Felix smiled, texting back only that he’d see her later. Maybe a not-so-quiet night would do him some good too. Then he smirked. Who was he kidding? Knowing Adelina, his night would be anything but quiet.
~~~
The next two days were interesting. For starters, Rene had already given Felix the heads up that, as he predicted, Grecco’s people were feeling the heat of the media and sports broadcasters all over who continued to insist that his taking the title from Felix had been a total fluke. It didn’t help that Grecco refused a rematch and went on to fight nothing but bums. The ratings and sales for his last pay-per-view fight were at an all-time low for a championship fight. Felix didn’t get it. Even if his knocking out Felix in the first round had been a fluke, Grecco had a pretty impressive record. The guys he’d been fighting lately were near amateurs.
Felix had long ago told Rene to stop any negotiations for a rematch. It pissed him off to be the one begging to fight Grecco when it should be the other way around. Well, now Grecco’s team had come to them, wanting to negotiate. Rene had met with them alone because Felix told him he wouldn’t bother meeting with them until they had a decent offer on the table. So far they hadn’t, but this was a start.
One of the annoying meetings he’d had lined up for the day was a meeting with the lawyers of the asshole whose face he’d broken the last time he’d been arrested for assault at a bar—the reason Preston had given him the ultimatum.
Technically, Felix had broken a few bones in the guy’s face anyway. His lawyer had given him the medical terminology of which bones exactly, but all Felix took away from the anatomy lesson was that he’d fucked the guy up pretty badly.
They’d decided to settle out of court, and now this guy who’d taunted Felix at a club was going to walk away with a hefty sum. It burned Felix that it had to work out this way, but he knew it was his own damn fault. His lawyers and Rene had long ago warned him to expect this and that many were willing to take a hit from a former champ just to collect. Felix was fine with the taunts and could ignore the assholes. That is, until he was drinking, and that night he had been.
“You have to remember, Felix, your fists are lethal. You’re lucky you didn’t kill the guy.”
That was Cortez’s consolation to Felix when he delivered the news of just how much they’d be settling for. It was either that or go to trial where he’d likely end up doing time and shelling out money to this guy anyway. It was the same thing the guys at 5th Street had reminded Felix of. That he was lucky to have gotten off just having to financially compensate the guy. This could’ve been so much worse.
The bigger consolation had been seeing the guy at the private hearing. It’d been almost two months since the incident, and the swelling and bruising were gone. But there was no hiding the permanent dents. His lawyers argued their client would need extensive reconstructive surgery to fix the damage Felix had done. They could say it until they were blue in the face that it would cost a lot of money to fix their client’s face, but Felix knew just by looking at the guy that no amount of surgery would be fixing the mess he’d made. Maybe they could get it so the guy didn’t resemble Quasimodo so closely, but he’d definitely be living with the scars of what his big mouth had cost him forever. That alone was worth every penny Felix would have to cough up.
The day had ended on a more positive note. He was in to present at the ESPY awards that summer. Rene said it was a step in the right direction. Getting on some of those kinds of respected sports shows was better than the cameo he did on Family Guy a few weeks ago against Rene’s wishes. The only scene he was in he punched a heckling Peter Griffin in the face at a bar. The very next scene Peter was in a convertible, looking like the elephant man in dark shades. But it was funny as shit!
The following day was even more memorable. When he arrived at 5th Street late that afternoon, the first thing he noticed was the cop car parked out in front. It could mean anything. Maybe they’d had some trouble and the police had been dispatched, or it could be a friendly visit as they often got from the L.A.P.D.
What Felix loved most about being in Los Angeles was he could use one of his many cars he kept at his home base. The house he owned in L.A. wasn’t the only one he had, but it was the only one he considered his home. His mother and sister lived just down the hill from him, and though he spent more time at his mom’s place than his own, it was still home. He’d bought both homes just after winning his second title fight. So whenever he was in town, instead of having to rely on a driver to get him around, he had the comfort of driving himself.
He pulled into one of the staff-only parking spaces just near the front entrance of 5th Street. At that point, he was close enough to see the cop walk out the front entrance with a girl. Immediately, he could see it wasn’t any type of situation. She wasn’t handcuffed nor did she seem upset. They stopped at the squad car, and the cop even turned and leaned against it. He smiled as he continued to talk to her. She crossed her arms in front of her and sort of swayed back and forth, talking to the guy with no concern at all.
Felix shoved his keys in his pants’ pocket, smirking. Evidently, the cop was making a social call while still on duty.
Bringing his mind back to today’s schedule, he took a deep breath. It always felt good to be at his old stomping grounds, but this time it felt even better. He’d been through so much shit the past couple of years that he’d been thinking of staying here near family and friends for a while—slow things down like he should’ve done sooner.