I hadn't even realized that real people held parties like this. There were people snorting coc**ne in the living room and there was no keg. I’d never been to a party with no keg. Instead, I had a glass tumbler filled with scotch that some yahoo had boasted was fifteen years old.
I was afraid to leave Grace alone for even a minute, not because I didn't think she could handle herself. Obviously she grew up in this and managed to come out unscathed, but because I was afraid for my own well-being. At least three women had propositioned me, in front of Grace no less. Like she wasn't even there. I was upset on her behalf, but she didn't say anything, and I didn't know what to do.
The party was in full swing when we arrived. I almost turned tail and fled when I stepped through the door. I’d rather face the current mixed martial art champion than the crowd inside this party. But these were Grace's friends from high school, and since she had no problem getting to know my friends, I shouldn't be sulking in the corner. I shouldn't—but I was.
“Come on, Grace,” Lana tugged on her hand. “I need you.”
Grace gave me a rueful half smile and allowed herself to be led off. I stood there with my fifteen-year-old scotch, wearing a pair of slacks and a white button-down shirt like I was a half-dressed businessman. Josh, who’d come in jeans and a t-shirt, had promised to get me a refill and be right back. That was five eternal minutes ago.
When I had been the poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks, I stood in the corner and I felt the same exact way right now. Like everyone was looking at me and seeing what a fraud I was. It made me want to come out swinging. Instead, I folded my arms and stood with my feet apart, glowering at everyone who came within two feet of me.
It didn't deter a five-foot-nothing chick who couldn't weigh even one hundred pounds. Her skinny legs looked like they were nothing but bones and skin. I wish girls would eat more these days. I loved Grace's curves. Her hips, her juicy ass, her rounded belly. Unfortunately, she thought she needed to lose weight. Her cousin, who had an eating disorder, lived with her, and it was a miracle when those two ate three solids a day. I felt like I was constantly encouraging one or both of them to eat.
The girl eying me reminded me of a praying mantis. Thin arms and thin legs stuck on a body. She smiled at me and the hint of sexual predation made me uncomfortable. I looked around for Grace to save me but she was nowhere to be seen.
"You're the fighter, right?" she asked. For a moment, I wanted to deny it, to tell her that I was security for the function even though there was none.
"Yeah," I gave her a short nod and hoped my brusque response would deter any more questions.
"I saw you fight."
This surprised me. "Really?"
"Yep, my boyfriend was a big fan. He was thrilled when they started showing them on national television instead of just through pay per view. But we watched your Thanksgiving fight. It was pretty awesome."
I knew that there was a contingent of MMA fans that were women, but most of them seemed more interested in sleeping with a fighter in hopes that we could drag them with us as we climbed to the top. This rich girl, however, wouldn't need someone like me. She'd have bankers, lawyers, and surgeons to choose from. I started to relax. "Thanks. It was a great opportunity for me."
"How long have you been fighting?"
"Only for a few years, although we had some mock matches when I was enlisted."
"A soldier?" she asked.
"No, Marine."
"That's right. I think I remembered that from the bio they ran on you before the fight." She was closer now, and I could smell her floral perfume. It wasn't as offensive as I first thought it was. I let my arms drop to my side and leaned against the wall a little.
"Most folks don't watch undercards." I had fought on the bottom of a three card match. My New Year's fight would be the second fight on the card. I was working my way up.
She gave a tiny shrug but even that movement caused the strap on her shoulder to slide over the side to dangle on her arm.
"What can I say? My ex-boyfriend was crazy like that." She gave me a small smile as if remembering her boyfriend was slightly painful. Another movement of her shoulder, and the strap slid lower. I stared at it, worried that it would drop lower still. Should I mention anything? Would Grace want to be told if her dress was slipping? I decided yes.
"Your dress." I gestured toward the strap that was now hanging loosely under her bicep.
"Um what?" She looked down and gave me a crooked smile. "Oops." Then she took her hand and it seemed like she pulled down the top of her dress. She wasn't wearing a bra and for a moment I saw a bare breast, the tip of a nipple before her hand covered it all and swept the errant strap back onto her shoulder. Was it an accident? I couldn't tell. Suddenly I was acutely aware of my surroundings. I was standing in a dark corner of a room of strangers. My girlfriend was elsewhere, and a girl I didn't know had bared her breast to me.
Panicked, I looked for Grace and then noticed Josh eyeing me from about five feet away.
“Josh.” I lifted my glass to him. If Bo was here, he’d have swept away the woman in a heartbeat, but even from this distance I could see Josh measuring me. He wasn’t weighing my worth based on what was in my pocket but how I was acting. I could tell that I wasn’t coming in on the high end of the scale. “Sorry,” I told the girl curtly. “I see someone I know.” I brushed by her, pretending not to notice that her hand reached out to stay my departure.
“Took you a minute. Thought we were going to get blood on that white shirt of yours.” Josh took a healthy swallow of his own drink but didn’t hand over the refill he’d retrieved for me.
“I don’t think Grace would like that.”
“Grace wouldn’t like a lot of things, including you enjoying a boob show from some twit who dissed her when they were juniors.”
I grimaced. “I was just making conversation. She mentioned that her boyfriend was a fan.”
“Doubtful.” Josh finally handed over the second glass, and I tucked the empty underneath it. “Come on.” Josh headed out the back toward a stone patio with heaters. Standing outside in the dead of winter without a coat on because there were enough heaters to keep us warm was some kind of luxury.
“You know, when Grace first started writing to you when she was fourteen, I thought it was cute. When she kept writing to you when she was sixteen, seventeen, and then eighteen, I figured it kept her away from the douchebags in school. But then you broke her heart.” Josh looked ready to swing at me, and I was prepared to take it. My actions toward Grace after four years of devoted letter writing while I was deployed deserved at least one good throat punch.
“You’re right,” I said.
“Damn straight I’m right. But here’s the thing. You came back and glued back the pieces, and I’m a happy camper so long as Grace is a happy camper. But if your attention is going to be distracted by every sweet piece that kisses up to you, then you should leave right now.”
“I’m not interested in anyone but Grace, and I never will be,” I said.
“What was that about in there?”
I looked back at the crowd. “That was me being unsure about how to act around here.” I dragged a hand through my hair. “I feel about as comfortable here as knife-wielding assailant surrounded by armed gunman. I was making conversation with the only person who seemed willing to talk to me.”
“You were in a dark corner. The only person willing to talk to you was someone who wanted to do something in the dark corner.”
“I get that now.”
“What if it had been Grace that had seen you and not me?” Josh challenged. “You gotta stop thinking about what all these people have that you don’t have, because the only person who cares about that shit is you. Grace is always going to have money, and someday you might have more than her, but maybe not. If you’re going to be measuring dick size based on the fat of your wallet, then you’re always going to come up short. Is that how you want Grace to feel? Like you’re measuring everyone’s value based upon their net worth?”
“No!” I exclaimed. “That’s not how I view Grace at all.”
“But that’s how you think Grace views you.”
“I…” I started to make excuses for myself, but that’s exactly how I’d been acting. I’d been feeling sorry for myself, thinking that Grace was going to leave me because I couldn’t afford everything I thought she wanted.
My mind flashed a picture of her kneeling on the floor, her hands on her legs just waiting for me. When I was deployed, Grace had sent me a copy of The Odyssey by Homer. Odysseus was a warrior who got separated from his wife Penelope for years and years. He was distracted by sirens and set upon by monsters, but he eventually found his way back.
When he arrived at his home, he found the place overrun by suitors begging for Penelope’s hand. But she’d refused them all, choosing to believe that her Odysseus would someday return. And he did.
Grace had waited for me, for years, and she was still waiting for me. She needed me to get my head out of my ass and stop whining like a little baby about everything she had that I didn’t. Over and over she’d told me that I was all she wanted and that I was enough.
“Thanks, man,” I squeezed Josh’s shoulder tightly in appreciation. “You know we’re going to be brothers-in-law, right?”
Josh snorted and downed the rest of his glass. “Figured. So you popped the question?”
“Should I have asked you first?” I didn’t want to make an enemy out of Josh.
“Nope. Just make her happy. So not throwing the fight?” He wasn’t looking at me when he dropped that bomb.
“Grace tells you everything?”
“Nope, this was all Lana. She wanted to know what we could do to help you out of the mess. Didn’t know you wanted help.”
“I won’t lie and say I wasn’t tempted,” I admitted. “But Grace deserves better than someone who lies and cheats their way to the top. I want to be able to look her in the eye every morning, and I wouldn’t have been able to do that if I took Billings up on the offer.”
“So what’s your plan of attack for Billings?”
“Report him.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I’ll make it public and hope that others will come forward.”
“And if they don’t?”
“Then I guess I’ll have to ask my wife to float me a loan for the extra tuition.” I grimaced and hoped to hell it wouldn’t come to that.
“It won’t,” Josh declared confidently.
“And you know this how?” I asked.
“Because Dr. Billings is a coward. You would know this if you weren’t so close to the situation. You come forward, and he’ll fold like a bad poker hand.”
I thought of all that I knew of Billings. His poser status as a former military man. His seedy advances toward Lana. His inability to hold on to enough money to buy into the opportunity of a lifetime.