Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
What would it feel like to be recognized as his? For people to whisper, “That’s Michael Kage’s boyfriend.”
“You know, your boss is hot,” Farrah said, and I hid my shock behind a fake cough. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my boyfriend. But a girl can look, right? You don’t just go blind when you’re in a committed relationship. And that Michael Kage is something else. All the women are talking about him.”
“All the women? What women?” I demanded a little more forcefully than I’d intended.
“You know… the wives and girlfriends, the female fighters, the groupies. Don’t you ever read the blog comments? I follow those things religiously. YouTube comments, fan sites, social media stuff. You ought to tell him that. Tell him to go online and look at all the great things people are saying about him. But not the negative stuff. There are lots of haters. Trust me, every fighter has haters, and then they have their stalkers. I’m sure you guys will be figuring this stuff out for yourselves soon enough. In fact, as his assistant you probably ought to keep an eye on that stuff for him. Why don’t you go on Twitter right now and follow the UFC?”
On the stage, some of the fighters had begun asking questions. Camera crews were filming. This was a big deal. Kage had not been asked anything yet, so he was just sitting there quietly, taking in every word around him in his calculating way. As for myself, I was pouting over Farrah’s words. I loved the fact that people admired Kage. How could they not? What I didn’t like was having to bite my tongue.
“Who does Kage’s tweets?” Farrah asked.
I shrugged. “I used to do a little bit of social media for him, but he has a PR team working on it now. I have no part of it.”
“Well you should at least follow him. And follow the UFC and some of the big blogs. They’re all tweeting about this event live right now. I have my notifications silenced right now, but I see them coming in.”
I pulled out my phone and logged on to Twitter. Of course, it was a new phone, so I had to install the app. Social media was pretty much a chore for me, but Farrah was right. I did need to keep an eye on what was being said, at least by the big people who mattered. And I definitely ought to watch what Kage’s PR team was saying on his behalf.
“Have you met his fiancé, Vanessa Hale?”
I turned and stared at Farrah, reminding myself that she was a perfectly nice girl, and that it wasn’t her fault that she didn’t know the real deal. She wasn’t making me feel like shit on purpose.
“I have indeed met the fabulous Miss Vanessa Hale,” I said, using vagueness as a shield. Kage had given me the impression that he wasn’t going to play along with the pretend engagement anymore, but we hadn’t actually discussed it in depth. I had no idea what his plan was, or how I should handle questions concerning Vanessa.
Farrah pelted me with questions. “Is she as gorgeous in person as she is in the Victoria’s Secret catalogs? I heard those girls look anorexic in person, because they have to lose ten extra pounds for the camera. Is that true?”
I sighed. “Actually, Vanessa is awesome. She’s got this down-to-earth vibe that’s really attractive.”
“Is that like saying a girl has a good personality?”
I frowned, not even bothering to hide my confusion. Because how the hell did she get that from what I said? “No, it’s not like that at all. In my opinion, her looks are even better than her personality. But I may be biased.”
“Of course, because you’re a guy. I guess that was a stupid question, anyway. Is she coming to the after-party?”
“The thing they’re having after the press conference is over. They’re setting it up down the hall in the ballroom.” She wagged her eyebrows. “It’s gonna be open bar.”
“Is that really a good idea? A room full of drunk fighters sounds a little like a 911 call in the making.”
“You may have a point.” She laughed. “But listen, I know you’re on the clock. Your boss keeps looking over here, and I don’t want to get you in trouble. Just put it all on me. Tell him I was bugging you.”
As she went back to wherever she had come from, I looked up to find Kage watching me. From Farrah’s comment, I’d expected him to look stern or angry, but he didn’t. He just looked curious, and beautiful in his untamed masculine way.
In the beginning of the conference, the interviewers seemed to be focused mostly on the Lightweight division, and that was a big yawn for me. I busied myself with the Twitter app, following people, setting up notifications for Kage-related hashtags, reading some of the tweets. The UFC had already tweeted a photo of the fighters sitting on the stage, and the accompanying comment read: “So much testosterone in one room. #ThisIsSparta.”