Making Him Sweat & Taking Him Down. Meg Maguire

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СКАЧАТЬ your dad was guilty of anything all those years ago, it was trusting the wrong people. He put his faith in guys like me, but that time he got burned. Bad.”

      “Maybe.” But likely not.

      “He might have been a crappy father and husband, not even much of a businessman, but he wasn’t a criminal. Listen. As shady as this place used to be, and still is, in some people’s eyes—”

      “A lot of people’s eyes.”

      “It meant the world to your dad, and to dozens of us. Jerks like me, but kids, too—teenagers, you know? If the gym weren’t here, those guys would take whatever energy they pour into training and redirect it the wrong way. I know ’cause I used to be that kid myself, until my mom made me come here and your old man taught me about discipline and dedication. But it’s nothing like it used to be. I’ll show you every last corner of it. Every receipt from the past ten years, if you need proof. We’ve got nothing to hide.”

      She sank back in her chair, unwilling to be swayed by his little speech. Jenna was a softie at her core, a woman who sniffled during especially poignant life insurance commercials, sobbed through romantic movies and fell to pieces at weddings. But she’d uprooted herself to take advantage of the one taste of generosity her dad had ever bothered offering her. As tall and built and intimidating as Mercer Rowley might be, she’d prove herself twice as tough a competitor. She hadn’t moved her entire life to this city so she could watch her bottom line slowly get eaten up by the floundering gym—the same way it had eaten up the child support payments her mom never received.

      Mercer ran a hand through his short hair. “Look. I don’t know you, and I don’t know what you think goes on here.”

      “You’re going to tell me it’s noble, I’m sure. But I know it’s more than that. A boy’s club, for starters, no women allowed—”

      “That’s one of the things I’ll look into, now that I’m the manager. And it’s not that they’re not allowed, there’s just no place for them to change.”

      “How very welcoming.”

      “All it needs is a bit of rehab, to make space for a second locker room—”

      She cut him off, shaking her head. “Save your breath. I know this place meant more to my father than having a relationship with his daughter, so I’m a hard sell, trust me.”

      His eyes widened. “Are you kidding? Your dad never shut up about you.”

      The remark felt like a punch to the head, spinning her around.

      Mercer went on. “‘Jenna’s team came in first at the swim meet. Jenna got hired as a camp counselor. Jenna’s going to college in Seattle. Jenna got a job on a cruise ship.’”

      “Like any of that makes up for him not making any effort to be in my life.”

      His face flipped through a range of emotions, but no words passed his twitching lips.

      “What? Go on, since you’re such an expert about my relationship with my father.”

      His shook his head. “You’re right, it’s none of my business. But I love this place and I loved your dad, and like it or not, you’re stuck with me, unless you feel like finding yourself a new GM.”

      Stuck indeed. It wasn’t ideal, opening a dating service for successful professionals smack-dab in the entryway to a disreputable boxing gym. But then again, Mercer had a history here. He might prove a pain in her neck, but she was also turning his life inside out. He’d inherited this mess, same as her…but without the legal empowerment. It had to feel awful. She wouldn’t convince him the gym needed a mercy killing any more than he’d convince her it was worth keeping open.

      It was going to be an ugly autumn, but she’d better just accept that.

      Her body had been tight as a fist, but she felt the grip softening, relenting. “We’re not going to see eye to eye on this.”

      “No.”

      “And I mean what I said—I haven’t decided for sure I’m closing the gym when New Year’s rolls around. But don’t…”

      “Don’t get my hopes up?”

      “Exactly. I’m not trying to be a cold-hearted bitch. But I’ve seen the books. If things don’t change, and fast, there’s no justifying keeping the place open.”

      Mercer blew out a long breath, leaning back on the desk to blink up at the ceiling.

      She pondered this naked display of angst from a man whose job it surely was to camouflage his emotions behind a wall of strength, real or affected. Before they met she’d prepared herself to be intimidated by his anger, but it was Mercer’s openness that had her stymied. She glanced at his arms, at his fascinating, heavy-knuckled hands. Very odd breed, these fighter types. Her body warmed in a way that had alarmingly little to do with conflict.

      Bad, bad, bad.

      Romances were like candles. Lust was the flame, and passion the wick. Lust was important of course, but it was the practical compatibilities that made up the wax—shared goals, harmonious personalities, a healthy overlap of values and interests. The more wax you had, the thicker and taller a pillar you could make, and keep that wick burning nice and slow, keep the flame alive years after that initial spark.

      With Mercer’s body this close, she felt the scrape of the match head across the striker, but that was the end of it. An invitation to get burned. Nothing more.

      “Four months,” Mercer muttered.

      “Four and a half.” She hazarded a smile. “Hope you like a challenge.”

      He met her eyes. “I do. But this fight would be a hell of a lot easier if I had any control over the accounts and could fund even a few of the improvements this place needs to get profitable again. Your dad never even shelled out to have a website done.”

      “I noticed.” If you looked the gym up on Google, eight of the first ten hits had to do with Monty Wilinski’s criminal trial. PR was not on Mercer’s side.

      “If you’re honestly willing to give the gym a chance during these next few months, I hope you realize change costs money. Maybe not a lot, but something.”

      “It’s my intention to be reasonable.”

      Mercer exhaled mightily, seeming ready to put the argument to bed for the moment.

      She softened her voice. “I think it’s best for everyone if we keep this between ourselves. This whole trial period thing.”

      “On that, we’re agreed…. You want a tour of the place while you’re here? Quick look at your inheritance?”

      “No, thank you. Some other time, maybe.”

      He nodded, seeming unsurprised. “You know, I forgot to say it, but I’m sorry for your loss.”

      His words tugged something in her middle, a pang of sadness she didn’t know how to process. “Well, thank you…. I’m sorry for yours. It sounds like you two were really СКАЧАТЬ