“Want me to bring you something from the bar?”
“Can’t.”
“Right. You’re a week out from the fight. Bet you’re hungry too.”
Deacon’s gaze sought out Molly. “You have no idea.”
Riggins chuckled. “For food, horndog.”
I’d be just fine feasting on her for hours.
“You missed the run-through earlier.”
“Run-through. Like a . . . ?”
“Dress rehearsal for Ronin’s speech.”
“Yeah, sorry I missed that.” Not. He sighed. “Fill me in so I’m not up there scratching my balls, clueless about what’s what.”
Riggins went into a far deeper explanation about who was supposed to stand where and who was taking the mic and why than Deacon needed. When Deacon said as much, Riggins shrugged. “It’s my job to be a detailed-oriented guy.”
They watched as an agitated Beck approached them.
“What’s up?”
“My fucking blood pressure.”
“Why?”
“Sensei invited the candidates I’d suggested for new Black Arts instructors to come to the expo. They’re all here.”
“So? Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“I did not expect to be conducting interviews at fucking midnight tonight with zero advance notice,” Beck snapped.
Whoa. Zen-man had his gi in a knot. “That’s what Ronin asked you to do?”
“Ronin hinted at that. He didn’t come right out and say that’s what is gonna happen after this shindig. And now Sensei is surrounded, and I sure as hell won’t interrupt his leagues of admirers to get clarification.”
Deacon crossed his arms over his chest. “I know you were Black Arts’ Shihan before Knox, so you’ve dealt with Ronin’s you-ought-to-be-able-to-read-my-fucking-mind behavior before. Yes, he’s your boss and what he says goes. But call him on his shit, Beck, if you don’t agree with him.”
“Who’d you arrange to meet tonight before the last-minute interviews were hinted at?” Riggins asked.
Beck’s gaze moved to Riggins. “An old friend. But that’s not what this is about.”
“You sure?”
“No.” Beck ran his hand through his hair again. “Fuck. How’d you know?”
Riggins shrugged. “There seems to be all-around confusion on what this trip is really about. It’s business. Period. Interpersonal shit shouldn’t take priority. Knox and Shiori, Ronin and Amery, and I are the only ones who understand that.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Beck is pissed for having to back out of a hookup because Sensei needs him to do his job. You are eye-fucking Molly, and I expect to see you two sneaking off to a coat closet as soon as the speeches are done. Maddox is parading around with Presley, a chick half his age, to make his ex–old lady jealous—and I ain’t sure that’s not the only reason we’re here in LA. Jaz is hiding in her room like she’s afraid she’ll run into someone she knows. Then there’s Fee and Gil, who are constantly arguing about something that happened between them five years ago that has nothing to do with her ability to fight.”
“Wait. You speak Portuguese?” Beck said.
“Yeah. I also speak Russian. So I know that Max Stanislovsky lending Ivan the company plane had some strings attached. Haven’t you noticed both Ivan and Sergei have been on their phones nonstop? They’ll disappear as soon as this gig is over to do whatever Max asked them to.” He gave a head jerk to Katie. “Hot stuff over there is doing a great PR job, but she’s doing a piss-poor job ignoring Blue, since his whole purpose for being fawned over by female BJJ devotees is to get Katie’s attention. Zach and Jon-Dean are doing a stellar Beavis and Butt-head imitation as a couple of rubes in the big city. Then there’s Fisher and Blaze, who’ve already been suckered by the advances of the hot chicks I suspect are working for TGL to get the inside scoop on the Black Arts MMA program from the weakest links.”
Deacon and Beck both stared at Riggins with their mouths hanging open.
“What?”
“What is exactly right. Dude. In the last six months I’ve barely heard you string two sentences together. And then you rattle off all that like we’re idiots for not seeing it?”
“Well, you are. It’s really freakin’ obvious.”
Deacon got in Riggins’s face.
The man didn’t even blink. Or flinch.
“Who are you?”
“I’m a simple EMT who enjoys jujitsu and people watching.”