Fighting Chance

Chapter 1

Chapter One

The conference room was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop as everyone went around the table talking about their stories they were working on. It was an intense meeting each week as everyone pitched their ideas and waited for their boss to approve them or tear them a new one.

This week, she already knew she was in trouble. The story that she had was lame, but it was the only thing she’d come up with. Why in the world had anyone thought she’d be a good fit as a sports reporter?

Robert, her boss, called on her. “Kendall?”

“I’m following the trade deal on the Badgers.” Their local soccer team was trading a few players.

“No one cares. Come up with something better before tomorrow, or you’re fired. I’ve warned you too many times that you need hard-hitting articles, and I’m not going to do it again. Be in my office first thing in the morning with a better idea or a letter of resignation—you choose which,” he bellowed.

Robert didn’t speak, he only yelled. It was terrifying at first, and then you got used to it. He’d fire her though. She knew he was a lot of bluster sometimes, but this was serious. She had been told too many times.

He moved on to the next person and approved their article before the meeting was dismissed. Everyone quickly left the conference room, a few sending her sympathetic looks as they did.

She let herself be the last one out of the room, shutting her laptop and stacking her notebook on top before picking them up and heading for her small desk on the floor with everyone else.

“What are you going to do?” Sindee, her friend and lifestyle reporter, asked as she reached her desk.

“I have no idea. If I had a better story idea, I would have led with that.” She dropped her head into her hands as she sat. “I’m screwed.”

“You’ll come up with something.” She patted Kendall on the back before walking away.

“Gee, thanks,” she muttered.

Kendall drew herself up and took a fortifying breath before opening her computer. She did the same thing that she always did and scoured the internet for other sports articles, looking for anything that she might be able to use as an idea for something local.

They didn’t have many local teams, and their soccer team wasn’t wildly popular. Though, maybe if more people read about them, they’d grow more interested.

The local university was closed for the summer, as far as sports went, so there was nothing there. No one who went there wanted to talk to her anyway.

That was her other issue: so many men who didn’t want to talk to a female sports reporter. It wasn’t like she was clueless, but they all assumed she was, and she’d been told more than once not to worry her pretty little head over the men things.

That always pissed her off. Her phone rang, and she answered without looking who it was, welcoming the distraction.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey, Dad. What’s up?”

“How’s work?” He knew she’d been struggling.

“Not so great.”

“Well, let me take you to lunch and see what I can do to help,” he offered.

“I don’t think there’s much you can do to help, but I’ll let you buy me lunch because I’m about to lose my job and won’t have any money for food soon.” She was whining, and she knew it.

“Don’t talk like that. You know it will go better than you expect. I’ll see you at the pub at noon.”

“Thanks, Dad.” She ended the call and went back to her research. Maybe she should change her tactic and search small newspapers to see what they did instead of the big papers.

By the time she was due to leave for lunch, she’d gotten nowhere. The smaller newspapers were all doing the same types of stories as she was already doing, which wasn’t enough.

Kendall slid her laptop and notebook into her bag before taking a moment to let down her curly blonde hair from the bun she’d shoved it into earlier. She didn’t want to look a mess when she met with her dad even if her whole career was one.

The pub was a ten-minute walk from her office, so she left her car there and headed out on foot. She’d likely go home after lunch, but the walk would be good for counteracting all the fries she was about to eat.

Hoping the walk would also clear her head, she set out for the pub. Danny’s always had good food, and if she couldn’t get anything else right today, she could at least eat well.

“Kendall!” her dad yelled from across the pub when she entered.

She smiled and waved, used to his loud nature. He’d been the loudest person she’d known her whole life. There was no point being embarrassed by it anymore, since everyone in here knew him by name and that he was loud.

“Hey, Dad,” she said as she slid into the booth.

The pub was like a second home to her, and she smiled as she looked around. She waved at the people she knew as she took in the dark wood everywhere and all the sports photos and autographs on the wall.

It was an eclectic mix of all things sports. If there was a competition of any kind, they’d broadcast it here, bet on it, and get autographs from everyone involved, winners and losers both.

“I already put our order in.” He slid her soda across to her. “What’s going on with your job?”

She let her shoulders slump. “I can’t do anything right. Nothing I write about is good enough.”

“Your writing is damn good!” he defended her, ending his declaration with a thump on the table from his fist to drive his point home.

“The problem isn’t my writing skills, it’s my topics. They aren’t ‘hard-hitting’ enough for my boss, and unless I can come up with something better by tomorrow, then I’m out.” It hurt to even say it out loud.

“Nonsense. We’re fighters, you and I. You’ll come up with something,” he assured her.

Rich, her dad, had been a fighter, not her. He believed that because he was one of the best boxers during his time that his talent passed on to her. It hadn’t, sadly. She was in the corner here with no fancy moves to get out.

“I read your last article. It’s good work,” Grady, the owner, told her as he carried their food to the table.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, not wanting to even explain why he’d probably never read another one.

“Thanks, Grady. I’ll catch up with you in a few.”

“You got it, Rich. Let me know if you need anything.”

Her dad waited until Grady was out of earshot before he spoke again. “What if I could give you a story?”

“Like what?” she asked as she shoved fries into her mouth.

“First you have to promise not to be mad.” The serious look on his face told her she was definitely going to be mad.

“Explain.” She slid her plate away and listened.

“I’ve been coaching this fighter. He’s really good.”

“You’re supposed to be retired! Taking it easy, considering moving to Florida.” They’d been over this so many times. She knew he’d been up to something, but she didn’t think he’d been coaching.

Instantly on the defense, he held his hands up. “I’m not in the ring,” he assured her. “That’s not even the part you won’t like.”

Kendall arched a brow at him and waited for him to continue. Why couldn’t even lunch go right today?

“There’s an underground MMA ring, and there’s a fight tonight.”

“How underground?” She’d write about it, but she didn’t want to do anything that her dad would get in trouble for.

“It’s not illegal—it’s just not well known,” he said cautiously.

“So, if I wrote about it, would anyone get in trouble?” She was a terrible reporter. This was exactly the type of thing she needed to do to keep her job.

“No. Some might be less than thrilled about the attention, but no one would get in trouble with the law.” Using both hands, he picked up his burger. “Just come tonight, and then you can decide.” Taking a massive bite, he smiled at her, clearly done talking about it.

“I’ll think about it.”

She pulled her plate back to her and picked up her own burger. Her dad sat there, grinning at her, knowing she’d come tonight even as she debated it. Hell, she knew she’d be there, even if there was no story.

She didn’t know anything about MMA other than the fact that she’d watched a match or two with her father before. Watched was a loose definition. She’d played on her phone as he watched it, and she cheered when he did.

“Fine, but I don’t know about the story part. I’ll come and support you though,” she told him and took a bite of her burger.

“That’s all I ask,” he replied, and his grin didn’t fade a bit.

She’d have to go home and do some research before the match so she could at least look like she knew what she was doing there. Not that she had time for that.