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I raise an eyebrow, feeling the need to address the elephant in the room. “Then it should go without saying that we can’t do the things we did last month. Ever again.”
“We fucked, Carla. You can say it.”
“Whatever you want to call it, we can’t let that happen if I’m going to work for you. That was a one-time thing. And very uncharacteristic of me.”
“Don’t you want to ask me about how much I’m going to pay you?”
“For the sex?”
“For the job. Get your head out of the gutter, love.”
My cheeks flame. “Oh. Right. That’s what I thought you meant.”
“It’ll be fifteen an hour. That’s $300 a week. If you teach a class, you’ll get more, of course.”
Pro: It’s more than minimum wage and I’d start tomorrow.
Con: My boss knows what I look like naked.
But I just moved into an apartment and need an income. Against my better judgement, I nod and stand.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at three.”
Chapter Twelve
The Past
TJ
“Gentlemen, I give you the winner of tonight’s fight: TJ Cutler!”
I raise my arms overhead and the crowd roars.
I bend down to offer my opponent a hand, but he swats me away. “I don’t need your fucking help.”
“Aww, a sore loser? I haven’t met one of those in a while.”
He spits blood at my feet. “Fuck you. You don’t fight fair.”
“Fair?” A laugh rips from my chest. “Nothing’s fair in life. The sooner you learn that, the better off you’ll be.”
Bobby’s arm wraps around my shoulders. “Leave this piece of shit here. Take your money and celebrate.”
“What am I celebrating?” I take the wad of cash and stuff it into my pocket.
“Another win. That makes twenty in a row.” He pushes through the crowd as everyone empties out of the building. “Seems like just yesterday you were a string bean. Look at you now. Meetin’ me is the best thing that’s ever happened to your sorry ass.”
“I’d say you’re the lucky one with all the money I’ve made you this year.”
Bobby laughs and slaps me on the back. “Come on. I’ve got a birthday gift for you.”
I follow him around a desk by the front door. “What is this place anyway?”
“Supposed to be a gym. We’ll be movin’ on to another location for the next fight. Staten Island’s got tons of empty buildings.” He opens the door in the corner of the room.
I point to the name plate on the door. “Who’s Reggie?”
“Who gives a fuck?” He shoves me through the threshold.
