I pushed past him, much to the amusement of his entourage, and marched into Fenton's eye line. He caught sight of me, and his blue eyes blazed. It was not the smoldering appreciation I had imagined when I chose the dress. I forced myself to walk straight over to him.
"We need to talk," I said.
He turned back to the bar and ordered another shot. A voluptuous blonde took position and smiled at Fenton with bright red lips.
"Aren't you going to say anything?" I asked. "Really? You're going with the silent treatment? What if I say that I want to believe you? It was an awkward situation. It seemed personal and I did not want to let something personal get in the way of the business I have with Jackson. Come on, you don't have anything to say about that?"
Fenton shrugged. "Actions speak louder than words." He leaned down over the blonde's bare midriff and savored the second shot. He made a big show out of sucking the lime wedge from her fire engine red lips, but when he looked up, I was staring over the top of them.
On the wall, almost a story high, was a slideshow of Mario's rise to the top. Fenton's loss was heavily featured and now I knew why he wanted to add a photograph of me. The sharp cuts and close-ups of Fenton's first loss to Peretti were all psychological warfare meant to shake his confidence. My picture would surface soon enough.
"Well hopefully reason speaks louder than photographs," I said. "I can explain."
It was too late, Fenton turned around just in time to see the wall-sized shot of Mario kissing me full on the lips. My hands that had been raised to ward him off actually looked like I was embracing him.
I grabbed his shoulder. "Please, Fenton, you have to believe me."
"Like you believed me?" he asked. He did not even glance at me. Fenton yanked his shoulder away and strode across the dance floor to call Peretti out.
The crowd burst into excited chatter and the music stopped. Fenton shoved him as soon as Peretti turned around and for a moment it looked as if the fight would happen right there on the dance floor. The crowd backed away and the two were left in a wide circle.
I tried to push my way in, but the crowd was too tight and too excited to move. Kev appeared at my side and stopped me.
"Fenton knows it was just a prank. It's all part of the show," Kev said.
"Are you sure? I screwed everything up. What was I supposed to do?" I asked him.
"How about conducting your business over the phone or email like every other agent?" Kev asked.
Peretti puffed out his chest and was strutting around Fenton getting the crowd riled up. Fenton answered with a hard shove that deflated Peretti's chest. Security burst into the circle to haul them both back. Instead of de-escalating the situation, the fight promoter handed Peretti a microphone.
"A fighter's got to keep a cool head and it seems Fenton Morris is ready to lose his again," Peretti said.
Half the crowd cheered and half howled with rage.
"I know that ladies love a man with self-control, with focus, with the ability to see things through to the very end," Peretti said. He shook off the security guards and roamed around half the circle, encouraging the crowd to choose sides. "It’s not my fault if Fenton's woman wants the same thing."
I cringed when the wall-sized photograph reappeared. Fenton fought off his security guards and got right back into Peretti's face. Peretti held the microphone away, but the rough tone of Fenton's voice made his message clear.
"You'll have your turn," Peretti said, leaning back to speak into the microphone. "And when you do, you better apologize to your woman. She's gotta be unsatisfied if she came to me."
Fenton lunged and knocked the microphone from Peretti's hand with a sharp slice of his hand. The crowd cheered and the security guards swarmed the two fighters again. This time, when they ebbed back, it was Fenton who had the microphone.
"Some people become fighters because they think the lifestyle looks cool," he said. "I didn't become a fighter, I was born fighting. I had to fight for everything. I had to fight to keep my family together. I had to fight to keep my sister safe at school. I had to fight to keep food on our table. What I never did was fight to keep my focus. I wanted better from day one, and I'll be damned if I let some strutting scum distract me from that."