Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The response from the USADA only takes two days, thanks to Helena’s sharply worded demand letter.
The other life coaches have stepped up to help, too.
Callista has been juicing Danny’s socials for support, to put the pressure on the league.
Erika has been having quiet, closed-door talks with Belinda, although she doesn’t seem to be getting anywhere.
And even Jake has been helpful, guiding me through the murky world of performance-enhancers.
Jake and I leaf through the report in the conference room before our status meeting starts.
“I don’t get it,” I say. “This result shows everything is negative.”
Jake grabs it from my hands, scanning down the list with his pointer finger. “All the fun ones are negative. Check the back page.”
I follow to where Jake is tapping.
“Ostarine? Never heard of it.”
“It’s a selective androgen receptor modulator. Bodybuilders use it to keep weight on. Sorry, Lauren. Looks like your boy was juicing.”
I stare at the paper, the room growing uncomfortably humid around me. Like I’m pawing my way out of a steam room and only finding slippery walls.
“I don’t believe it. Danny wouldn’t cheat,” I say. “And he’s already too big. We’ve been killing ourselves trying to cut weight. Why would he take something to make himself bigger?”
“Maybe he wanted out of the fight.” Jake shrugs. “DeLuca is a fucking monster, and crazy well-financed. We’re talking hypoxic tents, cryogenic therapy, the works. I’d want out too.”
“No way. We were ready.” I take the paper from Jake, reading it again. “If it was a pleasure drug like ecstasy or Viagra, I’d totally believe he did it. But ostarine?”
“Wait a minute,” Jake says, frowning, looking over my shoulder. “They only found one nanogram in his system?”
“Any amount is forbidden.”
“Yeah, but you’d need thirty times that to have any performance-enhancing effect.
This looks like a trace result.” He grabs his phone and taps furiously with his thumbs.
Then he turns the phone around to show me an article from a website called MMA Junkie entitled “How Josh Barnett’s USADA arbitration could be a game-changer for UFC fighters. ”
“I’ll summarize it for you,” he says. “Josh Barnett popped positive for ostarine, but after a lengthy investigation, the USADA found him innocent. It turns out, protein powder companies sometimes use the same manufacturing equipment that deal with ostarine, leading to trace amounts of it in the product. It’s harmless, but that shit lights up like a Christmas tree during a drug test.”
I scan the article, then hand Jake back his phone with shaking hands. “You think his protein powder was tainted?”
Jake’s thick brows furrow. “Could be. But make no mistake, these arbitration hearings are dead serious. You better be sure how much you believe in this guy before going down that road.”
“Thanks, Jake.”
“Oh, I’m not helping you out of the goodness of my heart.” His eyes sparkle with dark mirth.
I sigh heavily. “I’m guessing Belinda told you?”
“She may have mentioned something. Looks like if you don’t walk away from this Danny mess, she’s gonna fire you. Then the Malibu job will be mine.”
One of the elevators in the bank dings, and Belinda herself appears, breezing through on her way to her office.
“If you want to move so badly, why are you still messing with Callista?” I say, hiding the report in my bag.
“She doesn’t seem to have a problem with it.”
“Yes, she does,” I insist. “You haven’t seen her pink-nosed and teary-eyed in the restroom. You treat her poorly.”
“I treat everyone the same way, Lauren,” he says, leaning back. “And that’s how they let me.”
“You are literally the worst,” I whisper as Belinda and the other life coaches file into the conference room.
The status meeting begins, but my eyes keep sliding to the clock. I need to find Danny. Pull him out of whatever limiting behavior he’s crawled back into and tell him I believe him. Tell him that I know he didn’t cheat.
I just hope I’m not too late.
Two hours later, I stop my bike just short of the gym entrance and lean it against the side of the building.
I’ve been all over town looking for Danny, but this is the last place I thought to check.
I figured he’d be drowning his sorrows in tropical cocktails and sweet treats, not sweat.
But I can see him inside, working out as if his life depended on it.
Topher sees me and comes outside, closing the door behind him. I give him a big hug, going up on my tiptoes to reach his shoulders. Then I hand him my phone.
He rolls his eyes, and instead of going to the notes app so we can type back and forth, he downloads an American Sign Language learning app and gives me a stern look.
“OK, OK. I’ll learn,” I say, and smile. Then I switch to the notes app and type, How is he?
Topher: Bad. Running on the treadmill like something is chasing him.
Me: Is Gracie here?
Topher: No. She left town.
Topher frowns, holding the back of his neck.
Me: We’ll get her back. I may have found a way to get Danny back on the card.
Topher: But the fight is a week from today. It’s not possible.
Me: Just get him to this address Wednesday morning at nine. Let him borrow a suit. And whatever you do, don’t let him wear Crocs.
The emergency arbitration hearing is held on the top floor of a windowless room in the Columbia Center Tower. Legal tomes line the walls, and a glossy table sits like an ice rink in the center of the chilly room.
“Are you sure he’s coming?” Dad asks as we take our seats.
I busy my restless hands by twisting my hair into a knot at my neck and securing it with a pencil. It falls out almost immediately.
“If he doesn’t,” I say, tapping the pencil on the table, “he’ll be suspended from the UFC indefinitely. I don’t know … maybe that’s what he wants.” I glance behind me again, urging him to darken the door.
My mouth drops open.
Danny is wearing a three-piece suit tailored to skim every muscle and dark, secret-agent sunglasses.
My throat constricts. I swallow to loosen it a bit.
“That’s him, huh?” Dad says, twisting in his chair. “Now this shit makes more sense.”
I stand, ignoring him.
“Danny,” I say, my tone clipped.
“Hello, Lauren.” Danny removes his glasses but doesn’t meet my eye. Instead, he’s glancing around the room, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Up close, he looks tired. His color is off. Stubble shadows his jawline, and gray half-moons sit under his eyes.
I cross my arms. “I was worried you wouldn’t come.”
Danny sighs, running his hand wearily through his hair. “Gracie threatened to sue me if I didn’t at least attempt to fulfill my training contract.” His eyes finally meet mine, hazel and earnest. “I know putting this together wasn’t easy. Thank you. Really.”
“Just doing my job.”
He nods, absorbing my cold tone like a blow. Good. Maya and Corinne only partly convinced me to forgive him, so he can just freeze a bit longer.
“Let me do the talking, son,” Dad says at our approach, shaking Danny’s hand. “If you’re asked a question, stick to yes or no answers. We’ve got a trick card up our sleeves. If all goes well, we may get this thing dropped before lunch.”
“Thank you for your help, sir,” Danny says, his voice deep. He takes his seat and looks straight ahead, and my gaze can’t help but linger on the chiseled granite of his jaw. I catch the court reporter doing the same, fanning herself with a document.
“I’d do anything for my daughter,” Dad goes on. “Even if helping her means she and her soulmate, Casey, will move away from me.”
My head pops up. “Dad.”
“What, you didn’t think I knew about that? Can’t trick a trickster, love.” He winks at me. “Maya told me everything. You’re following Casey down to California because you’re in love with him. I’m all for it, honey. It’s about time the two of you got together. You guys make the perfect couple.”
I glance at Danny. He stares straight ahead, his face unreadable.
Not that I should care about Danny’s reaction. What he did to me was insensitive and selfish and … and he used me. He seduced me, just to keep himself busy.
But now that he’s here … damn. I can feel myself thawing.
It’s hard to stay properly furious with someone when they’re clearly so miserable.
Especially when said misery makes them look all brooding and tortured in an unfairly sexy way: the hooded eyes, the five o’clock shadow.
And the fact that I’m now sexualizing him during a legal proceeding proves Maya was right.
He unlocked me, and I liked it. I did my fair share of the seducing too.
Most of it, actually … all so I could land another man.
But somewhere along the way, my motivations changed.
Is it so impossible to believe that Danny’s did too?
I’m about to ask if we can step outside to talk when three officials in suits in varying shades of gray file in and sit across the reflective table.
One is a stern woman with the same sperm-eyebrowed aesthetic I’d expected from Helena before meeting her, and the other two are interchangeable men with cotton-candy-textured combovers.
“She’s late,” Dad whispers.
“Perpetually,” I whisper back. “But don’t worry. She’ll be here.”
“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” says the court reporter.
“I do,” Danny says, giving her a curt, earnest nod that makes her cheeks go pink.
“This emergency hearing is to review the evidence leveraged against one Mr. Daniel Kekoa,” Sperm Eyebrows says, shuffling official-looking papers in front of her.
Dad rises. “I’m here as emeritus pro bono counsel on behalf of Mr. Kekoa. We have reason to believe Danny tested positive for ostarine through no fault of his own, due to a tainted nutrition supplement.”
“Which supplement?” she says, scribbling on a legal pad.
Dad looks over to me and I look back at the door. Where is she?