Fight or Fall (34 page)

“When you were little, your mother used to say, ‘She’s got your eyes Maxwell. Eyes that could see through your soul.’” His words came out unexpectedly, the admission confusing me. What was he trying to get at? He was a master of being cunning, an expert in the mental battlefield, and he could bluff his way out of any predicament. Maxwell Troudeau did not win eight world series of poker championship crowns without having an inherent ability to read people and calculate odds to his favor.

My face remained a blank platform. I’ve been schooled in the art of not showing my true emotions unless called for. My mother, the vibrant woman that she was, taught me that you show people what you want them to see. Being a supermodel, she’s learned a lot of tricks in her trade. When I was little, she’d take me to her photoshoots and everyone complimented her on how chameleon-like her face was. She could go from happy to pouty to sensual in an instant. I’ve internalized her lessons in life, “
not everyone is nice, show them who you want them to see, but save yourself for the real people in your life
.” Maybe that’s why even Milo couldn’t tell that I’ve lit a torch for him throughout the years. My parents had been offered numerous modeling contracts for me when I was younger, but my mom refused all of them. She wanted me to have a life free of the pressures she lived in. I wondered what she would say now if she actually knew that my father was the one who put all this pressure on me. Then again, if she wasn’t in the state that she was in now, our lives would be different.

“I can see you love him, Ava.” His face lining up in disdain, the dark-gray color of the suit he was wearing today matched the grim visage he was portraying. After his screaming fit, he was back in his element.

Now this is what I’ve been fearing.

“He’s a good friend,” I responded, my hands clutching the double top handles of my black/white Hobo purse. “We’ve been friends since we were kids.” He could never know how much I valued Milo.

“Ah, sure.” Swiveling in his chair, he said disbelievingly, “You would have me believe that you just disobeyed me in front of all those people because he’s a friend? Your mom’s right,
cherie
. I can see through your soul because you have my eyes. Mr. Tanner is not just a friend to you. He’s got all of you. He has your love
and
your loyalty. And from what I saw the other night, he obviously returns your feelings.”

My insides started to dissolve into a cold, prickling shiver as the glint of retribution brightened his dark, tanned face. “He is also my number one fighter. Well, one of the two, because next week it will be decided on who the number one fighter will be.”

“He’s a good friend,” I insisted, digging my heels into the plush cream carpet that he’d had installed straight from France. “We’ve been hanging out. That’s all.”

“Well then, this will be easier for you to tell him since he’s a ‘good’ friend.” His emphasis on the “good” was derisive, mocking, leaking with scorn. “Right now the odds are 55-45, in favor of Mr. Tanner. Obviously majority of the audience think he can win. I think he can too.”

He paused, his thumb twiddling around a pen. “I want you to change the odds, Ava. You see? When you had your little act of rebellion in front of everyone, I was able to see how much you meant to Tanner. If you asked him to throw the fight, I have no doubts he would do it for you. He would throw the whole thing for you.”

I stood up, not wanting to hear another word from his pompous mouth. If he thought I would ask Milo to do this, he was terribly wrong. Milo was an athlete, a competitor. It didn’t matter what sport he played, he poured his heart and soul into it. Asking him to give up a fight would be a slap to his already bruised and tattered ego, and damage the self-respect he was trying to gain. I would never ask my man to give up a fight for me. Ever.

“You do this or this is the last time you will see your mother,” he pronounced with a decisiveness I knew I had no way of swaying.

“Why are you doing this, father? You don’t need the money that this fight will bring in. You’ve already proven to your colleagues and the people you call your friends that you’re above all of them. What is there left for you to gain?” My father had enough billions to last him a lifetime or two. This wasn’t about money. At all.

“This is your punishment, Ava.” Walking to the window, his back faced me and he turned his head to the direction of the greenhouse where my mother was. “You’re willful like your mother, and look where it’s gotten her. This is for your future. I want to ensure that the legacy I leave behind will be according to my rules.” Gesturing with both of his hands in the air, he said “I built all of this from nothing. I don’t want to leave all of this to nothing if you ruled with your heart. You’re fickle. Very emotional. You’re ruled by your desires. In order to become like me, you have to choose what’s best for you. Unfortunately, you’ve chosen wrong. Mr. Tanner is not the guy I’d wish for you to be associated with. I chose him to be one of my fighters because he’s plagued by a scandal and he’s a pathetic excuse for a man who couldn’t stand to win by his own strength, so he had to plant drugs on his opponent so he could win. If you sway him to give up the fight, then I know that you still have the ability to follow my rules.”

“You don’t know him,” I defended, hanging my purse over my right shoulder. “You have no right to judge him.”

“Oh, but I do.” He sniveled, his features contemplative. “I know that he has no honor. If you ask him to throw the fight, I’m sure he will do so without hesitation.” Swinging his right hand, he signaled that he was ending this conversation. “You can tell him that instead of one and a half million that he’ll receive as a second prize, he’ll get two million instead. I’m feeling very generous. After all, he gave us a great show.”

He turned his head around to watch me and said, “Lose the championship,
cherie
. Or say goodbye to your mother.”

I stepped away from his desk. Before I reached the door, he added, “
Au revoir
. Try to be on your best behavior. See you next week.”

As I walked away from my father’s office, I looked at my surroundings. I grew up in this house. It was the biggest house in the neighborhood. My father didn’t build small, miniature buildings. Everything in his life had to be the biggest, the bestest – the biggest planes, the largest hotel chains, the grandest casinos, the imposing fight club – and now he wanted to take away the most important people in my life. I had to choose one or the other.

I know I can’t have both.

I saw it in his glaring, calculating eyes.

Either Milo lose the championship or I’d never catch glimpse of my mom again.

My faltering steps found their way into the greenhouse. In the arms of the woman who had brought me into this world, I spent my afternoon reliving my childhood memories with her, pouring all the tears and fears I have contained inside of me, savoring each moment, making everything last just a little longer.

Naomi left me and my mom alone and when it was time for my mom to go to sleep. I sang her French nursery rhymes that she used to sing when I was a little girl. Unlike my father, my mother embraced her American ways fully but when she married him, she also adapted the French ways, including learning everything about the language and culture. She became so fluent in French that whenever we went home to France, no one could detect that she was American with the way she spoke.

“
À bientôt maman
.” See you soon mom.

There comes a time in life when you have to choose who you value more. It’s not because you love the other person less. But when you are faced with a finality that’s forced upon you, you choose what feels right in your heart and maybe one day, your soul will give you pardon.

When I asked Ava what was bothering her lately, she’d just give me a sullen look and silently cried.

She’d come back really late on Tuesday night and went straight to bed. Ava didn’t go straight to bed. She spent her time talking or just chilling with me.

I’ve given her a reprieve over the past few days because it probably had something to do with her mom. She’s spent a lot of time watching me work out, preparing myself for the big fight. It was down to me and a Japanese fighter. I’d never seen him fight, but Ava had said that he was small. What he lacked in size, he made up for in speed and agility. If he made it this far, he must be really good. The men we’ve fought were not to be laughed at. They were great at what they did and each had capitalized on their own strengths. We might have all been disgraced athletes in one form or another, but we all knew what it was like to train and compete.

I don’t take it for granted that my skills alone did not make me a winner. If everyone competed with just skills, there would be hundreds of winners. It took mental toughness coupled with discipline to be a winner, both of which I applied to every aspect of my life. So when I see my woman suffering for whatever reason and whenever I asked her about it, she didn’t give me a straight answer, it took a lot of willpower not to go directly to the source, which was most likely her father.

Before Ava, I was fighting for the future of my foundation, in memory of the people I loved.

With Ava, I was still fighting for them, but now there was an added piece to it. In a way, I was also fighting for us. Her father had not said a word to me. It wasn’t unusual thing because Maxwell and I only spoke after the fights and at bare minimum, for the sake of appearances. But I wanted to prove to him, in front of everyone in that space he built for fighting, that I could win against anything, anyone thrown at me. Daniel, his assistant, has already been dangling an offer, a possibility for me to come back next year if I win this tournament. I had no desire to come back. This was it for me.

As soon as I secured the funds, I would be going back to the pool. Ava…she’s done that for me. She’s made me want to go back to the sport that I once shamed. She’s shown me the possibilities of second and third chances if need be. She’s never judged me. At the time when I thought no one believed in me, she’s managed to crack my chest open and take a good look inside and despite everything, she believed in me and loved me just the way I was.

Years ago, if you had asked me if I was going to fall in love with my sister’s gray-eyed best friend, I would have said “fuck no.” Not because I didn’t think she was worth falling in love with, it’s just that I never thought of the possibility between her and I. Everyone can say I love you and not mean it. Saying it wasn’t the big deal, but showing it was. My dad showed my mom every day he loved her by doing the little things for her – preparing breakfast for her, opening the doors, and giving her shoulder massages. I can’t pinpoint exactly when I fell in love with Ava. Maybe it’s been there throughout the years. We may not have had a candy cane filled past with each other, but I believed that when I wasn’t looking, she had planted tiny seeds of love in my heart and when the right time came, it blossomed into what she and I had now.

“Ava, are you okay?” I asked for the third time since we’ve been inside the gym. I was lying flat on the floor, using my abdominals to lift my shoulder blades as I completed my 400th crunch. I was changing up my routine today, doing it on the floor instead of hanging off the bars. Doing this made my core stronger, allowing me lift and rotate more effectively.

She was staring at me again, but her mind was miles and miles away, it was mirrored by the desolate look in her dull gray eyes.

I motioned for her to sit on top of my stomach as I continued to lie on the floor. Slowly she followed.

Her red cotton short shorts rode up and I appreciated the view on top of me – in her white tank top and a white sports bra underneath – no one can blame me if I had a 24 hour raging hard-on for my woman.

“What’s wrong?” I asked again, lightly massaging the smooth soft skin on her thighs. “Baby, tell me please.”

Last night we’d made love four times. I wasn’t complaining, but I felt that she was almost frantic with need and while she made no qualms about asking me what she wanted, it felt different – it was as if she was scared to let go of me.

Her expression grew somber, she tried to smile but the corners of her mouth didn’t lift long enough to give me a real smile, something was extremely wrong. “Ava, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me. Remember, we’re in this together.”

She took a long breath and said, “I have to ask you something.”

“Okay.”

She touched two of her fingers to my forehead, trailed them down my neck, and resting her whole right hand down my naked chest, she uttered, “I love you.”

I nodded my head, “I know.”

“I want to be with you.”

Gently gripping her wrist, I said, “You are with me. We’re together, baby.”

“What I’m going to ask you is about your fight tomorrow night.” Lowering her head so that her mouth was just an inch away from mine, her whole body flushed against me, she looked straight into my eyes, “Tomorrow night…”

“Yes? What about tomorrow?” I removed my right arm from where it had been resting under my neck and reached up to sift my fingers through her hair. “I know you’re scared for me.”