The Look of Love. Crystal B. Bright
with his other arm.
Gunnar squeezed and clamped his legs around Tony’s waist to keep the man still. Whenever Tony moved, Gunnar tightened his arms and legs around Tony’s neck and body.
For every match, Gunnar kept his mind focused on winning, on his next move. Now, his mind clouded over with thoughts of his mother. What would he and his brothers do if something happened to her?
Until he felt the referee tapping his shoulder, Gunnar didn’t realize that he had rendered Tony unconscious. He blinked and peered down at the person in his arms. Tony’s blood dripped from his forehead and nose and onto Gunnar’s arm.
“He tapped out, son. Release him.” The referee grabbed Gunnar’s arm and attempted to uncoil his hold on the limp body. “Stop fighting.”
Gunnar blinked and unraveled himself from Tony. He sprang to his feet and gazed down at his handiwork. Tony’s body lay motionless, curled in an unnatural position like a discarded marionette, as his trainers and handlers attempted to revive him.
Gunnar wanted to run from the ring, leave his belt, and get on a plane. He had to wait until Tony’s trainers revived him. In that time, he paced in the ring, waiting for his moment.
Once Tony rose to his feet, the referee raised Gunnar’s hand as the winner. A bit of relief washed over him. He’d finished work, and in record time. Now he had to go.
“Did you get her?” Gunnar asked as he climbed out of the ring and headed back to the dressing room.
He ignored the interviewers who shoved microphones into his face right after the match. From their grunts and groans, he knew they hated his silence.
“Are you kidding? You just did that match in about seven minutes. I barely had time to breathe let alone make calls for you.” Chuck ran alongside of Gunnar.
“Guns! Guns! Just a quick question.” An interviewer tried stopping Gunnar’s trek by stepping into his path. “That match seemed too easy for you. Are you ready for Seamus Flannery, the second-ranked contender?”
Gunnar didn’t answer. He stepped around the suited man and continued to his dressing room. If he didn’t have another man’s blood on him, he would have just thrown on some shoes and caught the next red-eye flight.
“You can’t just blow off journalists.” Chuck slammed the dressing-room door behind the two of them. “They can make or break your career.”
“They haven’t so far.” Gunnar stripped. “You talk for me. I’m going to Virginia.”
“Virginia? You can’t go right now. You need to start training for your match with Seamus.” Chuck started pacing.
Gunnar couldn’t think about how Chuck felt. As much as he loved his career, Gunnar loved his family even more. With the threat of losing his mother, he would brave going back home to be with her.
Until he saw his mother and could see that he’d overreacted to whatever he’d heard on the phone, he wouldn’t be able to rest. Then he would find out what woman had posed as his sister.
“What am I supposed to say as far as booking your next match?” Chuck asked.
Naked, Gunnar stood in the doorway leading to the bathroom to take a quick shower. “Tell them I’m going home.”
* * * *
Eboni Danielson stirred awake with a throbbing pain in her neck thanks to sleeping in a steel and barely padded hospital chair. She should have slept on the couch, but she’d wanted to be as close to her friend as possible. She blinked to get a sleeping Queen Elizabeth into focus.
Yesterday morning, when Elizabeth had fainted in Press ’N Curl, the hair salon Elizabeth owned where Eboni worked, Eboni had wasted no time getting her friend and mentor to the hospital. Ever the diva, Elizabeth had refused to go until her hair had been styled and her nails had received a fresh coat of deep red polish.
Elizabeth looked like she’d redone her makeup sometime during the night. Her light brown skin glowed, especially with the morning sunlight streaming through the hospital-room window. Bright red lipstick covered her lips. Even her fake eyelashes looked like they had been curled.
As a child, Eboni and her girlfriends had all wanted to grow up to be just like Miss Queen Elizabeth. Not only did the woman always look amazing and have the best clothes and cool shoes, she owned not one, not even two, but three businesses.
The hair salon, more than her flower shop and the clothing boutique, had the most customers in Eboni’s eyes, and the most buzz. Although she didn’t plan to work in a hair salon for the rest of her life, Eboni definitely wanted to be close to the woman who could guide her into being a success in business.
The morning Queen fainted, Eboni had planned on talking to her about doing a fund-raiser to help renovate the community center. Kids with nothing to do had a tendency of finding dangerous activities to pick up from other wayward souls. Eboni didn’t know how, but she knew she had to break the cycle.
A nurse walked into the room. “Ms. Sommerville, time to get your vitals.” She opened the blinds and allowed the February sun to stream through them. The morning rays reflected off the gleaming-white snow that covered the ground.
Eboni wrapped her camel-colored dress coat around her body. The businesslike apparel didn’t give her a cozy feeling like the poncho her grandmother had made for her. Appearances meant everything for Eboni.
Eboni remembered being a child and watching her grandmother knit the whole thing. She couldn’t wait until she got to a size to wear it. Of course, her grandmother made the garment large anticipating that Eboni would never lose that baby weight that plagued her for most of her youth.
She’d changed. Times had changed. Eboni had to give up childhood fantasies, including finding that one true love. Seeing Elizabeth in a hospital bed made everything real.
“Do you have to wake her now?” Eboni rubbed her eyes. “She just got to sleep.”
The nurse glanced down at Elizabeth’s face and chuckled. “Is she going to an opera later? When did she put on all this makeup?”
“She can hear everything you’re saying.” Elizabeth opened her eyes and glared at the nurse before cutting her gaze over to Eboni.
“Darling, you didn’t have to sleep in that awful chair.” She shook her head.
“I didn’t want to leave you alone.” Eboni stretched her arms over her head attempting to relieve some of the ache in her neck. “Besides, I would have slept on the floor if I had to.”
Elizabeth smiled, showing off an impressive set of straight, white teeth. “You’re silly. The staff here would have taken care of me just fine.” She finally turned her smile to the nurse who had already placed a black cuff around her arm and pumped away to get her blood pressure.
As the nurse allowed the blood pressure cuff to hiss out the air she’d pumped into it, she said, “A very loud and angry man called the desk for you last night.” She removed the stethoscope from her ears. “He claimed that this woman is not your daughter.” She glanced at Eboni.
Eboni swallowed but continued returning the nurse’s stare, hoping to convince her of the lie Queen had told. Eboni hadn’t corrected her. In a lot of ways, she did feel like she belonged in Queen’s family.
“That’s ridiculous,” Queen said when she no longer had a thermometer in her mouth. “This beautiful young woman is as much as my child as my sons are.”
Eboni smiled. She stood from her chair and held her friend’s hand. The warmth of it as well as Elizabeth’s words hugged her heart.
“Did you already pick your breakfast items today?” The nurse held up a menu.
“Yes. The lovely woman from food services got my order about an hour ago.”
The nurse nodded and exited the room, partially closing the door behind