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You licked your lips, only to find that they had been split. <span class="mu-r">“Either of us could’ve won that.”</span> you said with a calm air of menace, almost as if it were a fact.
Sal shrugged. <span class="mu-g">“Be that as it may, Stick was the more believable pick. He’d already taken you down for a 9 count earlier in the match, and he’s a vet. The people love him.”</span> he tried to say with a forced smile. <span class="mu-g">“And with a little time and work, the people are gonna love you too.”</span>
He was right. You knew he was, but you still couldn’t forgive him. He ruined your moment, and you hated him for it.
<span class="mu-r">“Yeah? How about you make it up to me by scheduling a rematch. Give him some time to lick his wounds while you hype up the occasion.”</span> you suggested.
Sal shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His smile faltered for just a moment. <span class="mu-g">“Heh. Arranging something like that would be a bit pricey, my friend. Just the marketing alone-”</span>
<span class="mu-r">“Shouldn’t be a problem, because my good buddy Sal is gonna make this up to me. Right?”</span> you said, never taking your eyes off of his. You watched as a bead of sweat rolled down his face.
He sputtered for a moment, grabbed a piece of paper and started jotting down notes. <span class="mu-g">“I’ll, uh…I’ll get the word out. Next month, ‘Stick and Huntsman are gonna have a rematch’! How’s that sound?”</span>
<span class="mu-r">“Better. You got an ice pack around here?”</span> you asked.
Sal paused, before getting up and nodding furiously. He went to his personal freezer and brought back a small frozen tablet. It was cool to the touch, and you needed to wrap it in some cloth before placing it in direct contact with your tender flesh. You exhaled sharply, instantly relieved by its soothing presence.
You got up from your seat, walked towards the door and placed your hand on the doorknob. But before you left, you turned back around to address him.
<span class="mu-r">“Say…you wouldn’t happen to know any good restaurants in the area, would ya’?”</span>
Sal pondered over it for a moment before nodding and saying, <span class="mu-g">“There’s an Irish Pub not too far from here. It's just a few minutes away.”</span>
You nodded, wagged a finger at him and turned back towards the door. You weren’t going to thank him, no matter what he did to try and make this right. Everything that was coming to you had been earned and hard-fought.
You opened the door, stepped through and almost closed it again when you heard a sigh of relief from Sal. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw a webline snag the stack of cash on his desk and drag it through the crack in the door.
—---
When you were back outside, Flint was already there to help you along. <span class="mu-g">“You alright, Benny? That was some serious bullshit back there!”</span>
(Cont.)
