Free Below the Belt by Sarah Mayberry Page A

be, a part of that equation.
    “She’s looking good,” Arthur said when Cooper finally forced himself to cross the gym to check in on Jamie’s workout.
    “Yeah,” Cooper said, watching Jamie’s form as she went at the speedball.
    She staunchly ignored him. He didn’t force the issue. The old man slid a sideways look his way, sensing something was up. Cooper fought the urge to shuffle his feet.
    “She’s been working pretty hard. Wants to impress you,” Arthur said. “Even blew off her date last night so she could get up early and do some more roadwork.”
    Cooper tried not to let his interest show on his face. Jamie had had a date last night? He remembered her mentioning a ‘friend’ whom she planned to meet at nine after her workout. Only, according to Arthur, she hadn’t.
    Because of what had happened between them?
    “I’m already impressed. Jamie’s got a lot of natural talent,” he said.
    “It’s in the blood,” Arthur said. “She practically grew up in the ring.”
    “Yeah?” Cooper cocked his head, silently inviting more information. It hadn’t really occurred to him before, but Jamie never said much about her family or her life. He knew she worked as a maid at one of the big hotels in the city. He knew she lived with her grandfather. But that was pretty much it.
    Either Arthur didn’t pick up on his silent cue, or he was avoiding responding. Frowning, Cooper remembered that when he’d asked the old guy about his fighting record he’d clammed up, too.
    “So the whole family was involved in the sport, then?” Cooper asked.
    Arthur shoved his hands into the pockets of his Bermuda shorts and ducked his chin into his chest.
    “Yeah, guess you could say that,” he said. “Sure is hot outside, eh?”
    Cooper ignored the change of subject.
    “You never did say where you did most of your fighting, Arthur. By the looks of you I guess you were a heavyweight?” he asked.
    “For a while, but then I dropped down to cruiserweight. And mostly I fought in the States,” Arthur said. “They say there’s a cool front coming through tonight, did you hear?”
    “That’d put you over there when Ali and Frazier were around. You ever see the great man fight?” Cooper asked, genuinely interested. There wasn’t a fighter alive who didn’t admire Muhammad Ali and envy him his career.
    “ See him? Went seven rounds with him in Louisville, Kentucky, one time,” Arthur said, his eyes bright and his shoulders back as he puffed his chest out. “That man could move, let me tell you. Like poetry in motion.”
    Cooper narrowed his eyes. “You fought Muhammad Ali?”
    He wasn’t calling the old guy a liar, but he was pretty sure he’d never heard of an Arthur Holloway taking on Ali.
    Arthur blushed, the tide of color racing up from his collar ’til even the top of his head was pink. “Sparring match,” he said. “Just fooling around, you know.”
    “Right. Sure,” Cooper said.
    “Might go get myself some water,” Arthur said, heading for the front counter.
    Cooper stared after him. He felt embarrassed for the old guy. If a fighter was going to brag about a fight he never fought, he should know better than to pick the most famous boxer in history.
    When he brought his attention back to Jamie, she was watching him, her expression unreadable.
    “Feeling virtuous, Mr. Self-Control?” she asked after a few tense minutes of silence.
    “Ever heard of letting sleeping dogs lie?”
    “I don’t see what the big deal is,” she said. “I’m not into all that hearts and flowers crap, if that’s what you’re worried about. Love is for greeting card manufacturers, and I don’t ever want to get married and have kids, so that pretty much lets you off the hook on all fronts.”
    “Except professionally,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
    She took a few last shots at the speedball, her bottom lip decidedly pouty. She was sulking.
    Despite himself, he was flattered.
    “Hey, for all you know I