Page 22 of Kiss Me Forever

"Hang on."

Alex gunned the motor and with a decided squeal of the tires, he made a sharp right turn and sped down the street. It soon became apparent that they were traveling to the other side of town, to a neighborhood very far from the one in which Alex lived.

* * *

The streets in the area of San Francisco known as the Tenderloin were dark and grimy with homeless people on every corner and an air of poverty and despair. Alex's Mercedes came under scrutiny every time they had to stop at an intersection. Andrea instinctively locked her door at one particularly seedy corner.

The motion brought Alex's gaze to her face. "Not your scene? Do you want me to take you home?"

"No. I'm a reporter. I'm used to following stories wherever they go."

"Even to hell?" he said dryly.

"Where are we really going?"

"You'll see."

He drove down another block, past a liquor store, a pawn shop and a bar boasting ninety-nine cent tacos. It was not the San Francisco of the tourist brochures, the cosmopolitan city where people like Alex Donovan wined and dined in fancy restaurants or on elegant yachts. It was an urban neighborhood suffering from harsh economic realities.

She couldn't imagine where they were going. Maybe Alex was taking a shortcut. It was the only answer that made sense. What business would he have on a street like this?

Eventually, he turned into an alley, the passageway so narrow Andrea thought she could reach out a hand and touch the buildings they were passing. Finally the alley opened up and set back to one side was a parking lot and a dirty white sign that readTo Hell And Back.

Alex pulled into a spot and cut the engine. Then he waved his hand at the sign. "You thought I was kidding."

"What is this place?"

"For a few weeks a long time ago, it was my home."

"Really?" She was more than a little intrigued by the first personal piece of information he'd revealed.

"Let's go inside."

"All right." She followed him through a large warehouse door. One step into the lobby area told her they had entered a gym. While the outside of the building had been less than stellar, the inside was modern and clean. A teenager with a baseball cap on backwards was typing on a computer behind the counter. He stood up and gave Alex a high five.

"Haven't seen you in a while," the kid said.

"I've been working," Alex replied. "Andrea Blain, meet Sammy Jordan."

"Nice to meet you."

"You, too." He turned to Alex. "Are you looking for some action today?"

"No, I need to see Mick. Is he in his office?"

"He's working the ring."

"Thanks," Alex said, as the boy sat down, returning his attention to his computer.

Alex led her through another set of double doors that led into a large open space. She paused for a moment to take it all in. There were weights and fitness machines on one side of the room, with at least a dozen guys working out. Then there was a large area with nothing but boxing bags hanging from the ceiling. An instructor was showing a kid how to use his legs in a kickboxing maneuver. Finally, there were two glass-walled rooms that appeared to be exercise studios, although there were no classes currently in session.

Alex moved toward the boxing ring where two teenage boys were battling while a middle-aged man oversaw their match. As they walked across the gym, Andrea was more than aware of a few gazes turning in their direction.

"Everyone is looking at us," she murmured. "You must be well-known around here."

He gave her a dry smile. "It's all you, Andrea. Not many women come through those doors."

"So what are we doing here?"

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