Page 43 of Seducing Cinderella

Stan scoffed. “Live out there as what? A retired has-been fighter living off his son’s charity? No thanks. I shoulda been your manager.”

Reid worked his jaw and repeated a calming mantra in his head several times before allowing himself to speak again. “Look, I didn’t come here to argue. I was in the area and thought I’d say hi—talk—but if you’re too busy that’s fine, too.”

After a minute or two of staring at each other, his dad finally showed signs of life. “Peterson. Grady. Hit the bags for a while. You,” he said pointing at Reid, “come with me.”

Reid followed his dad into the small office consisting of a worn metal desk and a couple of folding chairs in front of it. Stan sat behind the desk in the beat-up vinyl chair sporting several strips of silver duct tape to hold torn edges together. Reid spun one of the chairs around and straddled it, laying his forearms on the back. Everything in him told him to get up and leave. He knew he wasn’t going to get any feel-good sentiments from his father. At least, that’s how things would’ve gone years ago. Maybe his father had softened over the years.

Yeah, and maybe his mom would walk through the door and say how she hadn’t meant to leave them like a pair of shoes she no longer cared about.

One of the things his father had taught Reid was to analyze people’s body language. If you paid attention to that—whether in a fight or out of one—you could almost always anticipate your opponent’s next move or how they’d react to yours.

The older man leaned back in the chair and folded his arms over his barrel chest. He was guarded and unhappy about his son’s surprise visit. “Why’re you here? I’m sure you’re not looking for any pointers with all them fancy trainers you have back in Vegas. You come to gloat about your success?”

“Jesus, Pop, can’t you just drop your resentment of life for one fucking minute?” When all he did was scoff, Reid took a deep breath and tried for civil. “I have a fight coming up. It’s a title fight to win my belt back from Diaz.”

“Yeah. I know all about it.” Stan gestured toward Reid’s arm. “Shoulder healed?”

The fact that his father knew about his fight and his injury shouldn’t surprise him. Being an active coach, it only made sense that he still followed the sport. But damn if that little kid inside of Reid didn’t swell with pride at knowing his dad was up to date on his life. Stupid kid.

“Almost a hundred percent. I’ve been working with a really great PT. She’s worked fucking miracles with it. Actually, you know her. Lucie, Jackson Maris’s little sister. Remember her?”

Reid was taking a chance bringing up the Maris family for any reason with his father. Since Reid had spent any spare time he had at Jackson’s house, the relationship between the adults had been strained to say the least.

His dad stroked the stubble on his jaw with one hand as he thought back. Then he grunted. “Quiet little thing. Kinda gangly and awkward if memory serves.”

“Not anymore,” Reid said with a half smile. “She’s gorgeous, not to mention totally amazing. But, yeah, that’s the one.”

Stan leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “You fucking love her or something?”

“No, it’s not like that. I mean, yeah, I really care for her—” Reid cursed on an exhale. “I was thinking about maybe trying to do the whole relationship thing. See where it leads.”

Stan jabbed a finger in his direction. “Now you listen to me, boy. You might be in the twilight of your career, but I’ll be damned if you haven’t managed to stay on top with as old as you are. You’d be a fucking idiot to throw that away for a woman.”

Reid stared his old man down and kept his jaw clenched tight to avoid yelling and causing a scene. “I’m not throwing anything away. There are plenty of guys that manage to have relationships while having careers in the UFC. Some are even married.”

“And how many of those”—he actually paused to make air quotes around the next word—“relationshipsactually last? I’ll tell you right now, there’s only two kinds of women out there. The kind that love the lifestyle, the publicity, the traveling. It’s what they crave, and it offsets all the shit they have to put up with to have it. But as soon as it’s gone, so are they.

“Then you have the kind of woman who won’t put up with the life. They might at first, and they’ll tell themselves that it’ll get better and the relationship is worth the sacrifices. But eventually they realize they deserve better than what we can give ’em, and then they’re gone, too.”

Reid stood up and pushed the chair out of his way. “Look, just because your wife left you, doesn’t mean the rest of the world is doomed to the same fate. Lucie isn’t like that.”

Stan slapped his hands on the desk as he rose, stormed around, and got right in Reid’s face. “That’s what you think! Youthinkyou know someone. Love them with everything you have and then they decide they’re better off without you and they leave. That’s reality, kid! So don’t go thinking you’re fucking special and the rules don’t apply to you.”

Reid’s temper flared and he raised his voice to match. “Think I’mspecial? Where the hell would I ever get a stupid idea like that? Sure as fuck wouldn’t be from you. You never let me forget I was only as good as my next win.”

“That’s because it’s the truth! We’re fighters, Reid! It’s who we are, what defines us.”

Reid lost the battle with controlling himself and let his emotions run. Yelling back, just like in his younger years, he said, “I love fighting, but being a fighter isnotthe only thing I am! It’snotall I’m good at!”

“Oh really?” Stan’s voice finally leveled out, but just because he wasn’t yelling didn’t make his response any less acrimonious. “I suppose you’re referring to your silly sketches and sculpting now. That’s just what every woman wants is a grown man who plays with clay all fucking day. Gimme a break.”

Old feelings of inadequacy bubbled to the surface, threatening to choke the breath from his body. Reid knew he’d gotten past all of his dad’s bullshit years ago, but for whatever reason, when it came to dealing with his old man, Reid felt like that insecure kid all over again.

His dad cursed, sank into the vinyl desk chair again, and dragged both hands down his tired-looking face. “You do what you want. It’s your life. But if you came to get my advice, here it is: You’ve got life by the balls, kid. You’ve got fame, fortune, and you can get laid all you want without any attachments. Keep it that way…and spare yourself the heartache.”

Reid scoffed and opened the office door, shaking his head. He’d known this visit wouldn’t go well, but his conscience wouldn’t let him blow off his old man regardless. Sometimes he wished his conscience was like the grasshopper fromPinocchio. That way when it caused him to do stupid shit like this, he could squash it under his heel.

“Thanks for the pep talk, Pop,” he tossed over his shoulder on his way out. “As always, it’s been a pleasure.”

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