Jezebel by Koko Brown Page B

matching beret, a red and navy
candy-stripped sweater and a pair of kid gloves.
    Celeste
bit her bottom lip. Why did she choose today of all days to look like
the sailor off a box of Cracker Jacks? Even worse, would he be
turned off by her forwardness? What if he were no longer interested?
Maybe in the bright of day, he’d find her lacking. And why on
earth was she chasing a man?
    Bombarded with doubt, her
gaze drifted to the package store on the corner. Imagining the rows
of shiny bottles, she licked her lips.
    She
didn’t need
a fifth, maybe just a half pint to see her through. She even took a
step or two in the liquor store’s direction, but reminded of
her promise to Trudy, she stopped.
    “ Turn over a new
leaf,” Celeste murmured, edging over to the curb. “Jim
Beam sounds sweet, but Shane’s the real thing.”
    Somewhat bolstered by her
pep talk, Celeste navigated across four lanes of light traffic then
climbed the curb. She didn’t stop until she stood in the gym’s
lobby. Pretty much a blank canvas, except for a crammed announcement
board, the lobby led to a short hallway and beyond that an open
gymnasium.
    Celeste walked down the
short hallway. With each step, the smell of sweat and mold became
more overwhelming. If she wasn’t made of stiffer stuff, she
would’ve succumbed to a fit of vapors. Gymnasiums were
definitely not for the faint hearted or the feminine sex, for that
matter.
    “ Move those feet! You
look like you’re slogging in mud.”
    Celeste searched out the
source of the crack and her gaze fell on a pot-bellied, elf of a man
posted at the center ring.
    Inside the ropes two men,
one colored and the other white, both brutes, circled each other.
Intermittingly, a punch landed and sweat spewed in all directions,
marking the canvas floor.
    Instead of being repelled,
Celeste walked over. Their lightning fast fisticuffs and quick
footwork dazzled her, drew her in. Their timing and rhythm reminded
her of dancing. So much so, she could watch the two combatants all
day.
    “ You need some help?”
    Celeste looked at the
ring-side elf. Draped over the ropes and chewing on an unlit cigar,
he looked downright mean and contrary. If she had to choose, she
would’ve steered clear of him.
    Since she’d made it
this far, Celeste pasted on a full-watt smile rivaling Times Square
and walked over, hand held out. The trainer eyed it for a moment,
and then looked back at the ring. “Not sure if you read the
sign in the lobby, but no females allowed. You can read can’t
ya?”
    Although she’d been
rebuffed and insulted in the span of less than a minute, Celeste
maintained her smile. “I didn’t maybe it was spelled
wrong,” she quipped.
    The trainer’s head
snapped around. “What ya want?” he barked.
    “ I was looking for
Shane Brennan,” she said.
    “ For what?” He
eyed her up and down while moving his cigar from one side of his
mouth to the other. Although she had a feeling he found her wanting,
Celeste held her ground. “He owe you some money?”
    “ I don’t owe her
anything,” one of the boxers retorted, attracting her
attention. He was unstringing his boxing gloves, but keeping his gaze
fixed on her. “Matter of fact, she owes me.”
    Celeste stepped closer for a
better view. Shane Brennan in a pair of snug lace-up shorts and
booties was worth the price of admission alone! Broad shouldered, but
slim hipped, his thighs resembled twin tree trunks. What she wouldn’t
give to wrap her legs around them.
    “ Good
timing, toots. Shane’s been wasting my time. He’s been
no good all week, matter of fact. Maybe you can put some sugar in
his tank.”
    “ Watch your mouth,
Ollie,” Shane warned, walking over to the ropes. To her he
said, “We can talk out back.”
    Celeste
practically gloated as she followed Shane through a large loading
dock door. The fat bastard deserved a set down.
    Grateful for the fresh air,
Celeste gulped in a mouthful. As she turned to him she stopped,
frozen by the