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to fend for herself on the streets of Mitre, but there was nothing stopping her from visiting while he was away.
     
    At the very least, Cate would be glad to see her.
     
    “You don’t though,” Marlon reiterated. “Trust me. And look at you. No offense.” He held his gloves up in apology. “You might want to bulk up a little before you even talk about meddling in that shit. Seriously, get Avery to put you on a program—diet and exercise. And who knows, these pricks might not give you so much grief if you kicked some ass.”
     
    She grinned. “I’m considering it. And I reckon I could take most of you.”
     
    “Oh yeah?” He quirked an eyebrow, clearly doubting her. 
     
    “Yeah,” she said. “As soon as I find my red cape and boots, you’ll all be tapping out.”
     
    Marlon laughed. More importantly, several others saw him laugh.
     
    “See? I knew you was alright, Randy.”
     
    “Ross.”
     
    “I meant Ross.”
     
    She handed him the cloth for his handwrap. “So how often do you—”
     
    A loud voice interrupted from the far side of the ring. “Ross, have you got a minute?” It was Luca, leaning out of his office.
     
    Uh-oh. She froze, recalling who was in there with him, then she dashed over with leap-before-you-look defiance, the only way she knew to handle situations like this. The alternative, chewing on a gigantic stress sandwich, was not something the new Rose was willing to do. She heard Marlon say “Later” to himself, but the only thought zapping round in her head was one she wouldn’t face unless it became reality… What if Culver recognizes me?
     
    “What’s up?” she asked her boss.
     
    Culver looked up at her, the line between his eyebrows clearly defined. She swallowed hard and stopped short of the office.
     
    “We need you in here a minute,” said Luca.
     
    She glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone was blocking her way out of the gym. Nope, it was clear. At the first mention of her real identity she’d bolt so fast not even these ultra-fit men with quads the size of hockey pads would be able to catch her.
     
    “What can I help you with?” she asked, inching closer.
     
    “It’s Mr. Culver.” Shit. Shit. Shit. “He wants to know which hotels our guys stayed at during those fights in question. Thinks there might be a pattern, because two of his people quit fighting just before they were scheduled to appear at the same tournaments Gunny and Marshall fought in. I told him all that stuff’s in our database. You rearranged the files, remember, to make the finding things more efficient?”
     
    Rose’s sigh of relief wouldn’t have registered to anyone else, but it washed through her like the answer to an unconscious prayer, leaving her enervated. “Sure, we renamed the folders.” She acknowledged Culver’s presence with a quick “Hey”, which he returned, but otherwise she avoided eye contact.
     
    Luca’s computer had a version of Windows she hadn’t seen since high school. His previous filing system had been so haphazard she’d spent more time searching for the correct folders than she’d spent actually working in them. This new one wasn’t exactly the bee’s knees, but it was a thousand percent easier for her.
     
    “So much for efficiency,” she quipped. Avery snorted a laugh. “Okay, here you go: travel and accommodation—budgets and itinerary. It’s got the past three years.”
     
    “Ah, that’s it,” said Luca, taking control of the mouse. “I can’t get used to all this—”
     
    “Efficiency?” interrupted Avery.
     
    “Shut it before I beat you to death with my organized chaos,” said Luca.
     
    Both Avery and Culver laughed. Rose forced a smile as she attempted to sneak out.
     
    “Ross, is it?”
     
    Oh crap. “Yeah.”
     
    In Tyler Culver’s gaze, she saw a faint flicker of recognition and shrank from it. “Have we met before?”
     
    She frowned, cocked her head slightly to the side. “I don’t…think