Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

I t was getting harder and harder to find a bar where they could drink in peace these days. Amelia had always sworn she wouldn’t become one of those people who complained about how hard it was to be rich and famous, knowing firsthand how aggravating it was to hear when you weren’t similarly afflicted, but it had been a long damn season and right now if one more grinning fan popped up wanting a photograph, she didn’t trust herself not to snap like a twig.

Thank God for Carmen. She’d shot through an address an hour ago, and though the cab driver had questioned Amelia twice before he’d accepted her fare and let her get out of the car, she knew right away she was in the right place. Out in the outer suburbs of the big city, far enough away from all the glitz and glam that there wouldn’t be any tourists with their eyes peeled for celebrities. It was still Los Angeles, though, which Amelia was hoping would mean that the locals would be jaded enough by their own encounters with Hollywood A-listers that spotting someone like Amelia wouldn’t even register on their radar.

It was a rough neighborhood, Amelia noted — no wonder the cab driver had been so wary of leaving her here by herself. A young woman, late on a Saturday night and alone in a neighborhood like this… she was glad she’d tipped him well. But his concern about her told her that he hadn’t recognized her. If he had, her safety in a place like this would’ve been the last thing on his mind. Grinning to herself, she pulled her jacket a little tighter around her shoulders — it never got properly freezing out here, not like it did back home, but the night air was chilly. With the week she’d had, honestly, she’d have welcomed a bit of trouble from a stranger on the street. It would be nice to get some frustration out, and to teach a scumbag or two to think twice before they bothered a woman walking alone…

Not that she made a habit of stalking the streets like Batman, of course. Maybe when she’d been a kid, just starting out with her martial arts training, she’d allowed herself to fantasize about that idea. But it hadn’t taken her teachers long to beat that idealism out of her. The best fighter in the world would lose to the worst every time, if the worst was armed. A gun or even a knife tipped the odds too far. There was a reason cops were armed with more than just their fists. But Amelia had never liked weapons much. It was hand-to-hand combat that she loved, not keeping the peace. And so, after a brief flirtation with the idea of joining the police force or the army, she’d chosen her path.

And it had been a hard, bloody path — quite literally. She had the genetics, she had the physical resilience, and she had the grit to train harder and harder with every passing day… but even then, she was well aware how much luck had been involved with getting her to where she was. Stronger fighters than her had fallen by the wayside — fighters with more talent, with more determination, with more sheer strength knocked out by misfortune, by a blow that hit just the right spot to cause a career-ending injury — or even worse, by pointless industry politics, by pissing off the wrong promoter at the wrong time, or choosing the wrong manager.

Well, Amelia hadn’t chosen the wrong manager. Amelia had Carmen. Carmen Fianto, these days the most sought-after manager in just about the whole damn game… but a decade ago when they’d met, she hadn’t had that reputation to go on. Amelia had had to trust her gut, and her gut told her that she liked the pint-sized fireball with the fierce blue eyes who’d bounced out of her seat at the bar to pull her into a hug instead of the usual sterile handshake. There had been plenty of buzz back then, with Amelia’s prospects growing by the day as the industry began to sit up and take notice of the young rookie with the buzzcut black hair. There were bigger names she could’ve gone with … but she’d trusted her gut, and her gut had rewarded her not only with a manager who’d never put a foot wrong, but with a lifelong friendship she treasured more than just about any other relationship in her life.

Which explained why she was walking into a dingy bar in the Los Angeles suburbs right now, scanning the smokey room for that familiar silhouette. Carmen was in the most inconspicuous booth in the place, of course — old habits. Not that anyone would have seen them even if they’d sat at the bar with a neon sign above their heads.

“This place is perfect,” Amelia said with a relieved sigh, sliding into the booth opposite Carmen. Her friend flashed her a smile, manicured nails rattling rapidly off her phone screen. Her typing speed was nothing short of alarming — but Amelia had seen how quickly her email inbox filled up, and she’d long since given up trying to talk her friend into putting the phone down until she was good and ready.

“Well, when you drink with me, you only get bothered when you want to.” Carmen grinned as a final flurry of taps signed off her final email, then set the phone triumphantly down on the table. “So. What’re we drinking to first?”

“The fight,” Amelia fired back, returning the grin. There was a pitcher of beer on the table already, and she poured them both a generous glassful.

“Sorry to put you up against such a pushover,” Carmen said, eyes sparkling. “I’ll try to find you more of a challenge next time.”

Amelia laughed as she raised her glass. “Oh, yeah. If there’s one thing they say about Ruby Gunn, it’s how easy she is to knock out.”

Carmen was messing with her, of course. The fight had been one of the most grueling of Amelia’s career to date, and winning it ranked among her top five proudest career moments to date, easy.

“Here’s to you, you absolute machine. Top of your game and still climbing.”

“Wouldn’t be here without you,” Amelia responded, clinking her glass against her manager’s. They both drank deeply, letting the atmosphere of the bar fill the almost reverent silence between them.

“Alright,” Carmen said briskly. “That’s enough sappy stuff for the night. Next subject.”

“That’s it? I beat one of the toughest female fighters in US history, and we take a single sip of beer before we’re talking about the next one? You’re a hard taskmaster, Fianto.”

“Absolutely not,” Carmen retorted sharply. “We’re wallowing in this victory for a month at least. You didn’t think I’d forgotten about our deal, did you?”

“Our deal?” Amelia tried not to look as guilty as she felt. She’d hoped that Carmen had forgotten about the agreement they’d made at the beginning of the season, but she knew she should’ve known better. Carmen had a mind like a steel trap — and just in case that failed her, she wrote absolutely everything down, too.

“Yes, our deal. Our deal that you’re going to take a damn break.” Carmen’s smile was suddenly steely. “I’ve seen more than enough fighters burn themselves out then go down to an avoidable injury, Amelia. You’re going supersonic right now, and that’s exciting, but I’ll be damned if I let that happen to you.”

Amelia had locked eyes with some of the most formidable women in the country, but none of them ever put the kind of fear into her that Carmen did with that smile. She spread her hands in surrender and nodded agreement, relieved to see the tension in her manager’s smile drop a few notches. “A break. Agreed. Absolutely.”

“Try to sound a little less like I’m sending you to the gallows, maybe,” Carmen said drily. “It’ll be good for you. A couple of weeks somewhere, lots of food, lots of sleep… do I really have to twist your arm on this one? Sunshine! Beaches! Or mountains, or… you know, we’ve known each other a decade and I genuinely don’t know what you do to relax.”

“Neither do I,” Amelia admitted, winning a laugh from her manager. “But I’ll figure it out.”

“Hawaii’s always a safe bet,” Carmen said with a shrug. “Throw some of those winnings at a fancy resort, you’ll be a different person when you come back. A few cocktails by the pool, maybe a holiday fling with some sun-kissed stranger…” Carmen sighed. “My sales pitch is too good. Now I want to go.”

“Come with me,” Amelia suggested. “I’m sure there’ll be plenty of sun-kissed strangers for two of us.”

Carmen snorted. “Yeah, maybe. Get back to me once I get through my backlog.” One manicured finger tapped on her phone, still face-down on the table between them. “Should be anywhere from three years to three centuries.”

“Shame.” Amelia sighed. “I don’t know, though. Hawaii feels a little close to home, you know? Not to sound like an absolute asshole, but… I want to go somewhere where nobody recognizes me. I’m so damn sick of being Amelia Cosgrove.” She finished her beer and poured herself another one, gathering her strength. “I didn’t tell you about my date the other night, did I?”

“I was maintaining a respectful silence,” Carmen said gravely. “But I’m guessing it wasn’t great, based on the rage you brought to the fight.”

Amelia snorted. “Yeah, I guess I’ve got him to thank for the win. He was a perfect gentleman the whole night — none of the dealbreaker fame-seeking bullshit, wasn’t weird about it when fans recognized me, actually wanted to hear about who I was — and I mean, I showed you his picture, right? That didn’t hurt.”

“You’ve always had a weakness for blue eyes,” Carmen said, fluttering her lashes over her own bright blue eyes. “That’s why we get on so well.”

“His hotel was closer, so I walked him home,” Amelia continued after another steadying draft of beer. “I could’ve sworn he was ready to call it a night right there. He played this so well, Carmen, I can’t even tell you. I basically had to invite myself up.”

“You absolute wildcat,” Carmen said, eyes glowing with approval. “Love this. Loving this for you. So far,” she added, her smile fading a little at the look on Amelia’s face. “I’m guessing things got weird?”

“Cameras, Carmen. He had three damn cameras set up around the bed.”

“No!”

“I swear he did. They were well-hidden, too. I wouldn’t have seen a damn thing if I hadn’t noticed one of the boxes in the trash. This asshole was trying to film a sex tape with me. Can you imagine—” She broke off, feeling her hands clenching alarmingly tightly around the glass she was holding. It wouldn’t be the first glass she’d broken.

“What did you do?” Carmen’s eyes were wide. “Is this the part where I help you hide a body? Because I just got my nails done, but I’m willing.”

“I refrained from inflicting physical harm,” Amelia said with as much dignity as she could muster. “On him, anyway — which I think he was surprised by.” She huffed laughter.

The one redeeming memory of the whole horrible evening had been the look of abject fear on the guy’s face when she’d pulled his first camera out of its hiding place and turned to confront him.

“Smashed the cameras up, though.”

“Flick his name and the name of the hotel through to me,” Carmen said immediately, scooping her phone off the desk. “Let me make his life hell over this for a little while, huh?”

“You don’t have to?—”

“I want to,” Carmen cut her off sharply, blue eyes burning. “That’s shitty as hell, what happened to you, babe. It happened because you’re hot, and female, and young, and famous, and that’s absolute bullshit — but what also comes with money and fame is power. I doubt you’re the first girl this creep has preyed on, but if you let me, I can make sure you’re the last. Let me make him suffer, Amelia. Please?”

“Hell yeah. Let’s be Batman,” Amelia said, and the savage glee on Carmen’s face was enough to make her feel a little less shitty about the whole situation — at least for a minute or two. “It would’ve been more satisfying to beat the shit out of him, but… you know. Moral high ground and all that.”

“Ah, the high road. Famously lonely.” Carmen grinned. “What’s that old song you used to sing back in the road trip days? You take the high road, and I’ll take the low road?—”

“—and I’ll be in Scotland before you,” Amelia finished the melody, laughing. “My grandma’s favorite.”

She sipped her beer, watching as Carmen tapped furiously on the screen of her phone. No doubt the creep she’d been on that date with would be having a very difficult weekend. The song kept echoing in her mind, and she felt an idea beginning to coalesce as she finished her second beer. By the time Carmen looked up again, the idea had taken a fragile shape. Like Carmen had said, her star was well and truly on the rise here. But it was a wide, wide world… and though she might have been reaching household name status here, she’d never so much as left the United States.

“I think I know where I want to go on vacation.”

“Great.” Carmen beamed, ever the professional — then pulled a laptop out of her handbag and slammed it down on the sticky bar table. “Let’s get you booked .”