Chapter 10 Grayson
GRAYSON
Gray kept his grip on the bannister headed downstairs loose, although his blood was churning. The way she’d looked, having so much fun in a chair. He’d wanted to leap from the couch and show her exactly how much fun could be had in a chair like that.
But that wasn’t where their relationship was headed, he reminded himself, for what felt like the hundredth time. At the bottom of the stairs, he came face to face with Kris Gaidar, holding a pizza. Wordlessly, he handed the box to Grayson and turned away.
She’d dated him. This huge, jacked, accent-spoken guy had spent time with her, held her, kissed her, maybe slept with her. Maybe she had a thing for guys with accents. Or maybe, he thought, glancing at Gaidar as he sat watching the screens, she liked mutes.
As he climbed the stairs wondering what the attraction had been, it took more effort than he would have liked to not visualize them naked, and his traitorous mind did it anyway. It didn’t matter, he assured himself. All that mattered was the contract.
Perhaps he slammed the door open a little too hard and swung it closed with just enough boom to echo off the walls. He saw Lexi staring at him with raised brows.
“It sticks,” he said, by way of explanation. “Hungry?”
She smiled as he handed the box over to her, only then noticing that he’d crushed the box flat where he’d gripped it.
He repeated it in his mind like a mantra: it didn’t matter.
He walked past the couches to get them both plates, but hesitated in front of her armchair when he saw she was already halfway through her first slice.
He pivoted, put the plates back, and grabbed the roll of paper towels. Handing her two, he wondered where to start, and remembered she’d neatly evaded his question earlier.
“So now that I’ve fed you, exactly how many of my employees have you dated?”
Lexi paused mid chew and took a long drink out of her water bottle as she assessed him, looking sideways. He watched her cheeks hollow as her throat worked, and Grayson was the first to look away. He really wished she could have been a great fighter that he wasn’t attracted to.
Two slices of pizza sitting on paper towels hid the slight discomfort in his jeans, and he sat back, ready to wait. She’d answer his questions, eventually.
Once the bottle was empty, Lexi shrugged.
“Just Kris.”
He struggled to determine whether that made Kris more important or less. It was obvious she got hit on all the time. Was Kris different? Was she particular? Did she have a dating preference he didn’t know about yet? It didn’t matter. At least the pizza was good. She echoed his thoughts.
“This is great. Thanks for dinner.”
“You’re welcome. So what do you think?”
Lexi paused in the middle of her next bite, and he watched her tongue seek out the small swollen bit on her lower lip.
“Think of what?”
He smiled and took a large bite of pizza. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was much more interested in the pizza than in her potential job. At least at that moment.
“The fights, Lexi. Being my sub.”
She looked startled, so he quickly added, “At least in looks, around here. Do you want to fight for me?”
She grabbed another slice of pizza from the box and leaned back.
“I do.”
She left it at that and began picking each slice of pepperoni off her pizza, eating them one by one.
Why anyone would take their toppings off, only to eat them anyway, was beyond him. He focused on the more easily understood; she wanted to fight for him.
“Great. I have a couple of ideas, and an offer here-” he said, and reached for the papers, but they weren’t where he’d left them on the coffee table.
“I’m going to want more than a regular employee at-will contract,” she said, gesturing to the papers now tucked next to her in her spinney chair.
Grayson tried not to be annoyed that she’d taken the paperwork. It pertained to her, and he’d left them sitting out. But he’d planned on going over them with her himself.
“Clearly you went through the offer,” he said, “and what did you think?”
Lexi held up a finger and picked up a napkin, using it to wipe the last traces of pizza off her face.
“I think it’s a little low, honestly. Given your cover charge, the member tiers and fees, not even including your food and drinks, you can afford more. I’m going to make you a lot of money.”
Grayson shook his head. “We can’t be certain if this new arena is going to be a hit or not.”
Lexi grinned, and finally Grayson glimpsed the confident fighter he’d seen that afternoon.
“It will be,” she said simply.
He rose to take the papers from her, and patted his pockets for a pen.
“Here.” she said, holding out a ballpoint.
“Thanks.”
Mentally juggling numbers, he upped the offer to what he’d meant to do since that afternoon, and added a monthly injury stipend just in case. Lexi took it back and read it over, then shook her head.
“I honestly can’t offer you any more money until we see exactly how much of a profit we can count on from the arena, maybe a few months from now.”
“No, that’s not it. I don’t want the monthly stipend.”
Grayson paused and sat back on the loveseat, although he’d moved closer to her chair.
“I don’t understand. You don’t want it? It’s in case you get injured.”
“I don’t want it, Grayson, because at some point I’m going to get injured.”
In the silence that sank in, and he didn’t care for the discomfort in his gut, thinking of her getting really hurt. Because of him. Maybe he could blame the quick clutch in his guts on the pizza.
“So if or when I do, the Club will pay all of my medical fees. In addition, I’d like to be paid weekly. I need meals on my fight nights, and the Club will pay the winning fee if I lose.”
His brows were lifted and remained so as he took a sip of his cocktail.
The warmth burned just a little, but hit the right note - as did her requests.
He wasn’t surprised she’d asked for more pay, but the rest…
she had an excellent head for business. It would seem there was much more to Miss Lexi than he knew. Which brought him to another thought.
“I might have to lower the pay by a bit, just to make everyone else under this roof happy, but I think I can meet that.”
“Last thing I can think of, I’m getting paid per fight, right?”
Again, she surprised him.
“It isn’t broken up that way right now, but we can do that. Why?”
She tilted her head as if he were a little simple.
“That way I’m not fighting four matches a week and getting paid the same.”
“Understandable.”
It was quite possible, he thought, that this woman would get a solid portion of the arena’s profits. The guys were going to give him so much shit about it.
Grayson was making his last notes and took another sip before asking, “Do you have a business degree I should have been made aware of before talking to you about a job?”
At the silence he glanced up, and there she was, blushing again. Only this time she didn’t fight it, and kept her gaze down to the side. Realization dawned.
“You do.” Well, that explained a lot.