Sure enough, Angela was ready to go down to the gym at five thirty the next morning. In the T shirt and shorts I’d loaned her she looked good, if not nearly as Instagram-ready as she usually did while working out.
“Thanks again,” Angela said, indicating the loaned clothes. “And thanks for letting me stay at your place, and the advice. It may not mean all that much to you, but for me, you and Emmy have been life-savers.”
“Really, it’s no problem,” I said as we entered the elevator. “I’m just glad we could help.”
“I thought a lot about what you said last night, and, well, I think you’re right. I need to talk to Antonio. I’ll ask him if he really was dealing drugs, and depending on what he says, I have a decision to make.”
“I think that’s best. Remember, though, you need to do what’s best for you, and your own safety,” I said.
Just as Angela was about to reply, the elevator doors opened, so she kept whatever it was to herself for the moment.
Amusingly enough, I spotted Angela taking selfies several times during her workout, even though she wasn’t made up like usual and was wearing an outfit that was far from stylish.
I finished my workout, telling Angela I’d see her upstairs. I didn’t actually see her before I left for work, though, since her workout was so long. I’d been slacking since we moved to Los Angeles, really only putting in an hour a day in the building’s gym. The gym was good by your typical gym-goer’s standards, with enough treadmills, exercise bikes and so on, as well as a good selection of machines of various kinds. It even had a respectable free-weight section for the ‘hard core gym rats’ that used the place. What it didn’t have was any sort of fighting facilities, which I was coming to miss more and more. Angela staying in the gym really brought home how lazy I'd been getting.
Since it looked as if it would be six months at the very minimum until we could move into our new house, I thought it was time to follow up on that lead I’d gotten for a good fight gym in Santa Monica.
I stopped by the place on my way to work, figuring I’d give it a look and see if the place seemed worthwhile. As odd as it may seem, I actually found the grungy commercial location appealing, and liked the fenced-in parking lot in back. Whatever might await inside, the outside was far from pretentious. This wasn’t a yuppie gym like the one in my apartment building, or even worse, one of those MMA-bro wannabe fight gyms full of frat boys and guys that think they’re tough because they drive lifted Dodge trucks.
Walking in, the size of the place surprised me. It was way bigger than I’d thought from the street, and had quite a number of rings in addition to mats on a large part of the floor. The weights occupied one side, with only a few machines tucked off in one corner. Definitely not your big-chain fitness place, I was glad to see.
A guy approached me as I looked around. He was giving off a ‘what the hell are you doing here, Princess?’ vibe, but was polite enough when he said, “Welcome to Clancy’s. How can I help you?”
“I need to find a new gym,” I said. “The place I’ve been working out just isn’t, um, working out,” I said.
“As you can see, we really don’t have much of a selection of fitness machines,” he said, his voice apologetic, as he indicated the bare handful of Nautilus setups in the far corner.
It was obvious that he was put off by my designer skirt suit, and I understood it, even as much as I was both slightly irritated and amused by his assumptions.
“That’s perfectly fine,” I said. “What I really need is a place to train for fighting. I’ve heard you have some good trainers?”
“Uh, yeah, we do. I mean, that’s what we’re all about, right? But are you sure that’s what you want?” the guy asked.
“I’d been training with Ruben Da Silva up at The Pit in San Jose for the last three years, but now I’m here in Los Angeles I’ve just been using the gym in my apartment building to avoid losing any strength in the meanwhile until I find the right place.”
“Ruben Da Silva?” the guy asked, surprised. “You’ve been taking his classes?”
“No, not classes. Personal training,” I clarified. “So yeah, I need to find a guy I can work with here in LA. Someone like Ruben.”
“Um, we have a couple of guys who do private sessions,” the guy said. “Um, do you have a specific, uh, style? Like, Muay Thai or something like that?”
“How much do you know about Ruben?” I asked, stepping a bit closer to the guy and dropping my voice a little bit.
“Uh, well, I mean, I know he was Brazilian MMA champ for a few years, won a UFC title, stuff like that…”
“What I was working with Ruben for is vale tudo,” I said, looking him in the eye. “You know what that is?”
“Uh, sure, but… Why would you- I mean…” the guy said, clearly not knowing where to go with his question.
“I don’t fight in the ring,” I said.
The guy stepped back, taking another long look at me.
“This scar?” I said, pointing at my cheek. “Knife fight.”
“You’re pulling my leg,” the guy said, regaining his footing.
“Nope,” I said. “So I need a guy to train with that understands, um, my specific needs, technique-wise.”
The guy seemed to have come to the conclusion I was bullshitting him, so he said, “Look, why don’t you come back some time and spar with one of our coaches, and we can evaluate whether we can help you out or not.”
“When?”
“Uh, any time,” he answered. “We’ve got guys who can spar any time,” he said.
Thinking that if I just got over this hurdle and convinced this guy (and whoever else that mattered) that I was serious, maybe this gym might work for me, I said, “Look, I can blow off work this morning. Why don’t I go grab my gear and we can do it at, say, ten? That’s an hour and a half from now.”
“Yeah, sure, that would work,” the guy said, so I took one last look around and left. As I pulled out of the lot I saw the guy was eyeballing my car, so I gave him a friendly wave as I drove off.
Back at the apartment, I found Emmy listening to music and playing her guitar along with the tune.
“Is something wrong?” she asked. “Why are you home so early?”
“No, nothing’s wrong,” I said. “I stopped off at a new gym on the way to work, and thought the place had promise, so I’m going to grab my gear and go back to spar with one of the coaches to see if we can work together.”
“Really?” Emmy asked. “Would it be alright if I came to watch?”
“You want to watch?” I asked, surprised.
“I have never seen you fight,” Emmy said with a shrug.
“It won’t really be a fight,” I protested. “Just sparring to get a feel for each others’ abilities, that’s all.”
“Still, I would like to watch, if that is all right.”
“Sure, if you want,” I said, shrugging. I was a tiny bit concerned that the gym might have issues with spectators, but whatever. They were either going to accept it, or lose a lot of potential money, right?
I changed clothes and grabbed my gear bag, and by the time I made my way back out to the living room, Angela put in an appearance. She was wearing the same clothes as the day before, which I realized must be all she had to wear until she could get back into her condo and get her stuff.
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“Where are you going?” she asked, looking at the duffel bag.
“I’m going to try out a new gym today, so I came back to grab my stuff.”
“You're going to work out again?”
“Probably not a workout,” I answered while Emmy got ready to go. “Just gonna do some sparring with one of the trainers, to see if we can work together, that’s all.”
“Sparring? You box?” Angela asked, intrigued.
“Um, I do mixed martial arts,” I said.
“I am ready,” Emmy announced.
“Where are you going?” Angela asked Emmy.
“To watch Leah fight,” Emmy answered proudly.
“What time will you two be back?” Angela asked. “Let me grab my things.”
“You want to come along?” Emmy asked.
“Well, I thought that if you two weren’t home, I’d have to, um, not be here, you know?”
“No, it is O.K. if you stay here while we are gone,” Emmy said.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a problem.”
“No, it’s fine,” I said. “In fact, if it looks like you’re going to be here for a while, we should get you a key.”
“Seriously?" Angela asked. “You guys are so amazing!”
Pulling into the gym’s parking lot, Emmy said, “This place does not look very nice.”
“Nice isn’t what I’m looking for,” I said.
“No, I suppose not,” Emmy said.
As we walked in, the same guy approached. “Your name is Leah Farmer, right?” he asked.
“Yeah, that’s me,” I said.
“Yeah, well, I called and talked to Ruben at The Pit,” he said. “He said- well, he said to take you serious. We talked a bit, and I think maybe we don’t need this, um, tryout,” the guy said.
“Look, this goes both ways, right? You wanted to see if I was serious, and I want to be sure I could get good training here, so I say let’s do it anyway. I’m all dressed up and ready to dance, so let’s go ahead and get this party started.”
“Um, O.K.,” the guy said. Then, drawing in close so nobody else could hear, he said, “Keep it clean, all right? I don’t want anybody else here thinking we do anything outside of the usual MMA stuff, all right?”
“That’s cool, I understand,” I said. “Since this is just friendly sparring, headgear or no? I’m assuming you want us gloved up, right?”
“You train with Rubin bare-knuckle?” He asked, stunned.
“No, usually we wear grappling gloves, you know? But sometimes just wraps,” I assured the man.
“Fuck,” the guy said, shaking his head. “I’m not sure I want to know any of this. You’d better sign the release forms before you go any farther, though. In fact, sign it twice. Heck, maybe three times just to be sure.”
I laughed and said, “Point the way. And if you talked to Ruben, he probably told you we worked out before the gym opened in the morning, right? When nobody else was there?”
“Yeah, and I’m beginning to understand why,” the guy said, shaking his head. “Anyway, I think Jody is the guy you’ll want to work with. I talked to him about you, so he’ll be ready after his class ends in, um, ten minutes. Go ahead and get ready and warmed up, and I’ll have him find you when he’s done.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “So let’s get the paperwork done quickly so I can get to it.”
Maybe twenty minutes later the first guy found me stretching in the corner. “This is Jody. Jody, this is Leah. We’re gonna do a couple of rounds, just to, you know, figure out where we’re at and all that, right?”
I looked at Jody, evaluating him while he eyed me, doing the same. I had a few inches on him, but he was well-built, and maybe had a few pounds on me. He looked like a real fighter, with a nose that had obviously been broken more than once, and a hard look in his eyes.
“Eddie tells me you’re interested in some, uh, ‘special technique’ training,” Jody said.
I glanced around to make sure nobody else was close enough to hear, and said, “Yeah. Unsanctioned-style.”
“I have no idea why a rich chick like you would want to learn to fight, um, ‘unsanctioned-style’ fighting, but if that’s what you want, I can work with that.”
“I have my reasons,” I said.
“Good enough, I guess,” said Jody, shrugging. “All right- let’s see what you’ve got.”
Eddie led us to an empty ring off to one side, holding the ropes so we could enter. He then checked my gloves and headgear, making sure I was good to go. He inspected Jody’s gear, then said, “O.K. Here’s how it’s gonna be. You two are going to keep it clean, alright? No hitting below the belt, none of that shit. Other than that, it’s whatever works. We want to see what Leah can do, to see what level she’s at, but we don’t need any injuries. Got it?”
We both nodded that we did, so he said, “Touch gloves, then back into your corners. All right!” He said, clapping his hands together to signal the start.
I stepped in and laid a solid low kick on Jody’s right thigh, making it clear to him I had the reach advantage and was going to use it.
He answered with a left swing, stepping in to try to follow with a quick jab. I saw him coming and got in first, knocking him back with a strong left.
It went back and forth for a while, but it was quickly obvious that I had reach and speed on him, so Jody’s only real move was to either get inside, or grapple. Since I was showing that I could counter almost every strike of his, he did the inevitable and went for a takedown.
Now, this was the last thing I wanted to have happen, since I wasn’t all that great on the floor and with his strength advantage he’d have me tied into a knot in no time. I'd been able to read Jody’s moves since we began, and this was no different. I could see him coming in for the double leg takedown, and as he shot in I sprawled like a champ and got a couple of really solid undercuts in, knocking him down to his knees. I stepped back as he jumped back to his feet, laying a couple more low kicks in before he got his position set.
It went like this for a little longer before Jody stopped fighting like a wuss and began really putting some muscle into it. I’d known it was going to come eventually, but when he finally connected with a right hook with all his power behind it, it really rocked my world for a moment.
Using the mitigation trick that Grant had shown me, I flew to the left, trying to absorb and diminish the blow rather than counter it. Combining that with Ruben’s training, my right leg flew up in a capoeira-style roundhouse, taking Jody in the back of the head as I cartwheeled away.
Both of us momentarily dazed, Eddie stepped into the middle of the ring. “Alright!” he called out, holding his palms out to us. “That’s it!”
I shook out my neck and stepped forward, holding my fists out. Jody tapped gloves, and we climbed out of the ring to talk.
“That was amazing!” Emmy said, taking my headgear as I handed it to her. “I had no idea!”
“Thanks, babe,” I said. “But if that was a real fight, I’d have lost.”
“I am not so sure,” Emmy said. “I think if it was a real fight, you would have had him the first time you knocked him to his knees.”
“Maybe,” I said, doubtfully.
Jody and Eddie came over to talk, so Emmy stepped out of the way to give them room.
“Well, it’s obvious you’re a quality striker,” Jody began. “Since I never actually got a takedown, we don’t know how your grappling or wrestling are, though.”
“To be honest, I’m weakest on the floor,” I admitted. “So I do my best to avoid getting taken down.”
“So that’s something we can work on,” Jody said. “You’re clearly well-trained, you have incredible speed for someone so tall, and you aren’t shy about going for it. If you want, I can help you with your weaknesses, and maybe we can work on some of those special techniques we talked about before, if you still think this might work for you.”
“The only way you could do that is outside regular hours- you know that, Jody. I don’t want anybody hearing about it, either,” Eddie said.
“I could make it worth your time,” I said. “I’m an early riser, so we could maybe do three days a week before the gym opens?”
“The gym opens at six thirty weekdays,” Eddie said.
“How much would it cost me for it to open for me at five on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays?” I asked, and the two guys looked at each other.
“Hour and a half session, three days a week, at the ass-crack of dawn?" Jody asked. “I’d want a hundred fifty an hour.”
“Slip me a C note the mornings I let you in early, and it’s a done deal,” Eddie said.
“I’m O.K. with two hundred and twenty-five bucks per session, but it has to be worth the money. So we go straight into it, no fucking around with bag work, no games like that,” I said, looking Jody in the eye.
“Sounds good to me,” he said, already imagining what he’d spend nearly two grand a month on.
“Whatever you two do, it is none of my business, and has nothing to do with the gym, got that?” Eddie said, making sure he wanted his hands clean.
“All you have to do is open the door and turn on the lights,” I said, agreeing.
After a quick trip back home to shower and change, I made it to the office by noon.
“I thought you weren’t coming in today,” said Nash as he walked into my office and sat down.
“Yeah, sorry,” I said. “I had something I had to do this morning.”
“Hey, you’re the boss, you don’t have to check with me about your schedule.”
Laughing, I said, “I suppose I don’t.”
“Hey, did you get a chance to look over those three potential sites for the relo yet?”
“I’ve looked at the info you gave me, and drove by one of the properties,” I said. “I don’t think number two is right for us.”
“No, probably not,” Nash agreed. “It’d work for a while, but not really long-term. I still like the place in Westwood.”
“I’ll look at it sometime in the next couple of days,” I said.
“That’s all I ask,” Nash said, standing up. “Oh and that you and Emmy come over for dinner sometime soon. We’ve gotten settled in, and I’m dying to try out my new grill.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “Let me talk to Emmy and figure out when we can make it happen.”
After Nash left, Jake came in. “You up for a site inspection?”
Sighing, I said, “Not today, sorry. Since I came in late today, I need to make up for lost time on this,” I said, holding up the renovation plans for a twenty-two unit complex.
“Why are you even bothering with this?” Jake asked as he looked through the binder full of estimates and plans.
“It’s my job,” I said, shrugging.
“It shouldn’t be,” Jake said. “This is something that one of us managers should be handling. Whose is this, anyway?”
“It’s Tracy’s property,” I said. “Why?”
“She should be the one dealing with all this. If this was in my portfolio I wouldn’t have brought it to you unless there was some serious difficulty somewhere along the line.”
“Hmm…” I said. “How many renovations like this have you personally overseen?”
“This big? Maybe five in all my years here,” Jake admitted. “But it’s within my wheelhouse.”
“How big is your plate right now?” I asked.
“You want me to take this on?” He asked, surprised.
“If you can handle it.”
“Well, sure I can, but it’s Tracy’s,” he objected.
“Was.”
“She’s not gonna like that,” Jake said, clearly not wanting to ruffle any feathers within the office.
“Doesn’t matter, don’t care,” I said. “I’ll tell her right now, if you can take this off my plate.”
“Twenty-two units? She’s gonna screech. Maybe not at you, but I’ll hear it.”
“Let me take care of that,” I said.
"That's something I admire about you," Jake said. "You don't mind starting a fight."