Got A Hold On You (Ringside Romance) (29 page)

Unless they’re dropped head first on a steel door,
tossed out of the ring onto a wooden table, or fall from the top of a
fifteen-foot cage.

“Bradley, I don’t think you’re seeing the whole
picture.”

“I know what I know.”

That was that, his signal that the conversation was
over.

What did it matter? In another month or two she’d be
out of the wrestling business and back to her real life. Why make an issue out
of it? He’d never change his mind and it wasn’t worth ruining her future
engagement.

“Tell me about this uncle of yours.” He chewed his
lettuce with precision and focus.

“He’s a businessman who’s having some financial
trouble with his company.”

“What kind of company?”

She hesitated, gripping her fork so tightly she
thought it might snap in two. How much should she tell?

“Entertainment,” she said.

“Really? Like making movies?”

“Something like that.”

“Maybe you can get me a part as an extra.”

She stifled a giggle at the thought of Bradley dressed
in orange tights flexing his kiwi-sized biceps.

He froze in mid-stab of his salad. “It’s not porn, is
it?” Was that horror or hope in his voice?

“Nope, not porn.”

Although, according to his diatribe about wrestling it
might as well be.

“How long will you be helping him out?”

“About another month or so. It depends on how things
progress.”

“Why haven’t you mentioned him before?”

“He’s a bit of a character. He’s been involved in many
businesses, some less respectable than others. It’s not something Mom and I are
proud of.”

“Then why do you associate with him at all?”

“He’s my uncle. I love him.”

“Well, we can’t pick our relatives, that’s true.”

Something rankled her.

Reaching over, he patted her hand. “You’re a good
girl, sweets. It’s very generous of you to help your uncle.”

“You think so?”

“Absolutely. It shows great strength of character,
loyalty and devotion.”

If he only knew. She couldn’t tell him, not now. She
wanted to enjoy this evening. It had been an insane week and she needed a nice,
quiet dinner with her future fiancé, her stability, her rock.

“A quarter for your thoughts,” he said with a reserved
smile.

“I was thinking about how long it’s been since we’ve
enjoyed a relaxing dinner like this.”

Roars emanated from the bar. He clenched his jaw. So
much for relaxation.

“I’m not going to let anyone or anything ruin this
evening.” He took a deep breath, reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out
a black velvet box.

The black velvet box.

Her heart raced triple time. “Bradley?”

“We got word on Friday. Come July first, I’ll be the
youngest partner at Lundstrom, Marks and Beetle. It’s official.”

She stared at the box, a million thoughts racing
through her mind. This was it. The moment she’d been waiting for since she was
seven. Her handsome prince was offering Frankie her dream: a perfect life.

“Bradley, I—”

The bar doors burst open, and a roar blew into the
restaurant.

“That’s it. We’re leaving, and we’re not paying for
dinner.”

He shoved the box back into his pocket and took her
hand. As he dragged her through the Garden Room, her thoughts spun and her
heart pounded with excitement, nervous energy and panic.

Panic?

He marched up to the hostess. “This is a special night
and your atmosphere has completely ruined things. I’m not paying for dinner,
and I won’t be back.”

“I’m sorry sir, isn’t there anything we can do?”

He waved her off dismissively and glanced over his
shoulder at Frankie. “Let’s go. We’ll find another establishment that has the
proper atmosphere.”

Pushing through the bar doors, he marched toward the
exit. Men laughed and screamed as they watched something on television. She
couldn’t rip her gaze from the back of Bradley’s head. Her husband, man and
wife, her very own happily-ever-after.

He stopped suddenly and Frankie bumped into his back.

“Bradley?” She searched his face.

He gaped at the television above the bar and turned to
Frankie, his eyes wide, and his face pale. “Francine, what are you doing on
television? And why are you dressed like that?”

“So, I guess this means the engagement’s off?” she
said, leaning against her rental car.

“I don’t know, Francine. I don’t know what to say or
what to think. I’m perplexed.”

It had taken a good half hour to get Bradley to
breathe normally and when he finally did, he looked completely defeated.

“I thought I knew everything about you,” he said. “You
like the generic brand of catsup, you never eat red meat for dinner because it
will disrupt your sleep, and you spend Sunday evenings reading those fluff
romance novels.”

“Fluff?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“I thought we were totally compatible, in sync with
one another’s wants and needs.” He fingered his suit coat where the engagement
ring bulged inside his pocket. “But this…I don’t know what to do with this.”

Anger bubbled up in her chest. He was acting as if he
was the one to make all the decisions in their relationship.

“You said you admired me for helping my uncle. It
showed loyalty and strength of character, remember?”

“That’s before I knew what kind of business he was
in.”

“Come on, Bradley. It’s not like I’m selling my body
or robbing banks.”

“But Francine...wrestling?” he hushed.

She hated that tone, that shaming tone that made her
feel like she was four and had been caught smashing her mother’s perfume
bottles to smithereens.

This time she’d done nothing wrong. Not in her book.
“I’m sorry this is so offensive to you. I didn’t choose my uncle’s business,
but I’m trying to save it. He’s been good to me and I owe him.”

“That’s another thing.” Bradley started pacing. “I’d
never heard about this uncle until today yet now, suddenly, he’s the most
important male figure in your life?” He ran his hand through his hair, sending
stray waves flopping to one side.

“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings,” she said. “I’m sorry
I lied. I didn’t know what else to do. It started as a simple financial
analysis and ended up—”

“With you taking your clothes off!”

“I did not take my clothes off. I have a costume. I
play a part.”

“And that part included kissing another man, crying
over him. You’re quite an actress.”

No, I’m not. The
tears were real, the kisses...

“Thank you,” she said, recovering.

“I didn’t mean it as a compliment.” He paced to the
restaurant entrance and back.

“My uncle gave me presents when I was a kid,
remembered my birthday when my own father couldn’t be bothered. Uncle Joe asked
me for this one thing: to help him save WHAK. I analyzed his books and offered
advice, but it was grim. Then an opportunity presented itself to draw in
thousands of dollars in sponsorship. He needed me to fill in for one of the
girls. There was no one else. It was an emergency and I was there.”

She didn’t dare reveal her uncle’s involvement with
the mob.

“And that man you kissed?”

“Jack? He’s a twenty-year veteran of wrestling. He’s
my partner.”

Bradley lifted a brow.

“It’s a business relationship, Bradley. You should be
able to appreciate that.”

“Well, I don’t. I don’t understand any of it. I mean,
Frankie, professional wrestling of all things.”

“Yes, professional wrestling. It’s not like I murdered
someone, for heaven’s sake. It’s a job, like any other.”

“My God, your job! Francine, you’ll be fired.”

“That’s against the law. What I do with my leave of
absence is my own business. No one else’s.” She bit back her own fears about
her career. Someone had to keep a level head, and it sure as sunshine wasn’t
going to be Bradley.

“I’ll be fired,” he croaked.

“What are you talking about?”

“When they find out at work I’ll be a laughingstock.
I’m engaged to a professional wrestler.”

His self-absorption rankled her. “I’m not a wrestler,
I’m a tiger lady.”

“Well, that makes it all right, then.” He paced to the
corner of the lot and back, stopping five feet from her. That was as close as
he’d been since his discovery that she’d been moonlighting as a feline.

“And this man, your partner? What part does he play?”

“He’s my husband.”

“What!”

“It’s in the script.”

“Then there’s nothing between you?”

Her fingers burned at the memory of Jack’s warm, solid
chest. She brushed them against her twill pants.

“Of course not.
 
Look, I’m hungry and tired, and we’ve been going at this for an hour.
Can’t we at least get something to eat?” She pushed away from the car and
searched her purse for her keys.

“I’ve lost my appetite.” He sounded like a
six-year-old who’d had his skateboard taken away, or in Bradley’s case, his
calculator.

“Okay. So what now?” she challenged, something she’d
never done before.

They’d had their share of “discussions” when she’d
plead her case and occasionally even win. Bradley believed in fairness, after
all.

Yet she’d been anything but fair to him these past few
weeks since she’d basically been lying to him.

She touched his arm. “Listen, why don’t I give you a
ride to the hotel and we can order room service.”

“I need to think.” He pressed his thumb and forefinger
to the bridge of his nose.

“You’ll think better on a full stomach.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I need space,
Francine. A little time to figure out what all this means.”

Her heart sank as she watched her perfect life swirl
down the proverbial toilet before her eyes. “Okay. I’ll drop you at the hotel.”

“No. I’ll catch a cab.”

“Bradley—”

“Please, Francine.” He sounded pained, or was that
irritation in his voice, irritation that his perfect little woman wasn’t so
perfect after all?

“You’ll call me tomorrow?” she said.

“I’ve got meetings all day, not that I’ll be able to
concentrate. I’ll try you later in the week,” he said, walking toward the
restaurant door.

“Bradley?”

He turned.

“I am sorry.”

He nodded and disappeared into Leo’s.

She slid behind the wheel of her rented Chevy. Well,
that was that. All the months of planning their perfect life together, picking
out safe cribs and china patterns, arguing about investments and brands of
toothpaste…

It was all for naught. It was over.

She pulled away from the curb and headed for the
expressway. It couldn’t be over. She couldn’t lose everything she’d dreamed of
because of a misunderstanding.

“Some misunderstanding.” She tuned the radio to a jazz
station, something she wouldn’t do in Bradley’s company. He preferred
traditional classics to uninhibited jazz.

Bradley. A knot formed in her throat. She was going to
lose him because of Uncle Joe. Mama was right. Certain men always pulled you
into the eye of the storm. Uncle Joe was one of them.

Black Jack Hudson was another.

His very essence drew her in, seduced her in a way she
didn’t understand. And the jerk didn’t have a clue how attracted she was to
him, nor did he care. It was a struggle for him to be civil to her, mostly
barking orders and pushing her away, like last night in the hospital. He’d
pushed her away when he needed her the most, the fool.

No. He didn’t need Frankie. He needed someone, anyone
who could offer love and compassion against his protests. Things she should
save for her life mate not give away to a transient, burned-out athlete. It
wasn’t like there could be anything real between them. Jack wasn’t stable,
focused, or directed. Who knew where he’d end up next. Would he race cars?
Climb mountains? He probably hadn’t a clue himself. As a wrestling superstar
his options were limited. With the lack of respect for wrestling he’d probably
be laughed out of traditional job interviews. Then again, she didn’t picture
him dressing in a navy suit and working for a Fortune 500 company.

She didn’t picture him fitting into her life, period.

Pushing the car to fifty-five, she merged into the
flow of traffic on the Kennedy and headed west. Her eyes burned with the threat
of unshed tears.

“Oh, grow up,” she scolded herself. “If he really
loves you he’ll forgive you.”

Frankie let out a gut-wrenching sigh. She and Bradley
never really talked about love, only commitment, loyalty, and investing in
diaper and dental equipment stock.

“He must love me,” she whispered and caught herself.
She didn’t want love. Not now, not ever. She’d seen how her mother had suffered
thanks to love. What else would have compelled Emma McGee to stay with a man
who was barely around? If that was love Frankie wanted no part of it.

At least that was what she’d told herself for the past
thirty years. She didn’t need love and she wouldn’t miss it. She’d find
contentment instead.

The empty spot in her heart spread across her chest.
The temptation of love had never even entered her thoughts…

Until Jack stormed into her life.

“No, this has nothing to do with him.”

Deep down she knew it had everything to do with Black
Jack Hudson, a man who ruled with his heart not his head. He cared about
people, complete strangers, offering compassion and a part of himself every
time he shook a hand or told a story. He was about passion and drive, and going
with the flow.

And surprisingly, he’d opened her eyes to a new way of
thinking. She actually thought the word “love.” She wasn’t sure Bradley was
aware of the concept. He, too, seemed to lead with his head and avoid warm and
fuzzy things, or the painful ache in one’s chest that came with a lover’s
rejection.