I've spent the better part of today figuring out how to tell Donna I'm quitting. Going into the office is not an option. The last time a girl quit without giving two full weeks of notice, we heard various objects being thrown against her office walls. I don't think she actually threw anything directly at Jasmine, but I'd rather avoid in-person confrontation altogether. I considered giving her a phone call and politely stating my departure, but then she would definitely yell at me. So, I'm left with email. I think this is a reasonable option.

Dear Donna Grant,

I regret to inform you that as of next Monday I am resigning from my position at Hot Shot Events. Please know that I greatly appreciate the opportunity to work for such a wonderful company. I wish you all the best in the future.

Sincerely,

Delilah Sterling

My phone rings five minutes after I hit send. It's Donna. I let it go to voicemail. After several minutes of pacing around the living room, I listen to the message.

"DELILAH STERLING! YOU REGRET TO INFORM ME? Well, I regret to inform you, that you're FIRED, as of TODAY! Good luck, you'll NEED IT!"

I expected as much. Although, not working this weekend will set me a little behind on my bills. Whatever! What's done is done.

Now I can focus on what to wear tonight. I don't want to dress up too fancy since we're going to a sports bar, but I also don't want to look too casual. I need just the right amount of oomph to make Hunter think "wow, she looks great" but not so much that he knows I dressed up just for him.

I rummage through my closet looking for something, anything to wear. After thirty minutes, the pile of clothes on my bed is about a yard high. How is it possible to have so many clothes but nothing to wear? I pull out a black ripped jean skirt that I haven't seen since my college days. It fits! One item down, two more to go.

***

The bar is busy for a Wednesday night. The pungent smell of cigarettes, beer and sweat make me feel a little nauseous. Taking off my jacket, I scan the room for Kimmy. She texted me saying they were in a semi-circle booth at the back of the bar, in front of the projector screen.

Pushing and shoving my way through the hordes of UFC fans, I reach the tattered red leather booth. There are beer bottles, shot glasses, and a bowl of shelled peanuts scattered across the table. I guess they've already been here for a while. Hunter peers up from his phone as I approach. God, he's even more attractive than I remember. Dang it.

"Lilah! You made it!" Kimmy gleams as she claps her hands and wiggles her legs, which are comfortably swung over Jack's lap.

"Hi Lilah," Jack says lifting his beer in the air.

"Hey guys." I sit down next to Hunter who slides closer to Jack. "Thanks"

Hunter's leg grazes mine as I sit down. It's not like his touch has magical powers, but just to be on the safe side, I cross my legs to create a little distance.

"Why are you so late? You missed the first eight fights!" Kimmy whines.

"Um... it took longer to walk here than I thought," I lie. I'm not about to tell them that I couldn't find something to wear and almost decided to cancel.

"You walked here?" Jack asks, shocked. "Kimmy said you live by Columbia, that's a far walk."

"I like walking," I reply nervously. "Good for the heart." And the wallet.

Hunter watches me as I take a small sip of my beer, his intense eyes causing me so much anxiety I end up spilling beer down my shirt. Shit. Hunter's chest rumbles. Is he laughing at me?

"Let's do a shot!" Kimmy shouts and passes me a shot of tequila, no lime. "To walking!" I laugh and take the shot. Ugh. Definitely needs lime.

"So, when does the next fight start?" I ask Hunter. Kimmy and Jack are no longer paying attention.

Hunter points to the large projector. One of the fighters is making his way through the tunnel, his goons patting him on the shoulder and spouting words of encouragement in...Russian? Some sort of Slavic tongue.

"The first main match should be starting now," Hunter answers as he takes a sip of his beer.

"Who's the favourite to win?" I watch both boxers enter the ring. "The short bald guy or the tall bald guy?" Truthfully, they both look menacing.

Hunter chuckles. "I gather you don't watch UFC?"

"No, not really, I don't see how watching two guys beat each other up is entertaining."

"You've never watched UFC with Jack," Hunter grins as the bell rings and the match starts.

"BROKEN NOSE!" Jack yells as Kimmy covers her eyes with her one free hand. Hunter laughs. I look at him confused.

"He likes to guess all the injuries before the reports come out," Hunter explains. "He says it's a way of testing his medical training."

***

The fight lasts the full three rounds, which apparently is only fifteen minutes.

"That's it?" I ask as I fish a peanut out of the bowl.

"What did you expect?" Hunter smiles amused. "Any longer and they'd both be dead."

I shrug. "How much are UFC tickets? Like for the seats right by the octagon?" Hunter taught me that word during a commercial break.

"Ringside? Several thousand," Hunter answers casually. My mouth drops. Who has that kind of money?

"Several thousand? To watch people fight? That's crazy!"

"Super Bowl tickets cost just as much," Hunter comments as he taps my New England Patriots phone case with his finger. I'm tempted to flip my phone around, but the cracks on my screen are equally as embarrassing as my Tom Brady phone case.

"Touché," I playfully squint my eyes at Hunter.

Leaning over Jack and Hunter, Kimmy aggressively snatches the bowl of snacks from in front of me, spilling shells all over the table.

"Hey! Who ate all my nuts?" Kimmy throws her head back and laughs.

Jack starts to stand up. "I'll go get some more, babe."

"No, no. I'll go. She'll probably die if you leave her right now."

Kimmy nods her head. "I would!"

"What can I get ye?" asks the bartender. He has a thick reddish beard and weird round metal holes in his ears. Oh my God, I can see through them. Stop staring!

"Just a bowl of peanuts, please." I hope he didn't think I was being rude. The bartender turns around and scoops up a big handful of peanuts from a bucket and drops it into a bowl. No gloves? No scoop? That can't be sanitary. I shudder. Thank God they're at least shelled.

"Here ya go, a bowl o' nuts." The bartender winks and hands back the now tarnished free snacks. I smile, trying to hide my disgust.

As I turn around, the wooden doors of the bar creek open and Jason comes stomping towards me. Shit. Why is he here? This can't be good. I grip the bowl tighter as he approaches.

"Where is she?!" Jason spits through his teeth. I can smell liquor on his breath.

"What're you doing here?" I scan around. Where'd the bartender go? There's almost no customers in this section of the bar; all the TVs are down in the back.

"I said, where is she?!" Jason treads closer towards me, forcing me to bash up against the bar chairs.

"She's not here!" I lie.

"Bullshit! Eddy called, said he saw her here, crawling all over some dude." Jason's breathing is getting heavier, a vein pops out of his forehead. Jason's an angry guy, worse when he drinks.

"Just go home." Does he think if he yells at Kimmy, she'll come running back? Idiot.

"Fuck off, Lilah! I know she's here." Jason turns and starts walking to the back of the bar. I run around in front of him and push his chest lightly, hoping he'll stop.

"Leave her alone! You cheated, so now deal with the consequences of your stupid actions!" Jason swats at my hand.

"Is that what you told her? Huh? That I cheated on her? You tell her to dump me?" Jason's whole body is vibrating.

"I didn't tell her to do anything." The nerve of this guy. "Kimmy figured it out all by herself that you're a loser!"

Jason moves closer so that he's only a few inches from my face. "I didn't cheat!"

"Really? Where were you Friday morning, then?" Stand your ground Lilah, stand it!

"At home! Asleep! What a stupid fucking question." And there it is. Hook, line and sinker.

"Liar. Kimmy saw you by V's apartment!" She was right, he's such a dirtbag.

Jason looks flustered. "Yeah? So what? I was just in the area helping out a buddy!"

"Oh really? Who?" Unbelievable.

"Why the fuck does it matter?" Jason clenches his knuckles. I guess his frail little ego can't handle being caught.

"Because you're lying! Just leave, it's over. She doesn't want anything to do with you. You're acting pathetic."

"Fucking bitch." Jason winds up his arm. I flinch and put my hands up. Peanuts go flying everywhere. The bowl hits the ground with a thump. Holy shit, he just swung at me!

Slowly taking a step back, I bump up against a body.

"Is there a problem?" I turn my head and meet Hunter's dark eyes. I nod timidly. Hunter delicately grabs my waist and pushes me behind him. "Is there a problem?" Hunter repeats slowly, to Jason this time.

I peek my head out from behind my shield.

Jason inspects Hunter, then puffs up his chest. "Is this him?" Jason barks, rolling up his sleeves. "You fucking my girlfriend?"

"She's not your girlfriend anymore!" I shout from behind Hunter. That probably didn't help de-escalate the situation. Tucking my head back, I tug on Hunter's shirt. "That's Kimmy's ex, just make him leave," I whisper.

"Oh, fuck off Lilah, don't tell me what to do," Jason shouts. Ok, I guess I didn't whisper.

"Enough," Hunter snarls as he grabs Jason's collar. "You do not talk to her like that, understand?"

The bartender strolls through the cooler doors and surveys the peanuts all over the floor, before turning his focus to us.

"Oh, fer Christ's sake, if yer gonna fight, go outside." The bartender shakes his head as he grabs a broom. He's encouraging this? Call the cops! Call security! ...Oh my God, what if he is security?

I tug on Hunter's shirt again. "Don't go outside!"

"Outside," Hunter commands as he pushes Jason through the front doors. "You, stay here," he adds. I flap my arms in disbelief. What did I just tell him?!

Do I go get Jack? I don't want to involve Kimmy in this though, she's had to deal with enough Jason crap to last a lifetime. Hunter could probably take care of himself, he literally towers over Jason. Then again, the short bald guy just won the UFC fight against the tall bald guy, so maybe height doesn't actually matter.

There are people outside by the sounds of it, maybe a good Samaritan will break up the fight. Unless this whole neighbourhood is full of people like this bartender, "oooo go outside". Idiot. And why are the windows frosted?

Pacing back and forth, I can feel the bartender's eyes following me.

"Relax, there doll. Let 'em handle their business." The bartender pours me a big shot of something brown. "Fer the nerves."

Screw it. In one fluid motion, I chug down what I can only describe as a mixture of vinegar and gasoline. Suppressing a gag, I give the shot glass back to the bartender.

"One more n' yer golden." He refills the glass, and I reluctantly take another shot. This time it doesn't taste so bad.

A warm sensation spreads throughout my body as I take a seat on a barstool and check my phone. There are four new texts from Kimmy.

8:34 p.m. : LiIah! Where are my nuts??

8:37 p.m.: LILS, nuuuuuuuuts?

8:39 p.m.: JK stole some off a diff table LOL

8: 44 p.m.: We sent Hunter to HUNT you down hahaha

At least someone seems to be having a good time. I cross my arms and rest my head on the bar for five minutes until the bartender pokes my shoulder.

"Yer boy's back," the bartender motions towards the door. Jumping off the stool, I suddenly feel a bit off-kilter. I steady myself as Hunter walks towards me.

"Are you ok!?" I observe his body for any evidence of a fight. His knuckles look unharmed and his face untouched.

"I'm fine Lilah, we just talked." Hunter picks up the empty shot glass next to me and raises an eyebrow. "Are you ok?"

"It was for the nerves." The brown mixture must be working because I'm starting to feel pretty damn good. "So, what did you "talk" to Jason about?" ...Did I just use air quotes?

"When did you last eat? " Hunter avoids my question.

When did I last eat? Oh! "I had a sandwich around 3 pm," I boast.

"That was five hours ago. Why don't we order some food?" Hunter suggests.

"Hot dogs!" I blurt out. "I want hot dogs from Ricky's." Maybe hot dogs will soak up whatever poison Mr. Bartender served me.

"Okay, let's go get your jacket."

***

"Kimmy, I'm leaving," I announce as I pick up my jacket.

Kimmy looks at me and frowns. "You're leaving me? But you just got here and the fights aren't over!" The girl has barely paid attention to me and now she's sad? Classic.

"She wants hot dogs. From Ricky's," Hunter smirks at Jack who laughs. When did everyone become so judgemental against hot dogs?

"Don't laugh," Kimmy puts her finger on Jack's mouth and looks toward me. "They're celebration hot dogs, right?"

"And what are you celebrating?" Jack asks, removing Kimmy's fingers.

"She got the job! Signed the contracts and everything!" Kimmy replies before I can even get a word out.

"Oh, that's great! Congratulations! I had a feeling Marice would like you."

Hunter glares at Jack. "Marice?" he asks. Jack shrugs apologetically.

Hunter knows Marice, too? I guess he would know her through Jack.

"Thanks, Jack!" I put on my jacket, struggling to figure out the armholes. When did this become so hard?! "Now it's hot dog time!"