Page 59 of A Fighter’s Love

“Don’t think I won’t check.”

Luckily Jenny arrived at work on time. She raised an eyebrow or two from colleagues unused to seeing her in jeans and even less used to seeing her in heels and a sassy silk top.

Stella was out of the office. Andre was at a meeting in Oxford and she’d gone with him to take notes. Jenny had smiled when Stella had told her. Taking notes, that was a new way of saying she was sleeping with the boss. Oxford was only an hour away and Jenny had seen Stella booking a nice hotel so they could travel up the evening before. But she hadn’t said anything. That was Stella and Andre’s business, not hers.

Tristan was in the office, though, and in his usual brisk manner had set Jenny a couple of extra tasks to be getting on with. When she’d first taken up employment, with him as one of her new bosses, his no-nonsense demeanor had upset her, and made her constantly wonder what she’d done to offend him. Then she’d realized it was just Tristan’s way. He was sharp and focused. Maximum efficiency was what he strived for as was the success of the company. Which of course benefitted them all. The better Wainwright and Bramon were doing, the more people were employed, the better the wages, and everyone was happy.

She’d just made her mid-morning coffee when the elevator pinged. She didn’t take much notice of it, and continued to study a complicated spreadsheet.

A shadow loomed over the desk and a feeling of dread crept across her skin.

“Hey, Jenny.”

Billy’s voice seeped into her, seeming to bring with it a bad taste that settled on her tongue.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, frowning up at him.

“Did you get the flowers?”

“Yes. You shouldn’t have.”

“Only the best for my girl.”

“I’m not your girl, Billy. I’ve made that clear.” She spotted a couple of other members of the team looking her way. Jenny wasn’t one of the employees who had male visitors popping in. So one who looked like he’d overdosed on steroids and also had a booming voice commanded attention—unwanted attention.

“We can fix this.” He crossed his beefy arms.

“No, we can’t. It’s over.” She sighed and shook her head. “Please leave, I’m very busy.”

“I need you to do something for me.”

“What?” Had she heard him right? He was asking for her help…again.

“Yeah, the health and safety officer from the damn council is coming over this evening. To do the fire checks and all that shit. The rules have changed. They’re saying you have to be there, since you filed for the license.”

“It’s your club. You do it.”

“Well I bloody well would if I could.” He squeezed his arms tighter and his knuckles pressed against his biceps, causing them to bulge. “But they’re not having it. Bunch of fucking paper pushers.”

She frowned.

“And if I don’t get this license there’ll be no fight on Friday. All your hard work for getting the tickets sold, which they all have by the way, will be to waste.”

“They’ve all sold?” She was pleased. It was great for Jackson, and showed what a crowd drawer he was becoming.

“Yeah, so that’s a lot of people you’ll let down, Jen, if you don’t sort this out for the club.”

She tutted. It seemed she’d been backed into a corner. And she did vaguely remember the document stating she had to be there for the inspectionandthe event since she was the lead name.

“Great.” Billy took her silence as an agreement. “About seven then, tonight.”

“I’ll be there,” she said. “But I’m doing it for the club, for Jackson and Michael who have worked so hard to make sure he’s ready for Grinder. Not for you and not for us because there is no us.”

Billy pressed his knuckles on the table and leaned forward. “What’s got into you, eh? You never used to be such a bitch.”

“Such a bitch? I’ve just agreed to help you out massively. How is that being a bitch?”

Billy didn’t answer, because at that moment a delivery man appeared at his side holding a huge bunch of pink, lilac and white flowers set in a large, round-bottomed glass vase containing sparkling pebbles. “Ms. Jenny Jones?”

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