uneven coat, and it was

driving me nuts.

“Holly, stop,” I said and inched closer to her. “You have to paint slowly and

gently. Otherwise, it will dry unevenly. Watch how I do it.”

I took her brush from her hand, dipped it back into the bottle, and easily laid a

perfect coat over her pinky fingernail without adding to the dried polish on her

skin.

“See?”

“Wow, that looks great,” she beamed, her eyes examining her hand. “Hey,

maybe you could do the rest!” she suggested.

I pursed my lips. Dammit, how did I get sucked into that?

“Sure, but I’ll have to start over. No offense but your base coat looks like shit.”

Son of a fuck, was I really talking about nail polish right now? Ugh!

As I removed the shitty coats of polish from her nails, I found myself getting

more and more irritated with the stupid romantic comedy that Holly kept laughing

at.

“Okay. I’m sorry, but I can’t take this anymore,” I said, reaching for the remote

and searching through the TV options for the sports channel. “If you really want to

pique my entertainment, you’ve got to walk in my neighborhood.”

Eventually, I finally found what I was looking forUFC title fights. Holly

gasped.

“You enjoy this barbaric nonsense?” Holly asked in shock. I laughed.

“It’s not barbaric, Holly. It’s a competitive sport. It’s not like they’re gladiators

who are forced to fight, you know.”

“Yeah, but it’s just so … dangerous.” She wore a look of near disgust on her face.

“So is driving. Imagine if you had a skill, Holly, something you were really good

at, but you had no way of really putting that skill to use, no way to really benefit

from it unless certain circumstances finally presented themselves. That’s how it is

for these fighters. They have so much skill, but no one to use it on unless someone

attacks them. The cage is their way of proving to themselves that their talents are

worth something.”

“Hmmm …” murmured Holly. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Exactly, now watch because this shit … is awesome.”

W hat a fucking day. After re-negotiating two shipment contracts with the

Cubans and a heated debate with the Jamaicans about the best water routes to

take for drop-offs, I’d had more than enough bullshit for the day. At least our

profits had been through the roof for this past month thanks to the nice little

report I got from Ron this morning. I was on my way to my office when I heard

female shouting coming from the entertainment room.

“Hit ‘em! Hit ‘em! What the hell are you doing?! Move!” I heard Jaden’s voice

loud and clear and headed over to the entertainment room to find out what she was

doing. I found Hank and Preston standing beside the doorway watching Jaden cheer

on some MMA match on TV.

“What the fuck is she watching?” I asked Hank.

Hank cleared his throat nervously. “Uh, UFC, sir,” he said with a nod. I almost

laughed.

“Watch, watch, watch,” Jaden said to Holly as she pointed at the TV. “Watch

this kick … boom! Now, that’s talent. Tornado kicks are tough to pull off in the

octagon.”

“Wow, you seem to know an awful lot about this stuff,” beamed Holly.

Jaden shrugged, her focus moving to Holly’s hand as she began painting what

looked like a second coat onto her nails. I thought I was hallucinating for a second.

Was Jaden actually painting another girl’s nails?

“Having fun in here?” I asked aloud as I rounded the couch. Both their eyes

snapped up to me in surprise at the announcement of my arrival.

“Mr. Davis,” Holly piped up, while Jaden eyes remained on me as I moved to sit

down next to her. “Yes, Jaden and I were just watching some old UFC title fights.”

“Really,” I said, my eyes never leaving Jaden’s. “And are you enjoying the

fights?”

“Oh, yes. Very interesting,” Holly replied, that stupid smile never leaving her

face. “Jaden’s been explaining all the rules of the sport and the moves and

techniques of the fighters. She knows her stuff,” she said proudly.

I smirked. She had better know her stuff.

When Jaden made no comment, I looked down at her hands to notice the bright

light pink color she had chosen for herself.

“Pink?” I asked her with a soft smile.

She gave me a smirk. “You’re welcome.”

Well, now that was surprising.

“I like it. You were right in your ability to do your own nails.”

“I still like Anya and Irina,” she said quickly, her eyes turning up to mine, big

and hopeful. “I can’t do the acrylics like they can.”

I sneered at her. “Worried they might lose their value?”

Jaden formed her mouth into a tight line as she clenched her jaw. “Yes,” she

said sharply, glaring at me. So fucking cute.

I folded my

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