Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Chapter 8
THE after-party, as Farrah had called it, was more like a bad wedding reception to me. There were tables filled with fancy nibbles, a DJ playing overly-suggestive dance music, and the infamous open bar that seemed to be on everyone’s mind. My opinion had not changed concerning the intelligence of throwing a bunch of drunk fighters together in a room. I was convinced nothing good could come of it.
Kage texted me to say that he would meet me at the party, but that he’d been asked to meet with some people from the organization. It was business, so I couldn’t argue with that.
“I won’t be long,” he texted. “But you tell me if Santori comes back, and I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”
“I’ll be fine, Daddy,” I fired back, trying to disguise my unease.
“Don’t be mean.”
“I’m not. I’m being sexy.” I tacked on a winky face.
“In that case, call me Big Daddy.”
“Haha. You might have to refresh my memory on the BIG part. It’s been a while.”
“Oops. Gotta go.”
And then I was alone at the reception, and that open bar was looking mighty tempting. I made my way over to it and ordered a Jack and Coke, and then I wandered around trying to act less awkward than I felt. Nothing strange about being the only person in the room who wasn’t engaged in conversation or at least standing beside someone. Especially when the lights turned down low, and it started seeming like a real party.
After about fifteen minutes, Farrah saved me. She hopped up beside me and gave me the kind of smile that said she’d probably already paid a couple of visits to the bar.
“Hello Jamie Atwood, Assistant.”
I smiled, surprised she’d remembered my name. “Hello Farrah, Girlfriend of David.”
She liked that a lot. I could tell by the way she latched onto my arm and giggled. “So where is your boss-man?”
“He’s in a meeting of some kind. He’ll be out soon.”
“Oooh, a meeting. That’s interesting.”
“Where’s your boyfriend?” I glanced pointedly at her hand on my arm. “Probably about to beat my ass, right?”
“Oh, sorry. I get touchy-feely with everyone when I’ve been drinking.”
“It’s okay.” Of course I didn’t tell her that I was just as concerned about my boyfriend seeing it as I was hers.
Another girl wandered up, dressed and pierced similarly to Farrah. “There you are,” she slurred. “I was about to go looking for you in the parking lot.”
Farrah hung on her arm just like she had mine, confirming that she did indeed get touchy-feely when she’d been drinking. “I’m talking to Michael Kage’s assistant. He says Kage is in a meeting, so I’m assuming he’s in the same one with David. Maybe they’re going to fight each other.”
“You think?” I wondered if that would mean that Farrah and I couldn’t be friends anymore. I was disappointed at the thought, since Farrah was the first friend I’d made on my own in the UFC universe. Meeting her helped to ground me, even if she had no idea just how similar she and I were.
“Would you like to dance with me?” Farrah’s friend gazed hopefully at me with big blue eyes.
“I don’t think this is that kind of party,” I began, but one glance out over the crowd revealed that people had moved to the dance floor and started dancing. “Oh, I guess it is. But no, thanks. I’d better not.”
“Are you still on the clock?” Farrah poked out her bottom lip before taking a swig of whatever she was drinking.
“I’m always on the clock, girls. Michael Kage is very demanding, so I have to be ready to do whatever he wants at a moment’s notice.”
“So does that mean you don’t want to dance?” the friend asked.
“I’m afraid so. Besides, I’m not a great dancer.”
I checked my phone again for lack of anything better to do. The event had generated a substantial buzz, so I had to skim a lot of tweets that didn’t interest me. Someone had posted a picture of a red faced Riker storming off the stage. Kage appeared calm and calculating in the background as the other man visibly lost his composure.
Some asshole replied, “He’s got a point. Kage hasn’t fought anybody yet. #PayYourDues #TeamRiker,” which inspired the reply, “Riker is a pussy. I predict Kage will submit him in round 1. #TeamKage #RearNakedChoke.” When some girl chimed in with, “Kage is hot. #TeamKage #ManCrushMonday,” that was my cue to put my phone away.
“You’re following it now, huh?” Farrah asked, smiling as proudly as if she’d actually invented social media. “It’s addictive. Trust me, I’m on there all the time. I have to put my phone on airplane mode when the temptation gets too strong.”
The friend sighed and took a swallow of her drink. “You know a party is lame when stalking Twitter is more fun. I thought this would be like a celebrity thing, you know? I haven’t even seen the Octagon Girls. I should have gone to that frat party instead. ”