“You want me to do your bookkeeping?”

“Well, now that you mention it, girl, I think that would be a grand idea.”

“But how do you know if I’m any good, and more importantly, how do you know if I’m trustworthy?”

“You’re not much good at interviews, are you, girl?” His question was obviously rhetorical, and before I could say anything else, he continued.

“I’ve known you for over a year. You’re polite, punctual, and smart.” Only Danny could bark out my best qualities like he was reading stats off a baseball card.

“I can check on your work, and as for being trustworthy, you’d have to get up early in the morning to get one over on me. So, what do you say?”

“Thanks for the offer, Danny, but I don’t think I can add another job in with school and the shifts I’m already doing.”

It sure was tempting, though. Most days my feet ached and my back hurt. The chance to get paid to sit at a desk and do something that for me was bread and butter was one I should be snapping Danny’s hand off to take. But Mike had been good to me, and if nothing else, I was loyal.

“I’ve already had a chat with Mike and Rhona, and they’re happy to drop you back to your original two shifts a week if you can finish out weekends until the end of your rota. You can pick up two nights a week with me after school, and I pay forty percent better than Mike for the sort of work you’d be doing.”

I did the math in my head, and with that pay, I could drop down to working four evenings a week on better pay than I was making now. More importantly, I’d have three nights a week off and no more dawn starts. I could have cried with relief. This morning I was stressing over new gloves, and now I felt like doing cartwheels. Danny really was an angel. Then a horrible thought occurred to me, and my face dropped.

“Are you sure the work is there, though? I’d hate to get there and be twiddling my thumbs because you’re just trying to help me out.”

“The only person I ever help, sunshine, is myself. Rhona and Mike need you Tuesdays and Wednesdays, and if you don’t mind, you’ll be working for me Thursdays and Fridays. Now...,” he spit on his hand and held it out to me, “do we have a deal?”

I grimaced at the spitting, but shook hands firmly with the angel of my salvation. I had a new friend and a new job in twenty-four hours. I was, most definitely, on a roll.

UN-FRICKIN-BELIEVABLE. There was absolutely no way I was going inside. I clutched the piece of paper tightly, on which Danny had written the address of his business, and looked up again at the number above the door in the hopes that I was wrong. I felt so stupid. I, who questioned everything, had never asked Danny what sort of business he ran. Apparently, my streak of fortuity had come to an end. I was standing outside of the heavy oak doors of Driscoll’s Boxing Gym.

A thickset arm reached from behind me to pull open a door by the polished brass handle, and I was jolted forward as the biggest man that I had ever seen caught me with the edge of his gym bag. As he walked inside, oblivious to the knock, he turned to hold the door open for me.

“Well then, darlin’, are you coming or going?”

I said nothing but swallowed hard. He chuckled at my obvious discomfort, winked, and let the door fall shut behind him. I stood staring at the doors like a zombie. The guy was huge and fiercely intimidating, but I hadn’t felt even slightly scared of him. A little overwhelmed, maybe, but not scared.

“Fuck it,” I said aloud, pulled the door open, and walked in with more bravado than I actually felt. I passed slowly though a narrow corridor and up a flight of steps as the sounds of the gym grew louder. On the right was a huge notice board, covered in posters promoting fights, and handwritten notes advertising equipment for sale. Among all the signs was one that read, ‘FRIDAY IS SUBS DAY. IF YOU HAVEN’T PAID YOUR SUBS DON’T EMBARRASS YOURSELF BY HAVING TO BE ASKED FOR THEM.’ That explained why Danny wanted me at the end of every week. If that was when subs were paid, chances were that was when he paid bills and wages, too. Knowing I couldn’t stand in the corridor forever, I approached the gym as unobtrusively as I could. The place was much bigger on the inside than you could ever guess from looking at the street entrance, and it was absolutely packed. At the back of the gym was a full-size boxing ring but all around were stations where fighters were training, some with hanging punch bags and others with speedballs or just pads. Caught like a deer in the headlights, and with a death grip on my shoulder bag, I scanned the room for Danny. One or two of the fighters noticed me and stared inquisitively, but much to my relief, no one stopped training.

My gaze stopped on Cormac O’Connell, and I doubted there was another woman under sixty whose eyes would have drifted any further. I was right about him being tall. Even from this distance, he looked to be at least six-foot-five. His back was to me as he tapped fist to fist against a speedball, and what a view it was from behind. Broad shoulders rippled with definition down to a lean waist. He was too far away to see any detail, but the tattoo that I’d glimpsed beneath his shirt spanned his arm from his elbow all the way to his shoulder and around his upper back. It was as hot as the body it adorned. As though O’Connell could feel my eyes on him, he stopped punching and turned to meet my stare. Just like that, his face lit up with a smile. Not a cocky throwaway grin, but a genuine smile, like he was really pleased to see me. I felt as though he’d caught me gawking and looked away. Thankfully, my saviour, and the one who’d gotten me into this predicament in the first place, came to my rescue. Despite my fear that he would, he didn’t shout across the gym at me, but when he spotted me from a door at the back of the room, I had the sense that he wanted to. He stomped my way, and I was amused at the sight of big burly fighters hurrying to move.

“Found us okay, then?” he asked.

“You run a gym?” I squeaked stupidly, stating the obvious.

He motioned for me to follow him as he ploughed another path through the fighters.

“I’ve had this gym for over thirty years. Don’t think I could ever work for anyone else. I live, breathe, and sleep this place. Smells like home to me.”

“It smells pretty bad, Danny,” I replied, with another squeak.

“It smells like hard work and pride, sunshine.”

I felt ashamed. I’d been knocking Danny’s livelihood when he’d been kind enough to offer me this job. Not knowing how to dig myself out of this one, I kept quiet.