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“No.” I snatched the other cookie out of his hand. “I hope you came over prepared to discuss strategy. We need to hammer out Mia’s training routine tonight. I’m going to ask her to take the week off from the bar—”
“I’m not taking the week off, Fox.”
I rolled my eyes. “Christ, stop eavesdropping and finish playing Miss Manners, will you?”
“I see domestic harmony reigns here as always.” Slater grinned and flicked crumbs off his fingers. The bastard had sucked down that cookie like a vacuum. “Who’s she playing Miss Manners for?”
“My mother,” I mouthed, and his eyes went wide.
“No shit.” Slater craned his neck to try to see down the hall into the mouth of hell—also known as where my mother would be bedding down for the next who knows how long. “She’s here?”
“Yeah. She’s sort of moving in temporarily.”
He glanced back at me and lowered his voice. “Does that mean…she and your dad…?”
“I don’t know what it means.” That was God’s truth. “All I know is that I’m sleeping in a bag tonight and I’m not in the mood for your cheerful shit. So let’s get down to it, okay?”
“Don’t worry, I came prepared.” He dumped out the sack on the cushion between us and grinned as if he’d laid a fortune at my feet. His fortune just happened to be old school cassette tapes, protein bars, bottled smoothies and fight DVDs. “We’ll eat, then figure out how to attack th
is.” He held up a DVD. “Found some footage of your Brit. She’s good.”
“She’s not me.”
I glanced over at Mia, who was standing between the living room and kitchen with her arms crossed. “No, she’s not, but she can still beat you unless we work you hard.”
“So work me then. Standing right here.”
“Hot,” Slater declared, and I kicked his leg, making him laugh.
“We’ll eat dinner first,” I said as my mother appeared behind Mia. “Then we’ll strategize for tomorrow.”
“Why wait for tomorrow? The Cage is twenty-four hours. Let’s go there tonight.”
“You have an early appointment tomorrow,” I reminded her, not wanting to mention her therapist’s name out loud. Not that Slater wouldn’t be cool about it, but I could only imagine my mother’s reaction to Mia needing counseling. Ridiculous, really, because she did as well, and I probably did too if I was being honest.
Not tonight.
She averted her gaze. “I moved it to next week. Figured we had enough on our plates this week, and Carly’s starting school Monday…”
I got up and walked around the sofa, well aware of the eyes focused on us. But it didn’t stop me from tipping up her face and making her gaze meet mine. “We can make the time.”
Something flickered through her expression. A question. She was wondering if that meant I’d go too. I didn’t have an answer.
“Next week.” She smiled and stepped away. “So who’s ready for dinner?”
I watched her walk into the kitchen and start unwrapping everything Carly and I had so carefully put together. Her shoulders were lifted, her spine straight. She was back to the Mia who’d challenged me to a fight last winter. The girl I loved with all my heart.
I just couldn’t tell if that was a step forward or back.
15
Mia
“Have a seat, Mia.”
I sat and cast a nervous glance at Tray, who took the seat beside me in front of Elliott Knox’s glass and chrome desk. The office was austere and remote, much like the man himself.
To prepare myself for this meeting, I’d showered off the sweat from three hours of training that morning and swapped my bike shorts and tank for a simple black skirt and black top. It was the same outfit I’d worn to my father’s funeral. This was also the only skirt I owned.
