"Thank you, Mike, I will. But I don't know why you think I'm lucky. Everything I get near is turning into a mess." I climbed into the seat next to Fenton and cradled his head in my lap.
"Honey, you climbed out of the basement of Ling Pho Lounge without a scratch on you. That's lucky." Mike jumped into the driver's seat. "I've heard they take women from the crowd and toss them into cat fights. You don't even have a hair out of place."
"I wish I could say the same for him," I said.
"Just banged up," the cab driver eyed Fenton through the rearview mirror. "Probably drank a lot, fought like an animal, and then crashed when the adrenaline ebbed."
Despite his optimistic prognosis, the cab driver flew through the Vegas traffic until he reached the driveway of the Tropicana. There, he slowed and pulled over on the street. "Looks like he's got other problems," the driver said.
Fenton Morris fans had converged at the entrance to the hotel. Women in tight, white t-shirts imprinted with his name bounced by. Large cardboard cutouts of his face covered in lipstick kisses bobbed above the crowd. Flashes went off like fireworks and multiple entertainment crews stood around with cameras and microphones ready. Word had spread that Fenton Morris was partying at the Tropicana and everyone wanted in on his no-holds barred fun.
"I'll never get him through that unnoticed," I said. "Is there a back way?"
>
"Stevie? This is Mike, yeah, I know it’s late, but I'm calling in a favor," the cab driver clutched his phone. "I got a high profile drop off and I need the loading dock at the Tropicana."
He pulled back out into traffic one-handed and kept talking as he steered around the giant casino and pulled up to a blocked entrance. Within minutes, he was thanking his friend and a uniformed guard unlocked the gate.
"I can let you in the back, no problem," the guard said.
"Thanks, man. I gotta leave the cab and help her up. Okay?"
The guard looked at me and nodded. "Service elevator goes all the way from the dock to the top floor. Opposite end, it's a long walk, but you'll miss the crowds."
We slung Fenton between us and he came to enough to shuffle along to the service elevator. When the doors closed, I asked, "How did he know I needed to get to the top floor on the other end?"
"You're staying in one of the big time suites. The entire hotel has seen your picture so they can cater to you. A little invasive if you ask me, but definitely a perk," Mike said.
We made it to my suite, and I unlocked the door. Fenton came to as Mike lowered him to the couch. "No hospital, I'm fine," he said.
"That's what I told her. Though if you don't start treating her right, I can assure you there'll be a tire iron in your future. Then, you'll need the hospital."
"Nice guy," Fenton commented as Mike left.
"Yeah, I'm lucky I got into his cab." I took off Fenton's hat and pushed him back down on the couch. "We're lucky. Now just relax for a while, recover."
I went to get ice and a wet washcloth and when I came back, Fenton scowled up at me. "How do you know those men from the bar are trying to fix my next fight?"
I sat down next to him and started swabbing away the dried blood. "I, um, may have followed them and watched them do it to another fighter. Some poor featherweight boxer over at the MGM Grand. They must have some pull because it was all out in the open and no one seemed to notice."
"Except you. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?" Fenton asked.
"More dangerous than letting one of them buy me a drink?" My joking tone was lost on him.
Fenton snatched the washcloth from me and sat up. "You have no idea, do you? You're just running around doing whatever you want, whatever you think will land you this deal, and you don't even care what danger you're stepping in."
I slammed the ice into a small towel and folded it up. "I don't care? What about you? You just up and decide to join an underground fight for a little cash? What about your career? Like it or not, you have people that care about you and what you do. Why would you do something like that?"
"For this," Fenton said. He pulled out the stack of cash and handed it to me.
I dropped the ice to the floor. "That is an insane amount. For one fight?"
"For one fight, just me. I needed it to pay for the private gym. You think I'd make Kev or my coach pay my way? I only switched gyms because the owner is in on the fix."
"I know you think you didn't have a choice, but you did. I could have helped you. I would have." I scooped up the ice and handed it to him. "I will, if you'll let me."
"And, I'm telling you I'm fine." Fenton took the ice, but stood up. "All your help comes with strings attached. You just want me to sign your endorsement deal, so you can go trotting back to Chicago, buy your little house, and live your comfortable life in your new office. I learned a long time ago not to lean on someone who has one foot out the door."