Bad Professor (An Alpha Male Bad Boy Romance) (118 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Fenton

I
made it all the way down to the lobby before realizing I had left my phone in
the suite. Kev was talking the entire time about a woman named Sandi. He barely
stopped when I told him we had to go back up. He was ecstatic.

"I don't
think I know this Kev," I said.

"Doesn't
matter, Sandi does," Kev beamed.

"I like her
already," I said. The elevator opened and I saw the suite door was cracked
open.

"Wait, what
if we can hear some girl talk?" Kev asked. He put his finger to his lips
and crept towards the door.

I swallowed the
chuckle in my throat. I did not want to give away Kev's game. Then, I heard
Kya's voice. She was talking about Jackson McRay.

"…this
professional golfer, Jackson McRay. He's everything I'm supposed to want – good
family, well-educated, cultured, practical, and always thinking about long-term
goals."

"Doesn't hurt
that he's handsome and rich," Sandi said. "I saw his tabloid cover.
Hard not for him to catch any woman's eye."

"That's
exactly it," Kya said. "Jackson McRay is a catch. He's the man I'm
supposed to choose."

"I don't need
my phone," I told Kev.

He immediately
left the suite door and followed me to the elevator. "She said 'supposed
to,' and we both know people only occasionally do what they are 'supposed
to.'"

"Except Kya
Allen," I said. "She lives for 'supposed to.'"

Kev shook his head
and followed me into the elevator. "You broke her out of that. We should
have listened more."

I chucked him on
the shoulder. "You just wanted to hear Sandi talk."

"Yeah, I've
got it bad and it never felt so good," Kev said. He rubbed his shoulder
and smiled.

The doors opened
on the lobby and the group of guys standing there punched each other in
excitement. "You're that fighter, you're Morris. Man, you are a bad ass.
We're trying to do Vegas your way!"

"My
way?"

"Strippers,
fights, man, you just do what you want. You're my hero," another man said.
"We started a bar fight last night in your honor."

"Don't be
stupid," I said. "What's the word? Naive. It’s all an act. Whatever
crap you did last night is on you."

"Whoa,
what?" the first man asked. "You're saying it’s all an act? I thought
the MMA was different from wrestling."

"Same dumb
fans," I said.

Kev shoved me
through the group and across the lobby. "Have you lost your mind?"

"I didn't say
anything crazy. I told them the truth," I said.

"Alienating
your fan base the night before the title fight is no way to do business,"
Kev said.

"Neither is
lying about who I am and making people believe I am somebody totally
different," I said.

"Last time I
checked, you had a short temper, loved to fight, and had an insatiable appetite
for tequila and women. Oh, what a terrible double life you have been forced to
live!" Kev said.

"So that's
all I'm supposed to be?"

Kev wrapped an arm
around my neck. "Now, I'm not saying that. I get that you want to be your
best self. Hell, I'm trying to do the same thing. But I'm not going to be my
best self if I throw away my entire network. People know me one way and it’s
going to take time for them to realize I'm more."

"Sandi's doing
that to you? Making you want to be your best self?" I asked.

"Yes. And
admit it or not, Kya is doing that for you. So what if she thinks she's
supposed to choose the Polo shirt wearing golfer. All you have to do is make
sure it’s you she wants. Correct me if I'm wrong, but the whole opposites
attract has been working for you two so far, so why destroy your image
now?" Kev asked.

"What's so
important about my image?" I asked. "It’s your job to manage that.
I'm not playing it up for the cameras anymore. My job is the fight and that's
the one thing I'm going to do."

"Fine, fine.
If you want to take a backseat to handling your publicity, then you should have
invited Sienna to the party tonight. You could have been on autopilot the
entire time and she would have hyped you to the cameras all night."

"Yeah, but
that's not real," I said. "I thought the new you would be into a
marketing campaign of authenticity."

"The new me,
yes. But I'm stuck as the old me until the title fight because it’s the old me
that has promoted the hell out of the old you. See what I'm saying?" Kev
asked.

"Yes, fine.
No big changes until I've won the title," I agreed.

"Yes, thank
you! Man, Sienna's producer was just talking about the same thing this morning.
He was all mad because she wanted to try to change her image, go in a new
direction."

I sat down at the
bar. I had to laugh when the bartender automatically delivered a tequila shot.
"What new image is she trying out?"

"She's gone
to hit on the golfers from the tournament," Kev said. "Told her
producer she looked great in pastels and sunshine. She's going to try out the
whole country club scene. Maybe Kya inspired her."

"Oh, God,
please don't say it."

"What?"
Kev asked. "That Sienna has set her sights on Jackson McRay? What can I
say, the man is like a living breathing Ken doll and everyone wants to play
house with him. Or doctor. I don't know. Even Sandi says he's handsome. You
heard her."

"I am sick of
hearing about Jackson McRay. There's something off about him. Nothing a good
punch to the jaw wouldn't cure," I said. I slammed the shot and stood up.

Kev jumped off his
bar stool. "Whoa, wait, what's happening? That's just good old fashioned
jealousy talking. And everyone knows that jealousy is the number one way to get
into trouble. Didn't you just say you wanted to clean up your act?"

"And, you
told me not to," I said. "So, how about I go have a conversation with
Mr. McRay? Where's the golf luncheon?"

"I have no
idea," Kev said. He looked over my shoulder.

"Liar. Get a
cab. We're going."

Kev fidgeted the
entire cab ride to the Wynn Hotel and Casino. When we got out, he tried his
best to distract me.

"I hear they
have a helluva pool here. How about some drinks and good scenery?"

"No."

"There's a
shop here that makes custom cologne. Eau d' Marital Arts Fighter? Might be a
good thing to try. Maybe you want a product line."

"No."

Kev jumped in
front of me and held up his hands. "They're never going to let us in. I
know I said I wanted you to keep up the bad boy image, but another run-in with
security is not the way to go."

I marched up to
the first photographer I saw. "You know who I am?"

"The fighter,
Fenton Morris," he said.

"I need to
have a little talk with Jackson McRay. Want to make that happen?" I asked.

"Yes,
sir," the photographer said. He ran over and had a quick talk with the
doorman, money was exchanged, and we were in.

We entered the
banquet room. It was hard to tell what people stared at more – my tattoos or my
jeans. I was clearly not luncheon material.

"What's wrong
with this picture?" Kev asked.

"You mean
besides a bunch of men in pastel shirts and plaid pants?"

"Yes, besides
that." Kev turned all the way around and searched the room.
"Shouldn't we be hearing a high-pitched giggle and seeing a blinding flash
of camera lights?"

"So Sienna's
producer talked her out of it," I said. "I still want to talk to
Jackson."

"No, Sienna's
producer is right there," Kev pointed.

"With her
entire camera crew," I said. We marched across the room. A few golfers
pulled their wives out of our way and made nervous glances towards security.

"The cameras
aren't rolling? Has the world ended?" I asked Sienna's producer.

He shrugged his
shoulders. "Jackson McRay wanted to discuss their appearance before we
started shooting."

"And, you
didn't go with?" Kev asked.

Again the producer
shrugged and glanced at the manager's office door. "He wanted to talk to
Sienna alone."

"You sure
they're just talking?" Kev asked.

"It’s not my
job to babysit her. Sienna does what she wants."

At that moment, we
all heard a very clear "no!" Sienna said it again, but her voice was
muffled. The producer's eyes widened, but he did nothing. So, I kicked in the
door. Kev followed and shut the door behind us.

Jackson had Sienna
pushed against the mahogany desk of the banquet room's manager. She was pushing
against him, but he did not move. His hands gripped her thighs and held her
pinioned.

"What the
hell?" I asked.

"Of course,
you'd be the only one to invade our privacy," Jackson said. He did not let
go of Sienna.

"I said stop,
Jackson," she cried.

"Sure, play
it up for them," Jackson said. "As if you didn't want it bad. All
that flirting in front of the camera. Your whole show is built around you
tempting guys. It’s about time someone gave you what you're asking for."

"Stop!" Sienna
said. "I didn't want to come in here with you. I didn't want any of
this."

"You heard
the lady," I said. I stepped across the room to Jackson and held up my
fists.

He let her go and
laughed. "Come on, you of all people are going to play the hero? The
cameras aren't even on. Tell me you didn't do the same thing after she hung all
over you."

I shook my head.
"No, I didn't."

"Well, that's
the difference between us. You have to fight for everything you want. I was
raised differently. Everything is available to me. That's what really burns
you, isn't it? I can just take whatever I want," Jackson said.

"Then take
this," I said. I lunged towards him and threw a hard jab.

Kev grabbed me
just in time. My momentum carried us over to slam against the desk. Jackson
stepped aside and grabbed Sienna's arm.

"So heroic
for nothing. Come on, let's find somewhere more private," he said. "I
mean, you wouldn't want your little reality show to get slammed with a slander
lawsuit, would you? You might not understand much about business, but you
realize that's bad for your image, right?"

Sienna looked at
me, confused. She let Jackson start to pull her out the back door of the
office.

"What do you
think you're doing?" I asked Jackson.

"Taking what
she offered. There's no crime in that," Jackson said.

"She said
'no,' Jackson, and you're going to have to deal with that," I said.
"You can't force her."

"Force
her?" Jackson asked. "Like I forced her to come here and flirt with
me, getting all handsy on camera. Just like I forced your sister to wear next
to nothing. A woman who flaunts it wants it."

My fingers balled
into tight fists. "That's the difference between us. I don't have my head
so far up my ass that I don't understand the difference between casual flirting
and begging for sex."

"Women beg me
all the time. Your sister's outfit begged for it," Jackson said.

I lunged again and
this time Kev did not stop me. Jackson let go of Sienna and she fell hard
against a bookshelf. Hardcover books crashed to the floor as I slammed into Jackson.

He took one good
punch to the gut. I underestimated the soft appearance of his lime colored Polo
shirt. He was rock hard, but still lost his breath. Jackson came at me with a
clumsy swing, and I ducked.

It was on.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Kya

"
What
are you doing?"

It was not hard to
figure out where Fenton was. The luncheon was on hold while a crowd gathered
outside a small side office.

I pushed past
Sienna's camera crew and stood frozen in the doorway. Jackson had Fenton in a
headlock as Fenton pounded at his mid-section. Jackson's face was red with pain
and exertion, but he was not letting go. Neither man stopped when I cried out.

"Kev, do
something," I said. I ran into the room but did not know how to approach
the scuffling men.

"Like get
punched in the face? No thanks," Kev said.

"Can't you
stop them?" I asked Sienna.

She gave a pale
smile. "What I should do is get the cameras rolling."

"Of
course," I said. I jumped forward and grabbed Jackson's arm. He ignored my
nails digging into his forearm until I almost drew blood.

Fenton stopped
punching as soon as I drew near and held his hands out to the sides, palms
open. "I'm done. I'm done with him."

Jackson released
his neck and they shoved away from each other.

"What is
going on?" I asked the room at large.

"You've never
seen two guys fighting over a woman?" Sienna asked. She fluffed up her
bleach blonde hair and pinched color back into her cheeks.

Jackson gave
Sienna a smile, despite his shortness of breath. "Yeah, that's it. Sienna
and I were having a little private time away from the cameras and your mad dog
here busted in the door. Couldn't stand to see someone else with Sienna, I
guess."

"You had your
chance," Sienna told Fenton.

"Just
jealousy," Jackson said.

I turned to
Fenton, but all he said was, "Why are you here?"

"See,
jealousy," Jackson said. "She's here to finish up our business about
the power tool endorsement. He just can't stand another guy getting any
attention."

Fenton lunged at
Jackson again, but I stepped between them. "You were fighting over
Sienna?" I asked.

Fenton said
nothing, only clenched his jaw, so Jackson spoke up. "I hate to break it
to you, sweetheart, but Fenton here was yelling something about Sienna being
his woman."

"That's not
true," Kev said.

"Then, why
did you two come here to talk to me?" Jackson asked.

Kev looked at
Fenton and did not know what to say.

"Look, I hear
you, but I believe that women can choose for themselves," Jackson said.

Fenton stepped
around me, but Kev jumped in to help. "It's time to go, Fenton. It doesn't
matter. They've got their story and that's it."

"I don't
understand," I said, looking to Sienna.

She waved her
camera crew in. "I'm used to men fighting over me, next time, I'll leave
the door open, so we get it all," She vamped for the now-rolling cameras.
"Doesn't matter what happened, I always come out on top."

Kev caught my arm
and started to pull me and Fenton towards the back door. "Don't believe
her. She'll say anything to make herself look good. Same with your pretty boy
there."

I yanked my arm
free. "Then, tell me what happened."

"We came to
talk to Jackson about you, remind him to keep it strictly business. He had
Sienna cornered in the room and was trying to make her go farther than she
wanted," Kev said.

"But the door
was closed and no one saw anything?" I asked. "So it’s your story
versus theirs?" I grabbed both Fenton's arms and looked up into his face.
He avoided my gaze, but did not pull away. "Tell me what happened."

He shrugged my
hands off. "It doesn't matter. Let's get out of here."

"Fine,"
I said. "If it doesn't matter, then I'm going to stay and finish the
business I have with Jackson."

"You can't be
serious," Fenton said. "He's a slime ball, thinks he's untouchable.
Is that who you're supposed to be with?"

"I'm not with
Jackson McRay. It's just business." I crossed my arms over my chest.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but this whole situation feels a little
unbalanced, wouldn't you say?"

Fenton glowered at
me then turned back to Jackson. "I was just coming here to remind him it
was just business, make sure he didn't cross any lines."

"Sienna, are
you telling the truth? They were fighting over you?" I asked.

"Oooh, now
who's jealous," she said and smiled at the nearest camera. She raised her
right hand and pledged, "I swear they were fighting over me. Even Fenton's
manager can't say that's a lie."

I looked at Kev
who gave me a pained negative shake of his head. "Then, it sounds like
you're the one that crossed the line," I said to Fenton.

"So you
believe him? Of course, you do. It doesn't matter that underneath his perfect
look he's rotten. He's a dirty predator that thinks the whole world is his to
toy with and that includes Sienna and you. I'm warning you, Jackson, I've seen
what you really are," Fenton said.

The head of the
golf tournament elbowed his way into the office followed by five security
guards. "Alright, Mr. Morris, you have disrupted us enough for one
afternoon. Take them out."

"That seems a
bit unnecessary," I said.

Jackson shrugged.
"They weren't invited."

"No, they
weren't," said the tournament president. "They promised this
photographer a great scene if he bribed the doorman to let them in. It was all
just a publicity stunt."

Neither Fenton nor
Kev could deny what the man said. The photographer mouthed “sorry” to them just
before the security guards grappled them out the back door. One took Kev, while
the other four surrounded Fenton.

He glanced over
their shoulders and I felt the cut of his laser blue eyes. "You
coming?"

Jackson said,
"Don't worry, Kya, I won't let this little scene stand in the way of our
business."

"No, you're
right," I said. "I'm going to stay. I can't let your crazy publicity
stunts get in the way of my business anymore."

Fenton shook off
the four security guards and strode out the back door himself. I waited until
the office cleared. I took a few steps towards the back door, and then changed
my mind again. I followed Jackson out into the banquet hall.

"Normally,
I'm all for making a scene, but that was a bit much even for me," Sienna
said to her semi-circle of cameras.

Jackson joined her
and slid a comforting arm around her shoulders. Sienna shrunk back then
recovered and gave the cameras a bright smile.

"No wonder
you came looking for a higher class of athlete. We might not have crazy parties
in luxury suites, but we at least know how to treat a woman," Jackson
said.

Sienna shrugged
his arm off and rubbed her neck. "It seems like the only people that know
how I want to be treated are my friends and my fans."

"Speaking of
your friends, I was hoping your entourage would liven this place up,"
Jackson said. He stepped back into the shot and Sienna backed away.

"That wasn't
lively enough for you?" I asked.

Jackson dropped
the hand reaching for Sienna's waist and turned to me. "What can I say? I
like a little fun and excitement in my afternoons." He stepped aside to
talk to the head organizer of the golf luncheon.

"Are you
okay?" I asked Sienna. My back was to the cameras and I spoke as quietly
as possible.

"Why do you
ask?" Sienna tossed her hair.

"You're
usually so bouncy, but now, I don't know, you seem a little jumpy," I
said.

Sienna looked at
Jackson. He smiled, and she swallowed hard. "This just isn't my
crowd."

"What is
it?" I asked.

"Sorry,
Jackson, but I just heard there's a margarita-making contest at Caesar's that
needs a judge." Sienna motioned to her camera crew. "Come on, boys,
we're outta here."

Jackson took my
arm and led me to a long table set with a white linen tablecloth. The president
of the golf association and his wife sat across from us.

"And, people
wonder why we have such a rigorous screening and interview process for
membership at our club," the president said.

"I apologize,
sir, I thought a little on-air time would be good for us," Jackson said.

"Of course.
It had nothing to do with you," the president nodded. "It just goes
to show that people's true class, or lack thereof, will always show
through."

I sat wondering if
the entire incident had nothing or everything to do with Jackson McRay. There
was something stiff about his smile, but over the course of lunch, he relaxed.

"Please, let
me escort you back to the hotel," he said at the end of the gathering. He
signaled a driver and soon we were ensconced in a black town car. "I feel
like I need to apologize for my association president and the head organizer.
They are quick to judge. I'm sure Fenton is under a lot of pressure these
days."

"Thank you
for having some understanding," I said. I leaned back on the comfortable
leather seats. "You're right. I have seen athletes start to crack under
the pressure and their judgment is usually the first thing to go."

"As long as
it doesn’t blow back at you," Jackson said. He took my hand and kissed the
back of it. "I hate to think of you being surrounded by scummy managers
and boxing coaches and fighters. Wasn't this afternoon a pleasant change?"

I had to agree.
Despite the superior remarks about Fenton and Sienna, the luncheon had been
entirely pleasant. "Yes, thank you. It was just the break I needed."

Jackson held my
hand, a comforting and sweet gesture, all the way to the Tropicana. The driver
jumped out to open the door for me, but it was Jackson that rushed around to
help me out of the car. I could not help but feel like a princess when I was
with Jackson McRay. He was the very model of a charming prince.

"Ms. Allen, I
was hoping to see you here," a man's voice hailed us. Mario Peretti
appeared out of a limousine.

"Sorry. Ms.
Allen is not interested in speaking with you right now," Jackson said. He
curled a long arm out in front to shield me. His hand on the small of my back
ushered me towards the casino.

I stopped and
stood my ground. "It's okay, Jackson. I know him. What can I do for you,
Mr. Peretti?"

"So, formal
now. Let me guess, you spent the afternoon with his kind," Mario said. He
smirked at Jackson's outfit and then stepped between us.

Jackson laid a
heavy hand on Mario's shoulder. Though the MMA fighter was shorter, he made
quick work of shrugging off the hand and forcing Jackson to take a step back.

"What do you
want," I asked. I put both hands on my hips.

"Just a
photograph," Mario said. His smile curled up with mischief. "I'm a
fan, you're a fan, let's just get a quick pic together."

"Why? So you
can use it to rile Fenton up?" I asked. I started to walk towards the
hotel lobby.

"Exactly,"
Mario said.

Jackson laughed.
"I like it. Let's do it." He reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling
me back, and then giving me a push towards Mario.

"No, thank
you," I said. I looked to Jackson expecting him to shield me again and
help me get inside.

He held out an arm
to block me from the hotel lobby. "Give me the camera and give Ms. Allen
here a quick kiss," he said.

"Jackson! No.
Stay away from me, Mario," I said.

The fighter lunged
and wrapped an arm around my waist. "Sorry, Kya. Normally, I'm really
sweet, ask anyone. It's just this is a good way to get an edge of him."

I pressed hard
against his chest and tried to hold him back. Jackson laughed again and waited
until Mario stole a kiss, then he snapped the picture.