Romance: Her Fighter (2 page)

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Authors: Penny Ward

BOOK: Romance: Her Fighter
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Chapter 2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In a way, meeting with my sister Kate was worse.

As soon as I walked inside, she demanded I tell her what was going on. Her green eyes grew somber as I told her about losing my job, but then they flashed dangerously when I told her about Michael breaking up with me.

“That jerk!” she snarled. “He couldn’t wait another week, or at least until tomorrow? You know, after your birthday?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, my shoulders sagging. I’d already cried once that evening. I had no desire to do it again at the moment.

Her face softened as she looked at me. “What are you going to do?”

It was the second time that question had been asked of me, and I still didn’t have a real good answer.

“I’m not sure,” I admitted.

She grinned. “Well, if worse comes to worse, know you always have a home with me and Dad.” She jerked her thumb in the direction where our Dad sat on a recliner, a beer in one hand and the television remote in the other. He stared at the screen as if it didn’t exist, like he was stuck in another world. For all I knew, he was.

“Umm, thanks, but no thanks.” She shrugged. She’d long ago gotten over my lack of concern where Dad was concerned.

“You could always move back in with Mom,” she whispered, careful to keep her voice low, lest our Dad hear her. I didn’t really think it mattered, but when the subject was Mom, one could never be too certain. “At least until you get yourself back on your feet, that is.”

That was something I hadn’t considered before.

After the divorce, Mom had moved as far away from LA as she could get, all the way across the US to New York.

While moving in with Mom was probably not the most ideal choice, it was better than nothing.

Maybe it was time for my life to change?

Kate grinned when I said, “I’ll give her a call.”

 

****

 

 

Less than a month later, I was on a plane out east, heading to New York City.

The New York City.

A place of adventure, excitement and danger.

The idea both excited and terrified me, as I’d never left LA before.

This would certainly be a new experience for me. Mom had agreed that the best course of action would be for me to come live with her until I got back on my feet.

“Besides,” she said to me with a laugh. “Half the time, it will be like you live alone anyway.”

When I had asked why, I discovered Mom was seeing a professional football coach and was traveling with him to his games, so she wasn’t even at her apartment.

She left directions with security that I was to be let into the apartment when I got there, and she left me a key inside. I didn’t know what made me more nervous: moving to a new state I’d only heard stories about or being alone inside someone else’s home.

When the plane landed, I gathered what little baggage I had with me and took a taxi to her apartment. I was led up to the room without an issue and allowed inside where a key and a note were waiting for me just inside the doorway.

“Dearest daughter,” I read aloud, feigning an English accent and pretending to hold a teacup as I spoke. “I apologize that I have missed you and hope you find everything to your liking.”

I glanced around and noticed how barren the place was.

That would have to change.

I thought I was bad at work for having too few personal items in my desk, but woof! Looking around the apartment, I realized I was overloaded with crap compared to Mom.

Did she even live here?

There were no pictures to speak of, and even the furniture was the minimum anyone may have.

No more than necessary.

“I am away on holiday, as you and I discussed over the phone, and I am unsure of when I’ll arrive back.” Reading the letter out loud did wonders for my homesickness, and I repressed the urge to giggle as I continued. “I’m sorry you had a lousy birthday. Please look in the fridge. Maybe you will find something to cheer you up. Happy birthday, darling, and welcome home.”

Setting the letter down on the corner of the table, I rounded an island in the middle of the kitchen and approached the fridge with caution. It was my Mom, and she had always been known for her tricks when Kate and I were children. Was that all this was? An elaborate trick?

Part of me thought it was.

The other was ready for some kind of normalcy in my life.

When I opened the fridge, I found a small cake with my name personalized on it and a note pasted to the top that said, “Happy Birthday, Claire!”

I smiled, pulled it out and ate a few bites of it before I stuck it back in the fridge.

A quick tour of Mom’s apartment showed me that she lived sparsely.

There were two bedrooms, one bathroom, the kitchen (which doubled as a small dining area), and the living room.

I used the restroom real quick before finishing my exploration.

Her room had a computer, which I promptly booted up in the hopes that it wasn’t password protected. Knowing my Mom, it wasn’t, but maybe her boyfriend—whoever he was—had helped her set it up, in which case, I was screwed.

I didn’t have a computer of my own even though I was an accountant and worked on a computer all the time at work. I’d never needed one before as I didn’t use social media except on my phone and I didn’t do a lot of anything else, including email, although I would use that to retrieve my resume and update it since I hadn’t needed to in over five years.

Maybe I’d be able to use hers to search for a job rather than trying to find the local library.

When the computer instantly went to a desktop screen, I couldn’t believe my luck.

“Yes!” I cried. “Finally, something’s going right.”

For the first hour I was in Mom’s apartment—my new home, I reminded myself—I searched online for accountant jobs and applied to several that looked promising.

Afterwards, I shut down the computer and scoured the kitchen for something edible before heading to bed.

I wasn’t surprised to find I was tired.

What surprised me was that I hadn’t fallen asleep earlier.

I was in a completely different time zone than I was used to, and jet lag hit me hard as soon as I laid down in the second bedroom I assumed was mine.

Later, I told myself as I drifted off to sleep, I’ll hang up my pictures and call Kate to let her know I’ve arrived in one piece.

I just need a nap first.

When I awoke, I blinked in surprise and wondered what time it was.

I grabbed my phone and cursed when I realized I hadn’t plugged it in. It was dead. What if one of the places I applied to tried to call me?

The fear that something like that had really occurred made me shoot out of bed like a ball out of a cannon and dig through my purse until I found my charger.

“It lives!” I cried, mocking an old horror film as I saw the red light that suggested my phone was charging. Then I went to the kitchen to eat something before booting up the computer once more.

I waited until after I ate and the phone had some semblance of a charge before I called Kate, knowing she would want the full details, what little there was to offer.

“Claire, is that you?” she asked as she answered the phone.

“Umm, yeah,” I replied.

“It’s o’dark o’clock in the morning. Call me in a couple hours,” she grumbled into the phone and hung up without a word.

I guess I needed to learn exactly what the time difference was and base my phone calls around such.

Oops.

The first couple of days in the apartment were just like that. I spent a lot more time sleeping than I was used to as I got used to the time difference, returning to my usual seven hours of sleep afterward.

My day consisted of researching different companies and their open positions before applying to them and submitting my resume.

After a week, I was beginning to get a little stir-crazy though. I needed to get out of the apartment.

Maybe I’d have some luck searching out on the streets.

It was a crazy idea, but it beat staring at a computer screen for hours on end. Besides, I’d had yet to explore the city, and I was dying to do just that.

I was in New York friggin’ City, after all.

What kind of person would I be if I didn’t go sightseeing?

With my mind made up, I dressed business casual and pulled on a pair of flats. No way was I going to walk around New York in heels when I didn’t know my way around. That was suicide in LA.

I wanted to look professional so that if I saw a job opportunity, I could make a great first impression.

I made sure my cell phone was fully charged (it was), stuck a pad of paper and a pen in my purse, along with a vanilla folder with a few copies of my resume (just in case) and set out, locking the apartment behind me.

The air was cool, and I was glad I had a light jacket on.

I didn’t know much about New York weather other than the fact that they got snow whereas LA didn’t ever seem to have any. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen snow, actually.

I looked around, trying to figure out where I wanted to start my self-tour.

“Lost?” someone behind me asked, and I turned around to find myself staring at a man with a smug grin on his face, as if he knew everything about me.

“Not yet,” I replied. I spun around once more, taking in everything around me. “Overwhelmed.”

“First time in the Big Apple?” I returned my gaze to him, drinking him in.

He was tall, broad and very good-looking. His skin was flawless and he had a sense of confidence radiating off him.

His arms crossed across his chest and muscles seemed to be built on muscles. He was very toned. That was clear.

His light brown hair was cropped close to his head on top, but completely shaved on the sides.

Dark eyes sparkled with arrogance.

Yum…

I could get to like New York a lot.

“That obvious, huh?” I asked with a wry grin.

He lowered his arms to his sides and stalked closer to me, his gait measured, as if he was half-expecting me to run from him.

As if.

“Your eyes are as round as English tea cups,” he teased, brushing my hair out of my eyes. “Yeah, it’s obvious.”

“And I bet you know this city like the back of your hand, huh?”

He grinned, and I felt the tug of attraction toward him.

He did certainly look delicious enough to eat.

Man, it had been a while since I’d found myself attracted to a new man.

Now that I felt it, I knew that Michael’s breaking up with me had been one of the best things of my life. There was no attraction between us, not even the stirrings of one.

It was more like we’d settled one another’s physical needs, and that was all. He just picked a sucky time to end the relationship.

“Close enough.”

“Hmmm,” I replied, not convinced. The verbal sparring was fun though. “So tell me, where should I turn to for a guide?”

His grin widened and he offered me his hand. “Look no further. My name is Ryan.”

Before I could answer, my phone rang, blaring out Katy Perry’s California Girls. Ryan laughed even as I cursed and fished my phone from my pocket.

“Dammit, Kate, I warned you about changing my ringtone!” My skin flushed, but in all actuality, I found the whole thing hilarious, especially considering how far away from California I now was.

“Hello?” I didn’t recognize the number, and I could only hope that it was one of the places I’d applied to calling me back. When the person, a young woman who explained her name was Jill, requested to speak to me, I said, “This is she.”

“Miss Williams, I was just reading over your resume and wondered when was the soonest time you might be able to come in for an interview.”

“Any time you like,” I replied, trying not to sound too desperate. I needed a job or I was going to go crazy.

“Can you come down today?” Jill asked.

“Give me an address, and I can head there now.” She rattled off an address and I repeated it back to her once to confirm it. “I’ll see you as soon as I get directions,” I told her.

“Good. See you soon, Miss Williams.” She hung up.

I shoved the phone back in my pocket, and spun around in a circle, happy that I had gotten a call back already. I froze when I saw Ryan still watching me with an amused expression in his eyes.

“Oh, hi again.”

His eyes danced. “Need to get somewhere?”

I brushed my hair back and smiled up at him. I know that I am a new girl in a big city, but something about this man made me feel safe.

“Actually, yeah. I have a job interview. Do you know how to get to Black Dragon Mixed Martial Arts Gym?”

He chuckled, as if I’d said something to amuse him, although I couldn’t figure out for the life of me what it was. “I was heading there myself when I came across you,” he said.

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