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Honestly, I knew so much about him that it was ridiculous. From my years of study, of keeping tabs on his career, keeping tabs on him. I knew he was six-foot-three, and in his prime fighting days, he weighed in around two forty-five, tiptoeing him into the heavyweight class that he dominated for years. He’d lost weight since he retired, not that it lessened his impact.
I knew what it was like to watch him fight because I’d watched every one.
Every one.
I knew that his name was scrawled into the pages of fifteen-year-old Isabel’s diary because when he had his first fight, I was utterly convinced I’d meet and marry him someday. For years, every fumbling boy who tried to flirt with me, ask me out, anything with me, was held up to the standard of him in my mind. With the stench of my spilled coffee hanging around us, I swear, I could’ve died from the mortification.
I knew his eyes were dark green, and his mouth rarely ever curved up into a smile.
I knew he’d retired a couple of years ago, after the death of his wife, in order to care for his daughter.
Having him stand in front of me was like having someone hand you the single thing you used to want, used to crave, and now you just had to pray that it was as good in real life as you’d imagined it would be.
If he was anything like what I’d built up in my mind, I was absolutely fucked.
Amy cleared her throat, and it broke the connection between his gaze and mine.
“Iz, you might as well be the first to know,” Amy said.
He took a step toward me, mouth flat but not mean, eyes dark and curious, and when he held out his massive hand, I took a step of my own. Unfortunately, I inhaled shakily before slipping my palm against his. The reason this was unfortunate was because it was loud and impossible for him not to hear.
When our hands touched, his brow lowered, and his gaze held on that single connection point. Slowly, I pulled my hand back, hoping he didn’t feel the tremor in my fingers.
“Aiden Hennessy,” he said.
Like I didn’t know his name.
When he opened his mouth again, I almost slapped my hand over those lips because I didn’t want him to say it. But my hand stayed at my side, and he spoke the words anyway, all low and dark, and I felt a shiver of foreboding at how my life was about to change.
“I’m the new owner.”
It took a few seconds to find my voice, and when I did, it was softer than I would’ve liked.
“N-nice to meet you.” Gawd, I could’ve slapped myself for that one single hiccup on the first word. But, honestly, it was hard to speak over the roaring in my ears. Quite easily, I could count on one hand the times I’d met an athlete that gave me butterflies—butterflies!
Aiden Hennessy, my new boss, who I’d see every single day unless he fired me for being completely incompetent, didn’t just set them off in my belly. From my head to my toes and every inch between was coated in flittering, fluttering, vividly colored, beating wings.
I wanted to douse them in gasoline and light all those little fuckers on fire.
Amy was giving me a weird look because soft-spoken and me did not go together. Ever.
He studied my face for a second, then nodded. “Amy tells me you’ve worked here a while?”
Amy laughed, laying a hand on my arm before I could formulate an answer. “Isabel walked through these doors when she was, what, thirteen? Fourteen? I may not have hired her until she was eighteen, but since the day I laid eyes on that scrappy little girl with a killer right hook, I haven’t been able to shake her.”
My cheeks felt hot again as he appraised me. I gave Amy a slight smile. “She tried, too.”
“Please. I would’ve been crazy to get rid of you,” she said. “She’s the reason we’re doing as well as we are, and don’t let her tell you a word differently. The clients love her, and so do the employees. We all do.”
“Yet you’re leaving,” I heard myself say. My mouth snapped shut because it wasn’t exactly the kind of thing one should say in front of the new owner.
Amy’s eyes watered, and to my abject horror, I felt mine do the same. “You knew this was coming, Iz.”
Slowly, I nodded. “I know.”
When she dropped her chin to her chest, her long, black braids fell over her shoulder, and I heard the quietest of sniffs. The big hulking man watched us carefully, without a lick of judgment in his expression at the display of emotion.
“I’ll give you two a minute,” he said, voice a low grumble that I felt in my bones.
