One Last Fight: Part One (The One Last Fight #1) Page 2

  The doctor finally walks into the room while Quentin is searching for his next line. I’m ready for a once-over or something, but Dr. Harris simply asks a few questions, reads through my chart, and signs off.

  “Get some rest and recover, okay? And good luck with that match.”

  “Thank you.” I hold out my hand for a shake.

  When we’re alone, Quentin gives me his pretty-please look. It was probably cute when he was seven... so like fifty years ago.

  I grab my bag with an exasperated growl. Quentin takes the bag from me as we head out the door and walk toward the elevator. Two nurses pass us and smile at me.

  “Come on, Rafe. We’ll make good money and get good promotion on this, and you’ll have something to do. It’s not like you’re actually going to commit to someone and marry them, for Christ’s sake. It’s just a show, an entertainment show.”

  “Just a show?”

  “Yeah, easy-peasy. Easy money, beautiful women flirting with you, and your name out there reaching the right age group. What do you say? For me? For old Quentin?”

  A sense of finality settles over me. He wants me to do this, and he’s always done right by me.

  “Ahh, fuck.”

  Quentin punches the air in victory.

  Chapter Two

  Lily

  This is it. I’m really doing this. I pull in a deep breath and center myself, then get out of the car and march inside the studio, which is actually a large beach house. I’ve been instructed to go in a side door where they house the offices. It’s just an introduction interview. Nothing major. I can talk on camera. Besides, if I want to go on a reality dating show, I have to get used to cameras watching me.

  So far, I’ve learned I’ll be living here at this beach house for the duration of taping, which will be anywhere from three to six weeks. We can get passes to leave if we have a good reason. There’s going to be elimination competitions every few days. It sounds like they’ll tape everything in the house and the competitions, which might be here, on the beach or in the surrounding area.

  But it’s not the cameras that are making me nervous. It’s the thought of seeing him again, and knowing how hard this will be. I’m both amped up and nervous. I want to jump in, but I’m also getting that fight-or-flight response, making my stomach turn. I try to grab on to that energy, to channel it for this interview.

  The receptionist is an overdone forty-year-old, but her smile is genuine and puts me at ease. “They’re waiting for ya, hon. And I love that necklace!”

  Sure enough, men’s voices float down the hall and a tall, skinny guy in a suit rushes toward me with his hands out to take mine in a big handshake.

  “Liam?” I ask. He has a three-day beard that looks good and his hair pulled up into a high bun.

  “Yes, good guess. Lily Sullivan, so good to see you in person. Come on back. We’re excited to get started. How are you feeling? Ready?”

  We walk into a room that’s set up for shooting with a comfortable couch on a stage and MMA posters behind it on the wall. There’re several more guys and two cameramen. The lighting is low near the door and brighter on the couch.

  “So we’ll have fifteen women all together, you and fourteen others. Everyone will shoot a little video introduction. We’ll slice bits and pieces into the first episode or two as viewers get to know you, and use it in the promos too, of course.”

  “Sure.” Fifteen women. I’ve been trying not to think about that part.

  Several of the posters show Rafe. I try to hold myself still and expressionless as the shock waves roll through my body. One poster is black and white. He’s sitting shirtless, his head tilted just a little and something mysterious in his dark eyes. His mouth is one degree under a smile—he has a pouty Elvis mouth that doesn’t belong on a fighter’s face. It’s just too sensual. He has a strong nose and brows that balance out the sexuality in his mouth. Of course, I don’t let that fool me. He can look fierce when he wants to.

  His left arm is inked with a full-sleeve tattoo with a coy fish and blue water around it and a few flowers blended in. I’ve caught glimpses of his tattoos on TV, but I couldn’t see much. I want to take a closer inspection but decide not to walk over. In this poster, his elbows rest on his knees, and one hand is crossed over the other at the wrist. He still has nice hands. Long fingers. They look like an artist’s hands, but instead, he uses them to pummel other men for a living.

  It suddenly hits me there is something missing. When I watched one of his fights, I noticed scars on his sides and back, like he’d been in a bad knife fight. Those are photoshopped out of these posters. Is Rafe self-conscious about them? Or did someone else make the decision to doctor the photos?

  “Lily, this is Jennifer. She’ll be doing your makeup.”

  “Makeup?” I turn around to find a petite but perky looking twenty-something. She has short black hair, a nose ring, and dark red lips.

  “Wow, I love your hair.” She reaches up to grab a handful of curls. “Please tell me you love your hair.”

  I laugh and say, “Yup, it’s my hair. I’ve come to terms with the craziness.”

  “You style it well. But you don’t wear much makeup?” she asks as we walk.

  “Well, I figured you’d redo it anyway. And I don’t always wear a lot these days,” I say. From the way she asked that, it sounds like the staff knows about the contestants and their pasts. I’m so curious, I come out and ask her, “Did you ask that because of what’s in my file?”

  She blushes. “Sorry. Not everyone gets to see those, but I asked to see photos ahead of time for the makeup.”

  “I was just wondering,” I say, relieved that maybe it’s not out there for everyone to know. She’s put me at ease, so I add, “Yeah, I used to do big and flashy makeup for dancing.”

  Jennifer flicks a look down my body. “You certainly have the body for it. Did you like all that attention?”

  I don’t normally talk about this, or anything personal, but for some reason, I want to explain to her. It rubs me the wrong way that she thinks I did it for the fun of it.

  “It paid the bills,” I say slowly, not wanting to relive those dark times, but I find myself adding, “My mom got really sick while I was growing up, and then I took care of her and paid the medical bills. That was the only way to make enough money.”

  She makes an understanding sound. “My aunt died of breast cancer. It’s hard. I’m sorry you went through that.”

  “Thanks,” I say, surprised that my voice comes out in just a whisper. She leads me to a chair in another room and goes to work, applying primer, foundation, and more mascara, eyeliner, and eye shadow. She explains it needs to be heavier to show up on camera.

  My mind stays in the past, though, and I only half listen to her talk. I know it was the only way, but it haunts me sometimes, the things I did back then. Sometimes I even thought about giving in to the temptation when the other girls offered me coke. When I realized how blurred my lines were becoming, I wanted to quit.

  But I had to take care of my mother. She got too sick to get out of bed, and she hated that I had to take care of her and put my life on hold. It wasn’t her fault, but I could never make her stop feeling guilty. At least I had a goal to work toward and I knew I’d get out. And I did. So I’ve put it behind me for the most part, except when it finds its way back into my thoughts, like today.

  Liam enters the room, and while Jennifer works her magic on my face, he talks.

  “So we want to focus on the old-flame aspect. You know, how you knew Rafe and how that’ll help you in the show. And maybe later on we can look at how he’s changed.”

  “All right,” I say, not wanting to actually talk about any of that. Then I notice Jennifer is standing back to check my makeup.

  “How’s that?” She gives Liam a glance and they both stare at me. I try to sit still and wait them out.

  “Terrific.” He gestures for me to come with him. I grab a quick look in the mirror as I leave, seeing m
y eyes pop with the dark-purple liner she applied. She brought out my cheekbones with blush too. We return to the room and everyone moves into place.

  “Please, get comfortable.” Liam gestures to the couch. As I sit down, he adds, “Sink in. Relax. You’re here to have a talk with your girlfriend, okay? The camera is your friend. We’re all just background.”

  Yeah, right. I smile anyway and fold a leg under me, trying my best to relax into the soft cushions. Might as well get comfortable for them to pry into my personal life, right? They get set and the cameras start rolling. There’s a big one in front of me and two smaller ones off to the sides to get different angles. Geesh. Talk about feeling like a bug under a microscope.

  “Great, great! That’s perfect. So, Lily, tell us what you’re doing with your life right now.”

  Good, something easy. I find myself smiling. “My name is Lily, I’m twenty-four years old, and I’m in school to be a veterinarian.”

  “Really? Wow, that’s great. Why did you decide on that?”

  This is all on my application, but I know it’s for the cameras.

  “I want to help animals. I’ve always loved them,” I say, while in my mind I see my poor, dead, tortured cat that some bored teenagers beat with a baseball bat and left in my backyard. I see a young, slender Rafe pulling me into his arms while I cried.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  I jerk back. “Oh, uh...”

  “Something about Rafe?” Liam asks. Even though I’m having a hard time seeing his face through the lights, I have a feeling he’s grinning back there in the shadows.

  “Well, I was just remembering a time when my cat died and Rafe was there for me. We were really young, around eight. That partly inspired my wanting to be a vet.”

  “So you’ve known him a long time?”

  Feels like forever, except I lost him several years ago.

  “Yeah, we were best friends growing up. We both needed a friend and we helped each other, you know, in our neighborhood.”

  “So people knew not to mess with you with Rafe around.”

  Liam motions for the cameras to zoom in.

  I knew this was coming, but it’s still hard to even think about, or try to wrap my brain around so I can explain it. “Rafe was my next door neighbor. Our trailers were feet apart, actually. The park we lived in wasn’t the best.” I shrug. I don’t want to explain those years in much detail, when we had to deal with drugs in the trailer park, bullies, gangs, and to put it mildly, Rafe’s parents weren’t nice. “We were there for each other, yeah. Sometimes he had to get away from his mom cause she yelled at him, or his dad when he was around. His dad got violent sometimes. Rafe said I calmed him down. We took off together all the time, too, just to get away from life in our neighborhood. And he defended me. Told people not to mess with me. He taught me how to hit and defend myself if I needed to. So yeah, he helped me be tougher.”

  “Hmm...” Liam is quiet for a long minute. “So what was life like there?”

  They know a little bit about my mother and childhood from my application and maybe doing some research into my life. I feel exposed, but I signed up for this.

  “My mother got sick when I was eight and couldn’t work anymore. We knew she wouldn’t get better. Eventually, she couldn’t take care of herself, let alone the house or me. I helped her because we couldn’t afford to have nurses come in all the time. I tried to take care of her and myself the best I could. I was on my own a lot.”

  “And you and Rafe became close?”

  “Well, yes.” They probably want me to say more, but I can’t make myself do it.

  “When did you last talk to Rafe?”

  I pull in a breath. “Six years ago...”

  “So what happened? Why did things end? Is that when things ended?”

  Did Rafe have any input into these questions?

  “Lily?”

  “Well, I had my mom to take care of. I really had to focus on her because she was sick.”

  “Was?”

  Of course he’d jump on that.

  “Yes, she died... After that, Rafe and I didn’t know what to say to each other. So I broke things off...” Man, I should not have shared that.

  “You did?” Liam’s voice held real surprise.

  “We weren’t close anymore... and...”

  “So you grew apart?” he prompted.

  I nod slowly. It’s not true. I abandoned Rafe.

  “So why are you here?”

  “I want to see him again.” A very simple answer. That one is true. I want to see him and hear his voice and tell him how sorry I am, but I won’t share that with them yet. Or admit I need to tell Rafe something.

  “So you couldn’t just contact him and meet up?”

  I lower my head before I answer. “We stopped talking to each other, and when I’ve tried calling his people, I was always given the run around. I haven’t been able to get through to him. I had to find a way to talk to him again. This is it. I’m going to do whatever it takes to get through to him.”

  There’s a pause. Maybe I shared too much. That’s what they wanted, though.

  “What do you mean by ‘get through to him’?”

  I sigh. All this reflecting is starting to wear on me. “I want to reconnect with Rafe... and I know it’ll be hard. I’m prepared to face many obstacles along the way.”

  “Do you have a game plan?”

  “I’m going to have to judge the situation in real time and make adjustments.”

  “You want to win his heart again?”

  I flash a big smile, partly because I’m picturing Rafe and partly because I know they want it.

  “Can you tell us that?”

  Oh, fricking A. I try to hold the enthusiasm on my face and say, “I want to win his heart again.”

  There’s your clip.

  “What do you think his reaction will be?”

  I suck in a breath, and I bet the camera caught that too.

  “I’m not sure, to tell you the truth. I hope he’ll talk to me. He might not care anymore, or he might just...” Just what? Ignore me? Tell me off? Which would be worse? Everyone is holding their breath, waiting for me. “I’m sure it’ll be hard seeing me. For both of us, it’ll be hard to see the other. I’m prepared for that. I guess I’ll have to see how things go. I’ll have to be prepared for anything.”

  It’s the most honest I’ve been in this interview.

  “Is that enough?” I ask, more than ready to escape.

  It takes Liam a minute to answer. “Yes, that’ll do for now. Good job, Lily. Be back here at ten o’clock on Wednesday, all right?”

  I hurry out of the taping room and down the hall, and when I turn the corner, I almost run into another woman. We give each other a once-over, sizing up our competition. She’s taller than me with darker skin and long, dark, straight hair, and her startled expression fades into a small, knowing smile.

  “Here for the dating show?” she asks, breaking the building awkwardness.

  “Uh, yeah. I just did my introduction interview.”

  “How was it?” She watches me curiously.

  “Okay, I guess.”

  “Not too personal?”

  And what kind of personal things is she worried about? Does Rafe have other old flames on the show? I stuff that thought deep down into my brain and shake my head. “No, not too bad. I survived.”

  “They keep talking about adding more drama and conflict. I guess we’ll have to go at it with everyone.” Her tone seems to say she’s as happy about that as I am.

  “Yeah, right, I know. Just what we need in our lives, right? More conflict and problems. But it’s all fake. The other contestants will understand that too.”

  She laughs, and I start to think we could blur the lines and not be complete enemies.

  I add, “I’m Lily.”

  “Kara.”

  We shake hands and I nod as I leave. So step one is done. Now the show will be starting, and my life wil
l be completely different. Let’s hope it’s for the better, because I really have no idea how Rafe feels about me being on this show. At least he hasn’t found a way to kick me off before we even start.

  Chapter Three

  Rafe

  How the fuck did I go from fighting and training to wasting my time on this stupid dating show? Oh yeah, Quentin and his “something more” shit. I don’t know about all that. I’m just hoping this show can be fun. After all, it’s a bunch of women who all want me. What man wouldn’t love that? I just need to keep it in perspective.

  Where is Quentin now? I pull through the main gate and up the drive to the beach house where we’ll be shooting. It houses the offices and video editing rooms, too, so they can do a lot of the work here on site. It’s a sprawling stucco mini-mansion, much like you’d expect on the California coast this close to Hollywood.

  Quentin’s old Mustang convertible isn’t anywhere to be seen. He said he’d meet me here early to talk with the producers before the women arrive for the first day of shooting. I park with the other expensive cars down on the end, probably owned by the directors and producers.

  Inside the house, men’s voices come from an office and I hear staff around the house. The air is electric with the excitement of a new project starting. The staff is probably nervous about getting this new show off the ground. I know there’s a lot of money riding on this show with investors and studios. I grin because I don’t have to worry about any of that. I’m just here to look good.

  “Rafe!” Liam strolls into the room with his arms out like he’s greeting his best friend. The guy is enthusiastic about his job.

  “Liam, good to see you.” I shake his hand. He flinches and I realize I’m squeezing too hard. He’s a slender Hollywood type who relies on charm, not muscle. I try to lighten up as I greet Mike Ruddy, the producer, and the other staff who came in with them.

  Liam takes me into his office where we go over the show’s layout and what I’ll be doing.

  “So, you ready for today?” he asks.

  “Yeah, let’s get this thing moving finally.”

  “Great, let’s go see the big room. It’s where we’ll do the group discussions and where you’ll announce who goes home.”