Page 9 of Love to Stay

"I don't know." Mick notices my resolve is fading because he pounces.

"I'll book the ticket and send a car for you." He starts clicking away on his computer.

"Wait."

"No." The one word comes out with a finality I have never heard from him before. It brokers no argument.

I'm not sure if I'm too exhausted to fight him or that deep down I really just want to go even though I shouldn’t.

Either way, that's how Mick has me on a plane to Vegas only hours later.

Chapter Seven

MICK

“How serious is Pedro about the no babes, no booze rule?” I ask Dee. I saw on social media that he, Simba, and a few others were at the Luxor to see some dancers. The strip isn’t too far from where I’m staying, so I was able to drive over there before they had moved on to a new club.

Dee looks at my Coke. “You thinking about breaking some rules, Straight?”

Not the rules you’re thinking of. Who would waste their career on beer?“Just weighing my options.”

Dee shrugs. “It all depends on if you get caught.”

“None of your crew get training from Pedro,” I point out.

“He’s not the only trainer in the industry,” Simba grunts from his corner.

“The best one though.” I don’t add that they are all still at his gym and that even though some of them have been working out months or even years at Pedro’s, I can beat them all in under a minute.

“It’s all about balance, my friend.” Dee gestures toward the stage where the dancers are gyrating to a song about a girl’s favorite positions. “If you don’t let out some steam, you won’t beable to concentrate. Isn’t that why you got pounded in the ribs by O.P. the other day?”

The gym gossips like the clients at my sister’s hair salon. Josie did distract me—not because she’s around, but because she isn’t. Once she lands, once she’s with me, I won’t be worrying about her.

“Look, we”—Dee gestures around the table—“aren’t going to rat you out, and as long as you don’t skip a practice or show up late, Pedro will never know.”

“So how’d you guys get found out?”

Simba lets out a sharp bark of a laugh. “Cuz Dee here was seeing a showgirl, and he didn’t like how a customer was getting handsy with her. He caused a little ruckus, and we couldn’t let him fight on his own, so we all ended up getting dragged down to the jail. Pedro paid out bail but told us he wouldn’t train us anymore.”

“When was this?”

“About six months ago. We’re softening him up. He’ll let us back into the inner circle.” Dee sounds confident. Maybe it’s bravado. I pay for the next round, drink my Coke, and then leave because Josie is landing soon.

I park in the hundred dollar a minute short-term lot—yes, an exaggeration but not by much—and hustle down to the arrivals gates. There are a bunch of black-suited guys with little placards. I should have done one for Josie. She would’ve died of embarrassment, but there’s no place at the arrivals to buy supplies, so I settle for writing her name with my finger in my notes app and holding it up. My lame efforts are rewarded when she spots me and turns red. She gives me the finger but has a big smile on her face when she reaches me.

“You’re such a loser,” she jabs.

“The loser you’re visiting, so what does that make you?”

“Desperate.”

Well, that puts me in my place. “I guess that’s why I’m your only friend.” I reach for her bag. It’s very light. Like one change of clothing light. “You have more luggage?”

“No, only this.” She starts toward the door. It’s the wrong exit.

I take her by the shoulders and turn her to the correct one. “Why so light?”

“I don’t plan on staying long.”

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