Got A Hold On You (Ringside Romance) (8 page)

Good. Jack wanted her angry and off balance. This
repressed, prudish executive would be very easy to keep off balance.

When Frank huffed past him, Jack shot Sully one last
smile. “Oh, and Sully? When you do get Tiger Lady back here, tell her I’ll be
the one to train her and teach her the moves.”

Sully’s face paled, and Jack knew he’d hit the mark.
Which mark, exactly, he wasn’t sure, but the promoter was sweating about
something. That’s how Jack liked it. Make Sully sweat and suffer, just like he
was trying to make Jack suffer.

Jack shut the office door and glanced down the hall.
The niece was halfway to Catalina Island.

“Hold on there, Frank. You don’t want to get lost.” He
caught up to her, a dull throb pummeling the inside of his skull. Damn
concussion.

“You weren’t supposed to come back today,” she said,
taking short, determined steps.

“Yeah, well, I can’t do hospitals.”

She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling. “That wouldn’t
have anything to do with needles, would it?”

The she-devil was taunting him? Perhaps, and she was
also heading straight for the men’s locker room. Jack followed along.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He eyed
the locker room door. Nick the Nefarious had ripped off the sign last month in
a fit of rage, a typical emotion when dealing with a promoter like Sully.

“I suppose you don’t remember passing out last night
because of an itsy bitsy needle?”

She was having fun. He was going to have more fun in
about ten seconds.

“I can’t believe a big man like you would be scared of
a little thing like that.”

“You weren’t the one being stabbed by that ‘little
thing.’ ”

“Maybe not, but when my allergies acted up as a child
I had no choice but to give myself a shot in the arm…with a
needle
,” she said, as if trying to make
him pass out by saying the word.

“You’re a brave girl, Frank.”

He pushed open the door and she stepped into the
locker room. Upon seeing a handful of men in various states of undress,
ferocious Frank turned tail and slammed face first into Jack’s chest.

“Hey, nothing to be squeamish about. Not for a strong,
tough cookie who can jab a needle in her arm without blinking an eye.”

Her fingers opened and closed twice. He had a feeling
he was going to feel that sucker punch before the day was out.

“Jack! What’s up?” Maynard said, walking toward him.

Jack reached around Frank and gave Maynard a high
five.

“You okay, man?” Maynard asked.

“A little punch drunk, but I’ll survive.”

“Who’s the broad?”

Jack placed his hands on Frankie’s shoulders and
turned her around. “I’d like to introduce everyone to Sully’s niece, Frankie
McGee.”

“Frankie? Isn’t that a guy’s name?” one of the other
guys asked.

“I call her Frank for short. Helps her fit in, right
kid?”

She pumped her fist again.

“Why’d you bring her in here?” Maynard said.

The small group circled her, the usual guys at this
time of day: Luther Rawlings, a six-foot-eight-inch African American wrestler;
Teddy, also known as the four-hundred-pound Bald Basher; and Marco, the
hard-core king who had more tattoos than David Beckham.

“Coming in here was her idea,” Jack said. “She wants
to get to know the talent, right, Frank? A chip off the old uncle.”

“Did you say she’s Sullivan’s niece?” Teddy said,
snapping the waistband of his shorts.

“I am,” she said with a lift of her chin.

Jack had to give her credit. She wasn’t trying to run.
Not yet, anyway.

“Then we need to talk. I’ve got a problem with clause
B6 in my contract.” Teddy got in her face, his blood-shot eyes gleaming, his
jaw working a piece of watermelon-flavored bubble gum, his favorite. The
Franken Niece probably thought he jawed on a piece of worn leather.

She glanced over her shoulder at Jack and her helpless
eyes tugged at his heart. Damn. He had to get out of here before he forgot she
was the enemy.

“Well, I’ll leave you with the boys to get better
acquainted.” He slipped out and waited for her to run screaming from the room.

He’d give her five, maybe ten seconds. With her
mightier-than-thou attitude, the boys would rip her to pieces, verbally anyway,
in a matter of minutes. If she thought she was smarter than all of them she had
another thing coming. Two of the guys were college grads, and Marco owned a
chain of successful restaurants. It always amazed Jack how people assumed that
because professional wrestlers had hard bodies, they had mush for brains.

Luther’s hearty laugh boomed from the other side of
the door. They were having a great time at her expense. Teddy probably had her
over his shoulder by now, demonstrating the Basher Smasher. He loved showing
off.

Jack leaned against the dirty white wall and
remembered the last time Marco brought his niece for a visit. Teddy picked up
the little girl with one hand and spun her around. The kid screamed with
delight, blond hair flying every which way.

An ache settled low in his gut. Remembering the playful
exchange reminded him how much he’d missed: a family and a loving home. His
failed marriage proved he couldn’t have either as long as he stayed in this
business. But wrestling wasn’t solely to blame for his marital disaster. He’d
wanted a normal life so bad he’d worn blinders when Sandra waltzed into his
life. Never again.

One thing for sure, he wasn’t going to end up like his
father, blaming everyone around him because he hated his life. Jack had
entrenched himself in this insane business without help from anyone. It was
high time to jump ship, before he lost any chance of a normal, healthy, and
happy life. Before he ended up like his dad—angry, bitter, and dead
before his time.

“Dammit,” he muttered, surprised by the sudden
self-analysis. Must be the blow to the head. He touched the goose egg above his
eye. Time to put bad decisions behind him and refuse to be manipulated.
Actually it was time he did a little manipulating of his own, starting with the
terrible Tiger Lady. He was sure he could finesse the wacky female from last
night. He wasn’t so sure about a professional actress. No, the inexperienced
Tatianna would be the perfect pawn to carry out his plan.

The door to the locker room swung open.

“Never would have guessed you’re related to that slave
driver Sullivan,” Luther said. “No offense, ma’am.”

“None taken, Mr. Rawlings. My uncle’s been in this
business a long time and has some rather old-fashioned views about how to run
things. I hope to change that, bring wrestling into the mainstream.”

Luther’s eyes gleamed with admiration. She really had
him under her spell.

“I’ll look into the contract issues, Mr. Rawlings. It
was nice to meet you.” They shook hands, her small, pale fingers dwarfed in the
giant’s burly paw.

She shot Jack a smug look and proceeded down the hall.
Jack glanced at Luther.

“Nice lady,” Luther said. “Smart, too, not like
Sully.”

“You’re still getting paid, Mr. Hudson, even if you’re
not in the ring,” she called over her shoulder as if ordering him to follow her
like a puppy dog.

He ground his teeth. He’d like to get her in the ring
for five minutes. A good, old-fashioned submission hold would clear that
arrogant tone from her voice.

“Have fun, Jack.” Luther slapped him on the shoulder
and laughed, obviously reading Jack’s mind.

“Yeah, right,” Jack muttered. He started after her,
afraid of what she’d do next. He didn’t like surprises, not one bit. Catching
up to her he studied her face, set in stone, like well-carved marble.

“Let’s get one thing clear, Mr. Hudson.” She stopped
and squared off at him.

He still had a hard time taking her seriously when she
barely came up to his chest.

“I don’t like surprises,” she said. “You pull any more
on me and I swear—”

“Hey, lady, you’re the one who walked into the locker
room. I thought you wanted, you know, to sample some biceps for yourself. ” He
grinned.

 
“In case
you haven’t noticed, Mr. Hudson, brawn doesn’t impress me, nor does it
intimidate me.”

Oh, he’d noticed all right. He also noticed that
whenever he got within six inches of her, her face flushed three shades of
pink.

Time for a little
non-intimidation
.
He planted his hands on the wall at either side of her head.

“I’m not here to intimidate you, Frank. On the
contrary, I want to live up to my role of tour guide. It’s the least I can do for
you and that generous uncle of yours.”

Her eyes changed color from light blue-green to cobalt
in a flash. He glanced down to see whether she was making that tight fist
again, but she’d shoved her hands behind her back.

His gaze drifted to her peach-colored lips, the lower
lip a little fuller than the top, giving her a natural pout that most women
would kill for. For an uptight drill sergeant she had incredible lips, lips
that looked like they needed to be kissed something bad. Hell, where did that
come from?

“Since you’re being so accommodating, Mr. Hudson,
please take me to the press office. We need to schedule your appearances for
next week. ”

“Not next week, babe. I get a week off, remember?” He
tapped gently at his head injury.

“That was my uncle’s deal, not mine. I’ve got big
plans for you, Mr. Hudson, very big plans.”

The next day at WHAK headquarters, Frankie and Uncle
Joe brainstormed angles, ticket sales, and strategy for handling Black Jack
Hudson.

“I don’t know what else to do. A deal’s a deal.” Uncle
Joe dropped a bag containing the infamous leopard-skin bikini in her lap.

“And since when did you worry about keeping your
word?” Guilt snagged her conscience. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I take it you’ve talked to some of the guys.” He
settled behind his desk in his cracked, maroon leather chair.

“A few.”

Leaning back, he tapped a pencil eraser on the tip of
his chin. “Business can get messy. Sometimes I have to make unpopular
decisions.”

“I’m not here to judge you. Just dig you out of
trouble and be on my way. But that doesn’t include parading around like a
fanatical feline.”

“Just like your mom. Always worried about
appearances.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Never mind. I’m sorry, but it’s the only way. You’ll
have to work with Black Jack.”

“For a year?”

“The story line won’t last that long. Even if you go
back to your real life and fancy job, you can always make guest appearances for
the television specials.”

“Uncle Joe!”

“I would find someone else, but I think Jack’s got
something up his sleeve. You’re the smartest woman I know, princess. If anyone
can play hard ball with Jack and figure out what he’s up to, it’s you.” He
leaned forward and massaged his temples with his fingertips.

This wasn’t a ploy or an act, or anything scripted.
Uncle Joe looked tired, dead tired. His eyelids drooped and his skin was paler
than usual.

“The mask stays on,” she said.

“Of course.”

“Maxine designs a new costume to cover up more of me.”

“Fair enough.”

“What about the books?”

“You got them in pretty good shape. I’d like you to
keep consulting with Bert in accounting, if you have time. But your priority
has to be working with Jack. This is it, Frankie. My last chance to save this
company.”

The desperation in his voice touched her heart. She
leaned across his desk. “Why is this so important to you?”

He reached for her hand. This time she gave it
willingly.

“They said I’d never amount to much,” he started. “And
maybe they’re right. But I can’t give up. Not yet. I have to prove—”

The door burst open.

“You can’t go in there!” Cecilia the secretary
shouted.

Uncle Joe snatched his hands from Frankie’s and stood,
righting his polyester suit jacket. She glanced over her shoulder and her
breath caught at the sight of Jack, naked from the waist up, his body
glistening with sweat. He wore nothing but skin-tight spandex shorts, athletic
shoes, and workout gloves with the tips cut off. Strands of wet hair had come
loose from his ponytail and clung to his shoulders.

“Jack, what can we do for you?” Uncle Joe asked, his
voice as slick as a salesman’s.

He planted his hands on his hips, defining his
well-muscled chest. “Where the hell is she?”

“She, who?”

“Don’t play games, Sully. I finished my workout twenty
minutes ago. Tiger Lady was supposed to meet me in the ring to go over some
moves.”

“Well, um, we’ve run into a problem.” Uncle Joe ambled
toward him.

Frankie couldn’t move if her life depended on it.
Between her uncle’s uncharacteristic and sincere confession a second ago, and
Jack’s magnificent body, her bearings were shot to hell.

“I’ve got a little over a week to train her. I’m going
back in the ring in ten days, not twenty-one. I need to work off some of this
steam I seem to have built up.” He eyed Frankie.

She dug her nails into the arms of the chair. Giving
him a tight promotional schedule next week was her way of letting him know who
was in charge. Instead he’d chosen to jump into the ring sooner than he should.

She thought he would enjoy meeting with fans, signing
autographs and playing hero. Instead he wanted back into the action with
Tatianna by his side. Could she find a replacement in a week? How about thirty
seconds? Because this man looked like he fully expected Tatianna to walk
through that door.

“Jack, calm down. We’ve had some problems,” Uncle Joe
reiterated, placing his hand on Jack’s bare shoulder. Jack glared at Uncle
Joe’s fingers and he snatched his hand back. With an irritated breath, Jack
paced to the window overlooking the arena.