She takes my hand and Juniper grabs my other one, and behind Jupiter, Hannah, and on we go. I glance down at my bright red daisy dukes and loose, silk strapless top—it's white and sparkly—and I pray I don't stick out like a sore thumb. Already I've noticed that the biggest difference between these gorgeous women and myself is my lack of muscle tone. Yeah, I've lost weight, but you can see my flab and cellulite if you look closely; they, on the other hand, are built like gymnasts, plus big boob.
When we finally make it to our seats, I'm stunned to find how close we are to the fighting platform. I guess it's called a 'ring'. It looks bigger than anything I've seen on TV: a bouncy-looking blue platform about a third the size of a basketball floor, surrounded by red 'ropes' attached to four yellow square posts at each corner.
There’s a platform around the ring that’s sunken, sort of like a moat, below the first row of seats, which is level with the ring. It’s packed with men in tight pants and women in bikinis. I notice a lot of fake tans and faker boobs and even what I think is probably fake hair. I wonder how many of these people are p**n stars, and feel kind of embarrassed that I have no idea. I've never watched a p**n o.
As I sink into my plastic bucket seat, I'm listening to Juniper and Loveless with only half an ear. So when I hear the name “Hunter” I actually whirl around toward Loveless. She's got her head craned toward Juniper, who's reading the program and speaking loudly to be heard over the crowd.
“He'll be fighting someone named Lockwood,” Juniper is saying. “There are five fights. Theirs is fourth.”
Loveless is nodding when I realize my mouth is hanging open. I shut it and turn back toward the ring, but it's too late. Juniper reaches around Loveless and grabs my elbow, shrieking, “You are holding out on me!”
I frown, trying my best to give her a ‘what the hell look,’ but Loveless is catching on now, too. She turns to Juniper. “Do you think she knows him?”
“Oh, I think she does.”
“I don't know what you guys are talking about,” I say loudly. A guy with taped fists and tiny black shorts is leaning up and waving to the crowd on the other side of the arena, so the noise level is at max.
Loveless gently grabs my chin and makes me meet her eyes. “Hunter West. You know him? Don't you lie to me, woman.”
“I'm not,” I say, but I can feel my stupid eye brows arching like they do sometimes when I lie. I look down at my knees, then Loveless shrieks and I put my head down in my hands.
“Holy shit, Scarlett! You sneaky little bitch!”
“I'm not sneaky,” I wail. “There's not a story here.”
“Oh, I'm quite sure she's lying,” Juniper says.
From around her, a blonde, gray-eyed girl leans. “What are we talking about?” she asks in a Southern accent.
“Oh, nothing,” Juniper says.
“Later,” Loveless says in my ear. She gives me a pointed look, one that says I should be sorry for lying, and I shake my head a little guiltily.
A minute later, music I think I recognize from Rocky starts playing over the intercom, and everyone's attention is shifted to the ring, where two guys are now stretching. I try to feign interest, but all I can think about is Hunter. I wonder how much space stretches from my chair and the ring. Twenty yards? Fifteen? Could he see me from the fight? What if he gets hurt?
You can't care, I tell myself. He's not your boyfriend.
He's a guy who has sex with escorts and dates p**n stars. A guy who has been nice to me a time or two. On a rational level, I know my feelings for him are about as realistic as a middle school girl’s crush on a pop star—and the chances of it being realized are pretty much the same, too.
But I have a bad gut feeling when I try to feel okay with the idea of him dating Priscilla. It’s her I should be worried about; I did see his hands around her neck. But when you look at Priscilla, you can see the bad in her. It's a woman thing, I think. Women convey so much without using words. Once you've seen one catty bitch, you've seen them all. And I know how to spot a catty bitch. Whatever Hunter is doing with her, she wants it, and what I really believe is that he does not.
The two men fighting first start to circle each other, and it’s a good distraction. As I watch the fight, I'm buoyed slightly by the other girls' enthusiasm. It only takes a second before word reaches my ear that the fighter with long black hair, Dominique Domino, is one of Marie V.'s clients. His opponent, a muscled guy with buzzed hair, is a p**n star.
Loveless cups her hands around my ear. "But he also pays for Marie V."
I gape. "Why?” I say near her ear. I try to lower my voice while still being audible. “Can't he get all the booty he wants, like...on the job?"
She nods. "But he likes it kinky," she hisses. "He wants to keep his image clean, so he pays for Marie V. for the weird stuff.” I don’t even want to imagine what depraved acts could ruin a p**n star’s reputation.
“I think he kind of likes her more than just professional," Loveless adds, and I arch my brows. "Oh."
She rolls her eyes. "That's a nice way of saying it."
I spend the rest of the fight wondering what she means, eventually deciding Marie V. is probably not a fan of Domino's affections.
The fight only lasts two more minutes before Domino clocks the p**n star—hard—making his nose spray blood and gaining his title in a fit of screaming and applause, and Loveless leans in close to me. "He's the possessive kind. Marie V. will have to cut him soon."
I wonder how many of those types of situations working women find themselves in, and I think I’ll ask later. I'm feeling more comfortable with Loveless and Juniper now—more like we're friends. For not the first time, I wonder if I'm just a job to them, just like the men are, but I shove the thought away. If they think of me that way, it's not a bad thing. I don’t need to get too attached. Plus, it wouldn’t be fair to pretend to be friends when they don’t even know who I am.
Juniper passes me a huge tub of popcorn, smiling, and it's like a confirmation that I'm right. We are becoming friends. I don’t want to enjoy the feeling, but I let myself off the hook. It’s easier to face everything with friends, even ones that don’t know your real name. I feel truly at ease for the first time since I arrived at the ranch.
That feeling lasts through two more fights. Then Hunter walks to the ring.
Chapter Twenty-One