Page 42 of Beauty and her Billionaire Beast
As the cheers turn to boos, I let the referee call the fight in my favor. I start to walk out of the ring, squeezing through the tide of the crowd.A sudden tightness grips me deep in my chest and I almost stop, but the push of people and the noise keeps me moving. Was it her? Did she show up to watch me in secret? She’d never come before, and that was okay with me, considering she detests violence in sports and hates the sight of blood. But why now? The last time I saw her she said she couldn’t stand to look at me, let alone talk. I try tolook around, to see if I can catch a glimpse of her, but it’s hopeless. There are too many faces to decipher. I have crowds too, so the feel of fans putting their hands all over my shoulders to congratulate me is enough to compel me to keep moving. I ignore the intermittent praise from Foster at my side and a few people from the team behind him while we make our way to thelockers.
Fosterdoesn’t pull out of his excited thrill-filled verbal recap of my victory until I’m back in my street clothes and headed for his yellow Maserati GranTurismo convertible parkedoutside.
“I wonder if that was her,” I muse to myself out loud, and he stops with his mouth ajar. It’s not my intention to direct the question at Foster, but now that he’s shut up about my win, I figure it can’t hurtto ask. “Did you seeher?”
“What?” he asks. “Seewho?”
“Isabelle.”
“See herwhere?”
“In the crowd justnow.”
He shakes his head and slaps my shoulder. “Are you outta your mind? Actually, don’t answer that. I’ll chalk up the question to winner’s blur. Isabelle? Hell no. You’d never find a woman like that in a place likethis.”
“I thought I sawher.”
“Take my advice, dude. Forget about her. You’re better off without thedrama.”
“What?” I look across the top of the car as he throws my gear in thetrunk.
“Never mind. I’m not getting into your woman problems after a win like that. Anyway, did you see Big Baby drop to the ground like a fucking felled tree? Jesus, man! I don’t know where you found all that fucking power. It wasa fucking honor towitness.”
“Drive me back to theHamptons.”
Without another word, Foster runs a satisfied hand through his wavy black hair, turns the engine and gets moving. I decide I’m not interested in changing the subject back to Isabelle. Not with him. How Isabelle and I fell apart so fast is the last thing I want to think about right after winning a fight against such a viciousopponent.
Foster goes quiet as well, and after a ninety-minute drive in perfect reverent silence, he drops me off outside the main house in theHamptons.
“Later,” he says as I open the cardoor.
“Yeah.” I head across the driveway, giving a polite nod to one of the cleaners leaving through the front door. As I walk to the pool house, all I want is for this throbbing ache tolast as long as it takes for my head to hit the pillow and sleep to come. I don’t want my last coherent thought to be of her, or the fact that the last time I was here, in my bedroom, under the sheets, it was with her, and now, she’s never comingback.
