In Her Corner

“Excuse me, are you Bella Fiore?”

A man in white shirtsleeves flashed a smile big enough to carry a logo. His thin black tie was loosened and he carried his dark gray suit jacket slung across one shoulder. She got the distinct impression he had to make a real effort to look that casual. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and handed her a business card. “Ryan Holbrooke. I’m a fight manager and agent.”

She wiped her arm across her sweaty brow and took the card with a gloved hand. “Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Holbrooke?”

“Call me Ryan, please. I’d heard you’d come from Brazil to train here and I wanted to stop by and meet you in person. I’m a big fan. I was hoping we could grab a drink sometime and discuss what your future might look like.”

She scratched her nose. “I appreciate the offer, but my family’s never used managers or agents. We take care of our own careers and book our own fights.”

“Oh, so you have a fight coming up?”

She bit her lip. “Well, no...”

“Because I happen to know of an upcoming event, and you’re exactly what their card needs.”

She gave him a skeptical once-over. On the surface everything about him seemed legit, but he gave off a vibe she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “What’s the fight?”

“I won’t lie, it’s local. Kind of small, but it’s a well-stacked league. Ever hear of Fury Fights?”

“Vaguely.”

“Well, they do a convention and exhibition card mid-November. Your opponent’s from Kansas—Betty The Hammer.”

“Yeah, I know of Betty Heimer,” Bella said. She’d fought and lost against one of Bella’s opponents a couple years back.

Ryan nodded. “I’ve got plenty more details. I’d be happy to discuss them with you.”

He was earnest, and he seemed open. It wouldn’t hurt to talk. If nothing else, she’d get free drinks.

They agreed on a time and place, and then Ryan left with a wave.

“Was that Ryan Holbrooke I saw walk out?” Tito asked.

“Yeah. Do you know him?”

“He’s a sports agent. He works with a lot of MMA fighters and boxers. You were talking to him?”

“He wants me to meet him for drinks. Says he might have a fight for me.”

“Huh. Interesting.” Tito folded his arms.

“What? You don’t think I should?”

“No, no. He’s an okay agent, I guess. He’s helped get his clients signed with some pretty big sponsors.”

“I hear a ‘but’ in there.”

Tito lifted one thick shoulder. “It’s nothing personal. For me, anyhow.”

“But it’s personal for someone...like Kyle?” she ventured.

His lips flattened out. “They have a thing.”

Bella scoffed. Were they in high school or something? Regardless, talking with Ryan Holbrooke shouldn’t be any concern of Kyle’s. If he had issues, he could bring them up with her. He was good at that.

“Do me a favor. Be careful around Ryan,” Tito warned. “He’s a smooth one.”

* * *

RYAN HOLBROOKE WAS smooth, all right. He met her at a swank restaurant in the Garden District where they started with drinks at the bar, then, as their conversation lengthened, moved to the restaurant for dinner. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought it was a date.

She had to admit she was flattered by his attention, how he hung on her every word. Then again, if he wanted to snag her as a client, she didn’t expect him to ignore her the way Kyle did.

She’d done a quick internet search to check Ryan Holbrooke’s credentials, and he seemed to be the genuine article. He was good-looking, too, with flirty blue eyes, jet-black hair and a cocksure smile. He knew MMA, and had even competed for a while, so they didn’t run out of things to talk about. He didn’t challenge her or make her work too hard to like him. She’d forgotten what it was like to be with someone who appreciated her for who she was rather than someone who tried to mold her into something she wasn’t.

Ryan paused and regarded her frankly. “I have to ask...how is it a girl like you is still single? You are single, aren’t you?”

Her cheek ticked. “I’m not comfortable talking about it.” It wasn’t that the story made her particularly sad, but she’d just met Ryan, and sharing this kind of intimacy with him didn’t feel...natural. Besides, it wasn’t any of his business.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He sounded as though he were the offended party. He was rubbing his left thumb against his bare ring finger, and he held up his hand when he noticed her looking. “Three years divorced,” he confirmed with a wry twist of his lips. “My ex didn’t understand the demands of my job. We didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things. Honestly, I’m better off without her.”

“Tell me more about this fight,” she said, hoping to change the subject. They hadn’t gotten around to it with everything else they’d been discussing. “You mentioned Betty Heimer, but last I checked, she was in the 145-pound division.”

“She had a kid and put on some weight. This’ll be her first fight since she’s been back. I think it’ll be an easy one to win.”

“I don’t take fights because they’re easy to win,” she said, irritated he’d even suggested it. There was nothing worse than a mismatched opponent.

“That’s not what I meant. Like I said, it’s a convention with a small-time exhibition. More to showcase local talent, drum up publicity. Probably two or three hundred spectators, tops, which, at this stage in your career, is pretty good.”

“I’ve fought for bigger crowds.”

“But that was when you were fighting under your family’s banner. Their backing got you sponsors. Do you have sponsors now? Don’t answer that, I already know.” He named them. He’d done his research, apparently.

“Everyone knows the Fiore name, but as a fighter, you need to build your personal profile. Get on social media, get your face in magazines, market yourself, that kind of thing. A fight right here in New Orleans will drum up some good publicity to start.”

“And you’re the guy to help me?”

“I wouldn’t have come to Payette’s to see you if I didn’t think you were worth it. I don’t know if anyone told you, but Kyle and I don’t have a great working relationship. In fact, I’m thinking you could do better at a place like Star Gyms.”

She knew of the national chain of high-end, full-service boutique fitness centers. They had a price tag to match the facilities, but that wasn’t her issue. Bella fixed her mother’s patented listen-to-me glare on Ryan. “I’m staying at Payette’s. I signed a contract to stay on for six months. Besides, we’re working with an at-risk youth center, and I won’t give up on them.”

Ryan raised his hands placatingly. “Hey, no sweat. I’m just here to offer my services to help you become a champ in all the aspects that your coaches can’t train you in. What you’re doing at Payette’s is admirable—plus that community outreach stuff is PR gold.” He flashed those billboard teeth again. “Listen, I’ll be totally up-front. I like you, not only as a client, but as a person. In my business, that’s rare.” He shifted forward in his seat. “You’re twenty-six, right? How many more years do you want to fight for?”

She shrugged. “If injuries don’t slow me down? Realistically...I dunno...till I’m thirty-three? Thirty-five?” She hadn’t thought quite that far ahead. She knew she’d have to stop for a year or two if she had children. And some fighters continued well into their forties, though she wasn’t sure she’d be one of them. Quite frankly, it was hard to envision the future beyond the next match.

“Let’s say you decide to quit at thirty-five. That means you’ve got less than nine years to scrape together enough for whatever you want to do afterward. There is an afterward, you know, and a lot of athletes don’t realize that unless you get a sweet deal with a big-name brand, sponsorship money dries up pretty quick. Do you have any idea what you’ll do once you quit fighting?”

“Train others,” she said automatically. It was what her family had always done—pass on their teachings and raise new fighters on the Fiore system. “Work in my family’s gym, I guess.”