In Her Corner. Vicki Essex

guard, Kyle’s eyes had clouded as something like anger flashed through them. After the lesson, he’d become distant and hidden in his office the rest of the day. And he’d hardly said hello to her today. “Does anyone around here remember how to knock?” he grumbled.

      “I was thinking over the drills yesterday. I did something wrong, didn’t I?” She stepped farther into his office and gripped the back of the visitor’s chair.

      His gaze remained fixed on her, but she detected a slight twitch in his jaw. “You did fine. You just need practice.”

      “But—”

      “You did fine.” He sent her a half smile that did crazy things to her insides. “I know you’re eager to do more, and I think that’s great. Just keep conditioning. Joe’ll be in later. We’ll train then.”

      Bella left unsatisfied. She was used to getting a lot more feedback, but she reminded herself yet again that this was Payette’s, not her family studio.

      As the days went on, Kyle concentrated mainly on her takedowns and getting her opponent on the ground. There was a definite pattern to his coaching style, and it only got more intense as she drilled. His shouted instructions rang in her ears as she lay in bed, his demands that she move faster, watch her form and keep her guard up made her muscles twitch just as she thought she was drifting off to sleep. He was bent on perfection. And while she appreciated his tenacity, it made training tedious.

      She kept her mouth shut, though. She wasn’t about to jeopardize their tentative truce. This was what she’d come to New Orleans for, after all. Every day they worked together, she got another “fine.” Maybe it was all he was willing to give.

      At least her time as a trainer at Payette’s was proving successful. She’d made the classes she was teaching more challenging, and the students appreciated being pushed harder. Her reputation as fair, fun but hard-assed circulated, and a few of the bodybuilders who regularly pumped iron at Payette’s joined the classes. Kyle had been impressed and had rewarded her with a recruitment bonus.

      On Wednesday evenings, the students from the Touchstone youth center came for their weekly lesson. Shawnese had slowly warmed to Bella. She no longer glared as if everyone was out to get her and even worked with her fellow classmates without hesitation. Reta was ecstatic about how much she’d opened up since she’d started the self-defense class.

      It was the first week in November when Ryan showed up with a square-chinned, redheaded woman wearing an ill-cut burgundy pantsuit. She smiled broadly as she introduced herself. “Quinn Bourdain, Las Vegas Sun News. Ryan’s told me a lot about you, Ms. Fiore. I’m looking forward to interviewing you.”

      Bella kept her smile fixed, but she snagged her manager’s arm in a tight grip. “Um, Ryan, can I talk to you a minute?” She pulled him aside. Kyle hadn’t arrived yet, and she had no idea how he’d react to seeing him there. “What’s going on?”

      “I told you, this class for at-risk youth is PR gold. I invited Quinn here all the way from Vegas. She owes me a favor. She’s going to do a feature on you and this class you’re teaching.”

      “I’m not teaching this class. Kyle is. Anyway, I don’t think it’s such a good idea. These kids haven’t given their permission.”

      “We’re not filming them, and we don’t need their consent to observe. Anyhow, the article will be about you more than them. You know, local girl does good and breaks faces, too. That kind of stuff.”

      She shook her head. “I’m not local. And I’m not sure Kyle will approve.”

      “Approve of what?” Kyle asked as he walked into the gym. His entrance reminded Bella of a shark gliding through the water, deceptively innocuous and full of bloody intent. He looked down his nose. “Ryan.” The frost in his greeting crystalized in the air between them.

      Ryan smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just the man I wanted to see. Have you met Ms. Bourdain?” He explained the reason for Quinn’s presence. Kyle took it in, lips pursed.

      “I don’t know...” he began.

      “C’mon, Kyle. It’d be good publicity for Payette’s, not to mention Bella. You want to make sure you associate the gym with the future women’s champ, don’t you?” He clamped his hands over Bella’s shoulders, his thick fingers digging into her flesh. Ryan jerked his chin at the gathering of young people. “It’ll be good for them, too.”

      Kyle’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Ask Reta first. She’s the best judge of what’s good for these kids. Some of them might not appreciate being talked about.”

      “Quinn’s a top-notch journalist,” Ryan said dismissively. “She’d never exploit someone for a story. No one who isn’t asking for it, anyhow.”

      So Kyle grudgingly explained the situation to Reta, who had no problem with the reporter’s presence. Neither did the students—they seemed excited by the idea of being in the newspaper. Kyle started the class, and the students were extra attentive. To everyone’s surprise, Quinn changed into a T-shirt and trunks, took notes and snapped some pictures, before joining the class, too.

      Ryan left twenty minutes into the lesson. Apparently he had better things to do than sit around and watch a client spar with a bunch of kids. Admittedly, Bella breathed a little easier without the tension stretching between her agent and her trainer. She might have been a pugilist by trade, but she’d always hated emotional cold wars.

      As the class wrapped up and the kids went to get changed, Shawnese hung back. “Miss Bella, can I talk to you?”

      “What’s up, Shawnese?”

      She gripped her bony elbows and glanced around nervously. “I was wondering...” Her voice dropped. “Can you teach me how to stop a guy with a knife?”

      Bella sucked in her cheeks. “Um...I can. But it’s not easy. The best way to get out—”

      “Is to run away, yeah, so you guys keep saying. But sometimes you can’t, and I don’t want to turn my back on a knife, you know?”

      She scratched her hip, a little unsure of how to handle this. “Listen, knife fighting and evading knife attacks is really advanced. It’s not like the movies. I can’t teach you everything, and you know what they say about a little knowledge.”

      “I’m not trying to be Superman. Just teach me what you can.” Her voice quavered. She looked almost ready to bolt. Bella had a feeling that even if she asked, Shawnese would run away rather than explain herself. Bella couldn’t deny her request.

      She gave the girl a quick demonstration, using the lessons the students had already learned in class. The young woman took it all in calmly, following along as best as she could. She was by no means weak or small, but against a knife, all opponents, no matter how skilled, were at a disadvantage.

      “Shawnese, what are you doing?” Reta called from the doorway. “The bus is leaving soon. You should get changed.”

      Shawnese waved her fingers at her as she left, smiling weakly. Unease rolled through Bella’s stomach.

      “A little extra tutoring?” Quinn sidled up next to her, hefting her bag.

      “She’s a special case.”

      “Special how?”

      Bella hesitated. She wasn’t about to share Shawnese’s story with the reporter. “She just wanted a few tips.”

      “Well, forearmed is forewarned.”

      “I think it’s the other way around.”

      “Depends which side of the hurting you’re on,” Quinn replied grimly.

      Bella gave a wry smile. Maybe she should say something to Reta. She’d know how to handle Shawnese’s situation if there was one. Plus, it wasn’t really her business. She didn’t want to put her nose where it didn’t belong and risk losing the young woman’s