Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
The guy shrugged. “I’m just kicking back tonight, supporting my training partner, Jason Kinney. Plus, my next match is against Davi Matos, one of the fighters here tonight.” For a moment he looked uncomfortable, as if he had said something he shouldn’t. “Uh, I maybe fighting him. I’m not sure yet. Anyway, it’s good to get in close to the action, see what a guy is made of. You can’t really tell on TV, you know.”
I pulled out my cell phone, switched to video mode, and started filming his response.
“Is it that much different in person?” The other reporter leaned in closer, waiting for an answer that took a moment to come. “It seems like with the camera close-ups on TV, it would be the other way around.”
“It’s hard to explain.” The fighter paused, looking directly at me for the first time since I’d arrived. “There’s a feeling you get when you’re close to something. Seeing it right in front of your face takes it to a whole different level. You can feel the fear and the excitement, the rush of adrenaline, smell the sweat, hear the force of the blows and the snap of bone. You can tell if someone’s confident or if they’re scared shitless.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the ladies wrinkle their noses at his raw choice of words, but I stepped in closer, mesmerized. This was exactly the kind of thing I wanted to hear. I repositioned my phone slightly to get a better angle on the fighter.
“What’s your name?” he asked me, and he may as well have focused a spotlight on me.
I laughed nervously and called on my keen wit to rescue me. “I thought I was supposed to be asking the questions.”
Yeah. Nothing keen or witty about that.
As his face hardened slightly and the others glared at me, I rushed to make amends. “Jamie Atwood,” I said. “That’s my name.”
I figured I might as well just turn around and leave right then, because I’d clearly botched the whole interview thing, but he graciously stuck out his right hand. He didn’t smile, but at least he wasn’t walking away or knocking me out. “I’m Michael Kage,” he said. “You can just call me Kage. Who do you work for?”
“Work for?” I asked stupidly, snorting out a laugh that would have sounded more appropriate at a Star Trek convention than a fight. My skin felt clammy against his warm, dry palm as we shook hands.
“I mean who are you reporting for?” he reached out and tugged gently on the press pass hanging around my neck.
It may sound strange, but when he reached out for me like that, I felt the heat of a flush creep across my face. It reminded me of high school, when the hot senior guys would talk to the freshman girls, making them giggle and blush from nothing more than a simple touch. In other words, this Kage guy must have been made of 100% testosterone, because he had succeeded in making me blush like a schoolgirl.
“Oh, who am I reporting for. Right. I’m here on behalf of Georgia State University.” I started babbling like a jackass, telling shit I had no business telling, digging myself in deeper with every word that came out of my mouth. “Actually, I’m not a real reporter yet. In fact, I probably won’t be a reporter at all. I’m actually not here in an official capacity, I guess.” Insert awkward laugh. “I mean, I am, but it’s just for a school project. I’m a journalism major, but what I really hope to be is a publicist.”
“Yeah? What all does a publicist do, besides sending out press kits and shit like that?”
It was impossible to tell if Kage was being condescending, or if he was truly interested in the job description of a publicist. He might have been wearing a killer suit, but the rough edges of the guy were still clearly visible. He smirked at me, daring me to impress him.
And I wanted to.
“Well, Mr. Kage, I suppose we do whatever needs doing to make sure that a client is well-known and well-liked. Good publicists are story-spinners and star-makers, but bad ones… Let’s just say a publicist can make or break a career, no matter what the client has done.”
I don’t know where those pretentious words came from. It was as if I were suddenly playing a role, and my character knew a heck of a lot more about being a publicist than I did. It must have sounded good, though, because Kage took the bait.
He raised his eyebrows. “And you know how to do all of that?”
“Of course.” I gave him a cocky grin, his apparent interest giving me way more confidence than I had any right to have. “It’s my specialty.”