Georgia wandered around the poorly marked venue hallways, wondering if maybe the whole team had been traded. The place was practically a labyrinth, and just as charming—the hallways were just concrete tunnels lit by caged lightbulbs overhead.
Sexy.
Just when she was starting to get frustrated, Georgia heard Leo’s voice. She’d know the cognac tones of his laugh anywhere, and that was definitely him behind a partially open door marked VISITORS. She stopped walking, her shoulders sagging with relief.
“You okay?” someone asked.
Georgia spun around to spot O’Doul stretching in the shadows, against one of the barren concrete walls. “I’m fine,” she said quickly. Heart palpitations over the trade deadline are perfectly normal for someone my age, right? “Is it time for yoga?”
“Almost,” he said. “Walk with me.” He tipped his head toward the far end of the hallway.
Since Georgia had no idea where the class would be held, she was happy to fall in step with him. “What’s up, captain?”
He chuckled. “I hear that Hugh wants to make us all go out for karaoke next week. Singing is not really my idea of a good time, but listening to these guys stink it up on stage sounds like a blast.”
“That’s kind of the point of karaoke,” she pointed out.
“You sing? I can’t quite picture it.”
There had been a time in her life when Georgia was always the first one onstage. “I’m good at lyrics. I do Eminem pretty well.”
“No shit?” O’Doul laughed. “I have to see that.”
“Okay,” she promised. Bravery came in many forms, apparently. Paragliding was one thing. But letting loose in front of the people you worked with day in and day out counted, too. Why had she never realized this before?
“You’re thinking pretty hard over there. Trying to pick a track?”
It was her turn to laugh. “No, I like the song to be a game time decision. Although, if I’m choosing one to sing for you . . .” She couldn’t resist making the dig. “I should pick ‘Bitch’ by Meredith Brooks.” That’s what he’d called her at the press conference last month.
O’Doul flinched. “God, I regret ever saying that. I’m truly sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said quickly. Even though it really wasn’t.
“Naw. See, you shot me down a couple of times, and I’m not used to that. Turns me into a toddler, apparently. Lesson learned.”
Georgia’s face heated. “Um . . .”
“Don’t apologize.”
She let out a nervous laugh. “Okay. But I’m pretty clueless sometimes.”
“No big. But, listen—I saw you at the dojang on Spring Street a couple weeks ago—right before the road trip. What is that—a third-degree black belt you’re sporting? You outrank me.”
“Do I?” she squeaked. “I didn’t know you did tae kwon do. Isn’t it a little too much like your day job?”
He snorted. “Maybe. But I’m a little touchy about the way people think of me as a heavy. I took up tae kwon do because it makes fighting orderly. It’s an art form and a skill, you know what I mean?”
This was easily the most personal conversation she’d ever had with O’Doul. “It is a skill. And beautiful when it’s done well.”
He grinned. “People don’t usually say the word ‘beautiful’ in the same sentence with me. But I know what you mean. Is that why you took it up?”
“Nope. I did it because I needed to defend myself. When I was eighteen, something terrible happened to me. After I was raped, this was how I learned to feel confident again.”
His eyebrows flew upward. “Jesus. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. It was a while ago. I started with aikido first, but it felt too staged.”
“Yeah, I get that,” he said. “Hey—you can help me study for my next belt test. I need some one-step sparring practice.”
Georgia grinned. Sparring with O’Doul could be a hoot. “Okay! Let’s go. I see a mat in there.” They’d reached the stretching room where yoga would be held. He waited politely for her to enter the room first, and she slid past him. “There’s nobody else in here yet. Quick—drop me, Doulie.”
“I knew you were fun.” He chuckled. He gave her a quick bow then relaxed into a preparation stance, while she waited with a grin on her face.
THIRTY
Leo followed Silas and Castro out of the dressing room and into the dank basement hallway. “Classy place,” he muttered.
“It reminds me of a horror movie set,” Silas quipped. “Didn’t Psycho have some basement scenes?”
“Dude, The Silence of the Lambs,” Castro suggested. “It puts the lotion in the basket.”
Silas snickered as they turned a corner, finding nothing but an old mop bucket and a dead end. “Shit, are we lost?” he asked.
“Wait, this isn’t a horror movie,” Castro said as they all spun around. “This is Spinal Tap.” He stopped beside a door marked Steam Chute 17 and pounded on it. “HELLO, CLEVELAND! I always wanted to say that.”
“Cross that off the bucket list,” Silas agreed.
“Wait, I heard voices,” Leo said as they approached another turn.
“I see dead people,” Silas countered.
“Aren’t you both just hysterical,” Leo grumbled. “Hustle, though. I’m not getting left off the game card tonight just to hear more of your movie trivia.”
“We all know I won’t be playing,” Silas muttered. “Might as well take the scenic route.”
But there was no scenic route, and Leo picked up the pace. He turned left and spotted the long hallway they needed. And this one had an arrow stenciled in paint on the wall beside the words “training facility.”
“Here we go,” someone said as they all turned in the proper direction, finally.
They walked onward. And it was really just happenstance that Leo lifted his chin toward the distant end of the hall at exactly the right moment. He saw two figures through a doorway at the opposite end of the hall, and one of them was Georgia. He knew the shine of her hair and her supermodel posture even in bad lighting at a hundred paces. He might have called out a greeting, except the man beside Georgia raised an arm and grabbed her, yanking her out of sight, into the shadows.
Later, he wouldn’t even be able to recall the fifty yard sprint down the hall.