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In the Ring: A Dario Caivano Novel Page 6


  “Yeah, I heard you. Thank you. A lesser person would still be checking to see if their car is really okay and might even be claiming whiplash right about now. So thank you. I really appreciate your honesty.”

  “No problem. Now, let me follow you home.”

  “That’s not necess—”

  “I’m following you home. You seem shaken and I just want to make sure—”

  “It’s really not—”

  “Were you headed home?” I pressed, not about to take no for an answer.

  After a lengthy pause she smiled at me and offered, “Yes, that’s where I was headed.”

  I walked past her and to her driver’s side door, opening it for her. “Come on.”

  ~*~*~

  Twenty minutes later when we arrived at Chanel’s front door, I stayed inside my truck. My goal was really just to make sure she made it home in one piece. Even though I had just met her, it wasn’t hard to tell that she had deep shit on her mind and that whatever it was, in some way, contributed to her running into the back of my truck. I was sure she was going to wave me off and head inside, but instead I was met with the unexpected when she began the short trek toward me.

  I’d gotten a view before, but today she was more casually decked. I swear this woman can probably wear any damn thing and look like she should be in magazines. Her hair was braided into two braids that hung freely outside of her cap. She had on some of those legging things that the women wear. And unlike some women who had zero business even sliding as much as an ankle into a pair, Chanel made them look hot. It was like the moment she put them on their sole purpose was to conform to her curves. I couldn’t help but shift my eyes to her modest thigh gap. It was an invitation to a place that I’d happily accept if offered. Something told me that she had something nice and sweet to offer down there.

  “Hi again,” she said, leaning against the side of my truck and leering inside the passenger side window. When she smiled, it was contagious and I found myself smiling right back at her. She had seemed so tough in our previous encounter, but now I was seeing a softer, more vulnerable side to her.

  “Hi yourself,” I greeted her in return. “You feeling better?”

  “A little,” she said alongside an affirming nod. “Thank you for following me home. You know I’m embarrassed, right?”

  I knew what she meant, but I decided to feign ignorance. “About what?”

  “Well, here you are, yet again, looking out for me when I acted so rudely toward you earlier.”

  “I’m a good guy; what can I say?”

  She started to laugh a little. “You’re a conceited guy, and I mean that in a nice way.”

  “Nice? There’s never a nice way to call someone conceited, Chanel.”

  “Uh-huh. Yes, there is. See, I think you’re a good guy, but I do think that since you have women falling at your feet twenty-four-seven and three-hundred-sixty-five, that you see us all that way.”

  “Nah. I absolutely do not. Wanna know what I think?”

  “Sure. Shoot.”

  “I think that when you give yourself permission to relax a little bit, you’ll know how to identify a joke when you hear one.”

  “Ohhh, so you were kidding, then?”

  “Absolutely. I just wanted to make you laugh a bit after a rough night with your stalker, but instead you drove off and left me standing there.”

  Her bright eyes widened, and she hunched her shoulders innocently. “My bad.”

  “Yep . . . your bad.” I started to laugh. “But I know you’re a good girl though, so all is forgiven.”

  “Thank you. Forgiveness is good.”

  “I agree.”

  “So now that we got that out of the way, I wanted to say that I was a little rattled back at the accident, so I really do thank you for caring.”

  “No thanks needed. Glad I could be there . . . again.”

  She chuckled. “Yeah, me too. I’m just glad I don’t have two damaged cars to pay for.”

  “Luckily, your damages are minimal so don’t let them overcharge you. That’s not an expensive fix, from what I saw. If need be, I’ll go with you when you go.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I can do one better and put you in touch with someone that I know.”

  “That would be great. I’d really appreciate that.”

  “See, athletes are good for something, wouldn’t ya say?”

  “Ohh, you’re gonna hold that against me, huh?” she kidded.

  “Not forever.”

  “Well, that’s good to know.”

  “Just until you agree to go to dinner with me.”

  Bashfulness settled inside her eyes and she lowered them briefly. When she looked back up, her smile was back in place. She bit down on the meat of her lower lip, probably not even on purpose but it made me want to suck on it once she was done.

  “You know, it’s the least I can do after driving off in your face the other day, all rude and everything. Only to turn around and crash into the back of your nice truck and then have you be nice enough to follow me home to make sure I was okay, and to be nice enough to hook me up with a fixer that's gonna make my baby perfect again.”

  “Yeah, hearing you put it like that . . . I guess it is the least you can do.” She shot me a spicy look, with her cute lips turned up at the edges. “Well, what can I say? You have a way with words that brings it all full circle."

  “Ha, ha, ha. Well, I'm happy to accept your invitation and will be looking forward to our dinner date.”

  “Cool. Is tonight good?”

  “Not tonight. I usually don’t do outings during the week.” She paused briefly. “I’m a mom. So the weekdays are reserved for my son. You know, homework, ‘me and him’ time, talking about his day and all that good stuff. By the time he turns in, I’m right behind him.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I was caught off guard, I won’t lie. I had only ever encountered one woman with a child, and I didn’t entertain that type of situation past casual fucks. It just seemed too complicated. But Chanel, for some reason, had me curious beyond her status of being a single mother—if she was indeed single. I thought back to the guy that she didn’t want to talk to the other night. “So, the guy from the other night . . .”

  “No. He’s not and we’re not.”

  “Well, in that case, I’m looking forward to dinner and getting to know you better, Chanel Norwood.”

  “Same here, Dario “DC” Caivano.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Dario

  “Whoa! DC! For real?!” he shouted. “Dang! My mom told me that she met you, but daaang!”

  I was met with a kid that stood about a foot shorter than me—tall for twelve years old. He was a handsome guy with a tone shades lighter than his mother’s, and green eyes that were so dull they almost looked grey. The kid was nice looking, but then again so was his mother, so no surprises there.

  I wanted to laugh at his fanning out, but I wouldn’t dare. I wouldn’t want him to think that it was anything other than flattering that brought about that reaction. I extended my hand to him. “You must be Rai.”

  Instead of shaking my hand, he extended his fist for me to pound. “Yeah,” he nodded, excitedly. “That’s me. Come in,” he offered, stepping aside and holding one side of the double doors wide open, allowing me to step into the foyer. As he led me down a long hallway to the living area, he turned around periodically. “I saw your last fight against Noah Lewis! You pounded that fool!” he exclaimed.

  Now, it was time to release the light guffaw I was concealing. “You like boxing?” I asked.

  “Do I! Heck yeah! That’s like my favorite sport of all! I thought you were gonna floor him way before the sixth round! It was like you were playing with him, like he was your prey or something! You were just trying to give the viewers their money’s worth, huh? You can tell me! I won’t tell anybody! I still can’t even believe that you’re in my house, though!”

  I laughed out loud as Rai gave me permission to
have a seat on one of the sofas, then took a seat a few chairs over from me. “I see we’re gonna have to get you to a match or two.”

  “Legit?!”

  “Yeah. If it’d be okay with your mom. I could for sure arrange it. My next fight isn’t for a while, but we could see. And maybe even get you to some other fights in the meantime. Who else do you like?”

  “I like Floyd Mayweather. He’s gonna be fighting Pacquiao this year.”

  “Yep, May 2nd, I believe. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Oh my God! No way! It has to be sold out already!”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” I reiterated.

  “Wowww. That’ll be cool! My mom usually lets me do Pay-per-view for your fights and Floyd’s so even if she says no, I still get front row seats in front of the big screen,” he chuckled.

  “Cool, cool . . .” I said, feeling humbled that he put me in such high regard.

  Feeling comfortable, I leaned back into the plush foam of the sofa. I ran my palms down my thighs as I began to sink further into relaxation. Conversation had died down between us and so the room had quieted, but I could feel Rai still watching me in between texting something on his cell. It was as though he was studying me. But it didn’t bother me too much because if I had a mother that looked like Chanel, I’d probably do the same.

  “My mom’s still getting dressed for you guys’ date,” he informed me after a few moments of silence. “Where you taking her?”

  “We’re going for Puerto Rican food over in San Rafael.”

  He nodded his head slightly before setting his phone aside. “You think that’s a good idea?”

  I almost laughed out loud at this young person with the big personality. He had a lot of character, that’s for sure. It was also apparent that talking about sports and his mom were two very different topics of interest. “I actually do think it’s a good idea. The food is very good. Your mom likes good food, right?”

  “Yeah, she does, but I mean it’s kinda heavy.”

  “Hello . . .” I heard suddenly, coming from the far end of the living room. I looked up to see Chanel approaching. She wore an all-white dress that stopped just below the knees. Even in the distance, the sway of her hips, complemented by her hourglass figure came into full view. The woman was perfection to look at. I hadn’t met her mind in its entirety yet, but if it was anything like the rest, it would be so refreshing to have the full package.

  She had a small turquoise clutch purse, gripped tightly in her hands and the high heels she wore matched perfectly. All her accessories were diamonds, and her hair was pulled high on top of her head in one of those messy buns. She was a perfectly assembled package. I stood to greet her when she reached the area where her son and I sat. I couldn’t help but smile taking her in.

  “You look very nice,” I complimented.

  “Thank you, Dario, so do you.” She then turned to look at her son. “Rai, Puerto Rican food is just fine,” she giggled. “I just saw Nicholas and Amy pull up outside for you, so get your jacket. Come here and give me a kiss so I can get going.”

  Rai looked from me and then back to his mother, appearing slightly embarrassed. “Ma!” he groaned.

  “Bring it here,” she insisted.

  “Alright . . .” he surrendered, walking toward her to kiss and embrace her.

  CHAPTER 13

  Dario

  “So, Rai is one bad kid,” I acknowledged after we placed orders for our food. “He went from super fan to man of the house in a matter of minutes.”

  “Yeah, that’s him,” Chanel admitted. “He’s fiercely protective.”

  “That’s good. It’ll intensify as he gets older. And he’s supposed to be like that about his mother. I’d be the same way in his shoes.”

  “Well, sometimes he acts more like he’s the boss of me than the other way around.”

  “I could definitely see that. He seems like a really good kid, though.”

  “Oh, he’s such a good kid. I don’t know what, who, or even where I’d be without him. I swear he came into my life and made me want to be the best of myself. It was like I got to be right there and watch myself be reborn all over again, just with a new outlook on life and ready to be the me that I was put on earth to be.”

  “That’s so profound. They say there’s no relationship like mother and son. I can see how that’s true with the two of you.”

  “Thank you. How are you and your mother?”

  “Oh, we’re good. Nothing at all against my mother. I love her with everything in me. She was more of the bake the cookies for kindergarten, but don’t show up for the actual party, mom. She did the bare minimum—but with a lot of love. It was almost like she was a constant chase for her youth or something. But she married my father young, so she might’ve felt like that. You know?”

  “Yeah, but . . .”

  “But what? It’s okay to ask.”

  “How did it make you feel for her to be like that? Because it’s obvious that you were aware of it, even as a kid.”

  “Oh yeah, I was aware of it. But it was cool because I never lacked love. I knew she loved me and I had so many in my family that it was almost like I had surrogate moms. Italian families are pretty big and affectionate. My mom is from the Russian side of things, so she’s set up a bit differently. At least I’m guessing, because I don’t really know her side—aside from my aunt, her sister.”

  “Wow. Okay, well at least you felt love because that’s important. I’d die if my son ever felt that he lacked any kind of love from me. That would kill me.”

  “I don’t think that could ever be a problem. And I have a feeling, just seeing how close you guys are, that it’s been like that his whole life.”

  “Pretty much,” she giggled.

  “Where is his . . . dad?”

  “Not in the picture. Never in the picture.”

  “Never in the picture? What does that mean? Don’t tell me that he was a fucking deadbeat and abandoned you guys.”

  “No. It wasn’t like that. I was young . . . it was just . . . not really a situation. I was . . . engaging in reckless sex and Rai was the result of that. No regrets here, though. If you’re going to be irresponsible, one of him is the most beautiful thing you can get from it. So, I don’t even give that part of my past a second thought.”

  “Has he ever tried to reach out to Rai? I mean, yeah, it was a situation where the two of you weren’t together, but that shouldn’t let him off the hook from taking care of his kid.”

  “Dario, I appreciate your concern,” she said, taking to picking through her food. “But . . .” She shrugged. “It’s a non-issue. Rai is fine. I’ve done my best at making sure that he has positive male role models in his life, and—”

  “Hold on, sweetheart. Please know that I’m not questioning your abilities as a mother. I’ve only ever seen you with your son once, and I already know that you’re doing a damn good job. I guess my line of questioning was intrusive. Please accept my apologies.”

  “It’s okay. I get it. I’m sorry for going on the defensive.”

  “You don’t have to be sorry for that.” And then realizing that I’d potentially made a situation awkward, I decided to change the subject. “How about dessert?” I asked her. “You up for that? If not, you think there’s something on the menu that Rai might want?”

  She smiled. “That’s so sweet. Maybe I’ll take him some pudin de pina.”

  “I’ve had that. It’s pretty good bread pudding. Just don’t forget to make sure you tell him about your plantain-fried prawns, rice, beans, and salad meal so that he can feel good knowing that I didn’t overstuff his mom.”

  “That is funny,” she smiled. “I’ll be sure to tell him just the opposite,” she said, bursting into laughter.

  CHAPTER 14

  Dario

  By the time we’d finished our meals, conversation was flowing in all kinds of directions from family, to our favorite television shows, to my dog, Lennox. The restaurant’s ambiance
was still very much alive, which was a good thing, because I wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. I was enjoying her company too much.

  “So, tell me, Mr. Caivano. Did you bring me here to this quaint little place, with the best ponche that I’ve ever had, so that you wouldn’t run into any of your women? Or was this really a specially thought out evening just for me?”

  “It was specially thought out just for you,” I replied without hesitation. “I purposely didn’t take you anywhere that had alcohol. I wanted us to have straight-no-chaser talk. No holds barred and liquid courage tends to mess that up a bit.”

  “Ohhh, so you think I may be a closet alky or something?”

  “Not at all,” I laughed. “I’ll gladly take you somewhere with champagne and wine and all that good stuff when we leave here if you’d like . . . or on the next date,” I hinted.

  “That was smooth,” she smiled. “Real smooth.”

  “What? I just offered to keep the date going a little longer . . . or to pick it up on a part two . . . at a later date.”

  “Mmm-hmm. I heard all of that.”

  “And your response is?”

  “Well, going to another place for drinks I’ll pass on because since you’re our designated driver, I’d be drinking alone. No thanks.”

  “Which leaves date number two.”

  “So, that’s the setup, huh? Man, if you don’t have some serious game!” she laughed. “All that athlete swag you have going on.”

  I pushed my plate to the side and leaned forward to look deep into her eyes. “Tell me your reservation about athletes, Chanel.”

  She sighed and began lightly tapping the side of her glass with a clear coated fingernail. “My reservation is just . . .” She hunched her shoulders slowly, then relaxed them at the same pace. “I just had one too many and know the lifestyle. That’s all. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t think all athletes are bad, I just think they’re worse with handling temptation, than the average man. But you know, I guess I get it. Y’all have women who want you just because of your names, and are willing to do whatever it takes to get just a second of your time. That’s serious business.”