I bit the inside of my cheek as I flattened my hand on my belly. My stomach churned like a washing machine. It had been that way since I got up. Running in the wind had been hard enough, but adding in the nausea and the lingering fatigue, I barely made it this morning.
Missing any time when I was only in my forth week at the academy was unacceptable. What I needed to do at lunch was swing by the Walgreens down the street and stock up on antiflu meds.
I was going to try to will myself into not being sick, I decided as I started working again. Mind over body and all that jazz.
My fingers stilled on the keyboard as I heard Rick’s high-pitched laugh and I gritted my teeth. As I focused on my screen, my cell phone buzzed from where I’d placed it under the monitor. My gaze flicked to it. It was a text, and there was a number in the little box above the message, one I didn’t recognize.
Hey.
That was all the text said. Frowning, I waited a few seconds, and when there wasn’t another message, I picked up my phone, and clicked on the text, then went to the add photo option. I scrolled until I found an image of a little girl glaring at the camera with a perfect what-the-hell expression on her little face. Grinning, I sent the picture back as my response and then placed the phone down.
Perfect timing, too, because I heard Mr. Bowser’s voice—er, Marcus. He’d insisted that I call him Marcus. Stretching up, I peered over my cubicle. My eyes widened. It was Marcus walking with Andrew Lima. The man who owned Lima Academy was shorter than me, but even though he was well into his fifties, the body under the shirt and nylon pants was that of twenty-year-old. He was smiling at something Marcus said, his teeth a brilliant white against skin that reminded me of sunbaked clay. The man was definitely handsome, even with the two cauliflower ears and the thin scar that ran across a nose that had obviously been broken a time or dozen. It was crazy—the older man probably knew exactly where to deliver a blow that would immobilize a person or worse in under a second.
My heart tripped up and the acid in my stomach started bubbling. I was nervous to meet my boss for the first time.
Andrew and Marcus also weren’t alone.
Beside Andrew Lima was the one and only Brock “the Beast” Mitchell. I knew this because it’s what his shirt said. Plus the guy was built. Not as overly done as Rick, but those shoulders could take down doors. He wore a dark blue baseball cap, twisted backward, but otherwise was dressed the same as Andrew Lima. His gaze was lowered as he walked along, trussing his right wrist with white hand wrap. I assumed they must be gearing up for training.
Brock glanced up at something Andrew said and his lips spread in a wide smile. His dark brown eyes were a deep, warm shade, and his features intense, almost perfectly asymmetrical. Wow. I’d seen pictures of Brock, but they hadn’t done him justice. I totally got why Katie said she’d have a landing strip just for him. The guy was gorgeous, almost too gorgeous to be putting that face in front of punches and kicks.
My phone buzzed again, but before I could glance down to check it out, Marcus was at my desk. Our eyes met, and I fixed a smile on my face as I rose, ignoring the nauseous tumble my stomach decided to take.
The group stopped and Marcus’s skin crinkled at his eyes as he gestured toward me. “Ah, Andrew, you haven’t had a chance to meet my new assistant. This is Stephanie.” Marcus angled his body toward them. “And this is Brock,” he said to me. “He just returned with Andrew.”
Don’t puke on the boss. Don’t puke on the boss. I extended my hand, and Mr. Lima’s handshake was firm and brief. “It’s nice to meet you.” Don’t puke on the hot martial-arts dude. Don’t puke on the hot martial-arts dude. I offered him my hand, too. “It’s nice to meet you also.”
Recognition flared in Brock’s brown eyes as he shook my hand with his left. “You’re the infamous Steph.”
I froze, having no idea what he was talking about. As my wide gaze swung to Marcus, I could feel the bile climbing up the back of my throat.
Marcus arched a brow.
Andrew chuckled as he leaned against my cubicle wall. “Infamous? This is a story I’ve got to hear.”
“I’ve heard that Stephanie schooled Nick over at Mona’s last week,” Brock explained, and there was a good chance my eyes were going to pop out of my head. “Brought him down a peg or two in front of everyone.”
Oh my God.
“Everyone has been talking about it,” Brock went on, much to my growing horror. “Jax gave me a blow-by-blow description on the phone the other night. Wished he had that on tape.”
As did Katie.
Andrew looked impressed as he eyed me. “I can only imagine what Nick did to warrant that.”
Would it look strange if I dived under my desk and hid?
“What has Nick been up to lately?” Andrew glanced at Brock, who was grinning like a madman. “He hasn’t been in the gym. I miss sparring with him.”
Nick sparred with Andrew Lima? Oh wow. That sort of explained how he was in the kind of shape he was.
“You miss kicking his ass,” Brock replied, chuckling as he started wrapping his left hand. “I don’t know.” Those dark lashes lifted and brown eyes pierced me. “I have a feeling we’re going to see more of Nick.”
Oh my word.
All I could do was smile weakly. My stomach had finally settled down, but now I felt out of it for a different reason. Never would I have ever thought that anything to do with Nick would somehow come up while at work. Without warning, Katie’s odd statement cycled through my thoughts.