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The “jewel” was obviously cubic zirconia with a plastic band to match, and she should’ve been too ashamed to wear it in public.
She was still sexy as hell without even trying, still sarcastic as ever, and I couldn’t believe she was serious with another guy.
A guy who clearly didn’t deserve her.
“Mr. Carter?” the poker dealer asked, pulling me back into reality. “Mr. Carter?”
“Yes?”
“It’s your turn, sir.” He glanced at my hand.
I looked around the room in awe of how far I’d fallen. Months before my loss, I would be in a public high rollers room, winning round after round.
Now, I was sitting in my condo with a rented dealer, losing to inanimate objects.
“I’m folding,” I set down my cards. “Can you deal another round for me and my friends, please?”
He nodded, and as if this type of game was normal, he dealt cards to my “friends.” A pair of gloves, a pack of Ralph’s cigars, and anMMA Forevermagazine.
Ding dong!The doorbell sounded.Ding dong!
“It’s open,” I said. “You can come inside.”
Ralph stepped inside and rushed to my liquor cabinet, pouring himself a shot. He knocked it back and poured another.
“Thank you for asking,” I said. “I appreciate that.”
“At this point, you may want to consider retiring from fighting to fill out job applications.” He shook his head. “Your own whiskey company—the brandyouhelped to start—is currently having a meeting about whether they need to take your name off the bottles.”
“That might not be a terrible idea.” I picked up my new cards. “I’ve been meaning to change the packaging.”
“I’m being serious, Travis.”
“As am I.” I took one glance at the hand and folded. “If these companies want to drop my name and likeness from their brands, let them,” I said. “But once things turn around and they come crawling back like the snakes that they are, we’re slamming the door in their faces.”
“As inspirational as that sounds,Rocky—” He sat beside me. “You’re skipping one key component.”
“What’s that?”
“Likability,” he said. “You need to dig deep and channel the best qualities of the man you used to be so we can get back to that point.”
“Look.” I refused to go there. “I can’t turn back time and return to being The Humble Kid who lives paycheck to paycheck. You and I both know that the moment I started trash-talking and saying, ‘I’m too fucking good to lose,’ that my career changed for the better.”
“You could at least create a video for your fans. Tell them how sorry you are for letting them down with your recent behavior.”
“As long as I make it clear that I’m being forced.” I motioned for the dealer to start another round.
“You also need to pen a handwritten card and write a check to that fan you slapped.”
“For the umpteenth time—” I held back a sigh. “That fan slapped me first.”
“Well, he’s hired the best lawyer in Vegas and he’s threatening to sue you for ten million dollars.”
“Do you have an ‘I’m sorry’ card?”
“I thought so.” He pulled one from his breast pocket and handed me a pen.
“Write something from the heart, Travis.”
