Fifteen minutes before classes were scheduled to start, Knox came into his office without knocking and closed the door.
“What?”
“Please tell me that the hot f**king blonde out there applying for a job is one of the female black belt instructors you’ve been talking about hiring?”
Ronin shook his head. “I haven’t set up any interviews.”
“Maybe it’s our lucky day because she’s here for a job interview. Said you were expecting her.”
He rubbed his forehead. “No. Send her—”
“Jesus, man, don’t send her away. I’ll hire her for something.”
“I was going to say send her in, you f**king pervert.”
Almost as soon as Knox opened the door, a six-foot blond bombshell sashayed in wearing a low-cut shirt that showcased a big pair of tits that jiggled too perfectly to be fake. She offered her hand. “Ronin? I’m Katie Pettigrew Gardiner.”
This was TP’s daughter? He glanced at Knox—who had his gaze glued on this chick’s ass in her painted-on jeans. “Shihan, close the door on your way out.”
“Ah, sure.”
Ronin pointed at the chair across from the desk and didn’t take Katie’s hand. “I received your résumé. I intended to call you next week to set up an interview.”
“I couldn’t wait. I’m just so excited to be part of the team.” Her gaze encompassed the room and frowned. “Will my office be smaller than this one?”
“Ms. Gardiner. You need to take a step back.”
“Excuse me?”
“I haven’t hired you. And with the way you’ve shown up, assuming you’ve already got the job? I’m leaning toward ending this interview right now.”
Katie blinked with confusion. “But didn’t you talk to Daddy and come to an agreement about this?”
“No. I agreed to read your résumé and call you for an interview. That’s it. Unlike most people in this town, I do not jump through hoops for Thaddeus Pettigrew.”
“But you’ve had it since yesterday! I sent it by special courier.”
Was this woman for real?
Yes. She’s had the kind of spoiled upbringing your mother refused to give her children.
Ronin said a silent thank-you to his mother.
“Have you read my résumé?”
“I skimmed it.”
“And?” she demanded.
“You have zero experience for the position.” He paused. “You are aware of the job requirements?”
“I’d be heading up the Black and Blue promotional team for MMA events.”
Ronin flashed his teeth at her. “Wrong. You are applying for an entry-level position—a part-time position. Your main responsibility? Ring girl.”
Her jaw almost hit her cle**age. “Are you kidding me?”
“No. We’re hiring a ring girl, a gopher, and a lackey—all-in-one. Those would be your job duties and in that order, plus you’d be enrolled in classes and report to me.”
Katie’s eyes cooled. “My father knew this was the type of job after he spoke to you.”
“Yes. And you would’ve known it too if you would’ve waited for the callback. But since you’re here, and you’ve been apprised of what the job entails, I imagine you’re not interested?”
“Ring girl,” she muttered. “I should’ve known he’d pass me off as some brainless twit.” Determination shone on her face. “Of course I’d be happy to represent Black and Blue Promotions as ring girl. I’ll even fetch coffee and file.”
If she expected Ronin to backtrack, the girl was bound to be disappointed. “We’ll need help setting up the office next week. I’ll have to get back to you on specific times. Your classes here will be free. The job pays minimum wage for office work. The dollar amounts will vary for your work as ring girl, depending on sponsor commitments, size of the event, and the venue. Clothing is provided. Any questions?”
“Is my father paying you to hire me?”
“No. He is not paying your wages, either. If you take the job, you will have six months of job probation.”
“Which means you can fire me at will.”
“Yes. I’ll warn you—I’m demanding, and I will not treat you like a delicate flower. You’ll either bloom on your own or wither and die. Your choice.”
She looked confused—and maybe a little scared.
Good.
She rose to her feet. “Thank you for this opportunity, Ronin.”
“Not Ronin. Call me Mr. Black.”
“Absolutely, Mr. Black.” She stood and bowed with a flourish before she spun on her heel and exited the room.
His screaming headache had just gotten worse.
Normally he’d head to the workout room and pound on a speed bag, or a heavy bag, or a sparring opponent and give himself something else to focus on besides the pain. But that wasn’t an option, because he was heeding the doctor’s warnings. Ronin had to admit his body wasn’t fully healed. So he detoured to the Crow’s Nest to brood and pace. Up here, his anxiety would be hidden. Up here, he’d be spared from his instructors treating him with kid gloves.
Over the years, he’d packed his working hours with so much he had no idea what to do with himself when he had free time. So what had he done when he had free time? Started a new promotion company that occupied his every waking hour spent in the dojo so he didn’t have to worry that he’d finally irreparably damaged his body and he’d never bounce back to the man—to the fighter—he was.