Abel (5th Street 4)
Minutes after that call, he got another from Felix. He’d just finished reading Nellie’s text letting him know she was on her way up, so he was in a much better mood when he took this call. “Hey, you here already?”
“No, but I’m there first thing tomorrow. I may not get to hang with you too much until after the fight,” Felix sounded upbeat. “I’ll be working. I’m covering your fight, man, on HBO.” Abel could hear the smile in Felix’s voice. “So how you feeling?”
“Good, I didn’t do any training today, but this past week was brutal, so both Gio and Noah agreed a day off would be good.”
“Was the airport crazy?”
“I wouldn’t know. I drove.”
“You drove? Why?”
“Because of just that.” Abel explained. “I’m not trying to walk through no crazy-ass mob at the airport. I drove here with Nellie, and we came up the back way through the private entrance.”
Felix was quiet for a moment, and then Abel heard what sounded like a soft chuckle. “You and Nellie? Noah mentioned that last time I was out there. But it’s just a fun thing and business, right? That’s what Noah said anyway.”
Annoyed that Noah was telling anyone his business, Abel frowned, sitting down in the big lounger in the front room of his suite. But he wasn’t keeping this a secret from anyone. “Yeah, she’s here with me, but, no, it’s not just business or a fun thing anymore. It’s official. I’m sure you’ll be hearing more about it after this weekend.”
Felix made a low whistling sound before speaking. “Damn, it’s like that, really?” Then he laughed. “What did Andy have to say about this?”
“Andy’s my publicist.” It annoyed him that Felix would even ask. “My personal life isn’t his business.”
“Are you kidding me? “Felix laughed even louder. “Everything about your life is Andy’s business because he’s your publicist. And let me tell you that he doesn’t much care for the wholesome tied-down-to-just-one-chick image for the fighters he represents, especially not the ones that are supposed to be bad asses like you and me. He says wholesome is boring and boring doesn’t make headlines. The more girls you’re seen with, the better.”
Abel thought about Andy’s comment last week: how he might want to be spotted with more than just one girl from the gym. Andy said since it was all bullshit anyway it would make it more exciting if he were seen with someone else besides Rachel. Abel hadn’t even bothered to respond to that, and he hoped that was answer enough on what he thought about that kind of publicity.
“Yeah, well, funny you’d bring him up. I just now got off the phone with him, and he did try to suggest that Nellie staying in the same room with me was not a good idea, but I made it clear what I thought of his suggestion, and that was that.”
He heard Felix take a drink of something then laugh again. “Well, a word of warning. Like the media, Andy is equally relentless. Don’t expect him to give up so easily.”
“I don’t have the patience you do, man.” Abel said, not at all worried that Andy would try to convince him of anything. “He should know that by now. So he better not expect me to put up with that bullshit.”
Thankfully, they moved on to another subject: Abel’s training and strategy for the fight. Felix gave him some pointers on things to ignore and things to pay attention to during a fight of this magnitude. “Whatever you do,” Felix warned, “do not let anything wreck the plan of action you’ve had for so long. You’ve never walked into a crowd this size, never seen those front rows filled with A-list celebrities and former champs—your heroes—there . . . watching you. The key is to concentrate. Don’t get too excited or let anything get in your head. Slow and steady. Fight smarter, not harder.”
Halfway through Felix’s call, Nellie walked in the room. She motioned that she’d was getting in the shower, something he’d already done, so he stayed on the phone with Felix a little longer. When he was finally off, he walked into the bedroom. Nellie was in her robe, looking through her suitcase with a towel still on her head. She glanced up, and he expected a smile; instead, she appeared nervous. That instantly alarmed him. “Something wrong?”
She shrugged but glanced back down into her suitcase in an obvious attempt to avoid eye contact. He started toward her slowly. “I ran into Sam downstairs.”
Abel stopped walking and waited for her to look up, but she didn’t. “How’d he know you were here?” The fact that she seemed to be stalling, possibly trying to come up with an acceptable answer and that she was still staring into her suitcase moving things around was beginning to worry him. “Look at me, Nellie.” She did, and he had to swallow hard to avoid snapping. “How does he know where you’re staying?”
“I told him.”
“Why?” Abel cleared his throat and tried to say that a bit calmer. “Why’d you tell him where you’re staying?”
“This was back when we’d discussed us both being in Vegas this weekend. It’s a common question. Really?” She went into character. “I’ll be there too. Where are you staying? So I told him.”
They’d talked about trust earlier and not jumping to conclusions or letting anything stupid come between them, so Abel struggled but managed to stay calm. “He came here looking for you?”