The next evening, Zak was back to his charming self again - yet I knew that I had not done anything suspicious - yet - to pit the fabulous Quantrell against me. I knew that that was inevitable and I felt an odd pang about that. Again, a remnant from the past threatened to resurface - something about danger in the corporation that came and went as swiftly as it had come, never to be retrieved again, seemingly.

"So. You still up for a bit of a sparring match tonight, young Sasha?" Zak asked as he mimed a few shadow punches at me.

"As ready as you are, Zak," I said and gave him a genuine grin.

Zak nodded before he said - "Looking forward to it."

"Yeah. Yeah, so am I," I said and I found that I meant it.

Once again Zak looked pleased and gave me one of his wide cat-got-the-cream grins.

****

The evening spent behind the bar flew by and when it was over, I was escorted - personally no less - to Zak's own car. I raised an eyebrow when I saw that was an old BMW Z4. I nodded in appreciation - I'd always loved those cars and Zak seemed particularly pleased at my approval.

We slid in and Zak drove me to his boxing gym which as it turned out wasn't so very far away at all. I guessed that Zak had wanted to personally chauffeur me there. I wondered though if he generally preferred to be the one who was chauffeured, yet had decided to temporarily do away with that to impress me. Well - if he'd genuinely wanted to impress me, his efforts had worked. Once we'd both climbed out of the car, we walked towards the gym in a companionable silence. It gave me the chance to check the place out yet it seemed nondescript enough and looked much like plenty of other gyms I'd seen scattered across Essex and London.

"Let me show you in," Zak said as he opened the door.

I nodded and allowed him to usher me in in front of him; I didn't need the ushering however yet I knew that someone had to go in first. If Zak wanted to be a gentleman so much, I thought I might as well indulge him.

I paused when we reached inside and examined the boxing ring that stood empty nearby, the punching bags, the groups of youngsters and older people working out and sparring everywhere. Zak of course was greeted warmly by everyone he came across - some of that warmth even was reflected onto me when they realised that I was with him. I found msyelf thinking that I could easily get used to that.

"New boyfriend, is it, Zakariah?" one of the trainers asked as he eyed me appreciatively.

"I'm working on it," Zak replied and gave me a cheeky grin when I laughed.

"Yeah? And is it working?" the trainer asked yet he was asking me that time and not Zak.

"It might be," I admitted which made Zak grin even more.

"You can't go wrong with this one, mate," the trainer said as he jerked his head towards Zak. "Got a heart of gold, he has. Loads of money, too. But don't be fooled by the rocks that he's got."

"Oh, leave the J-LO crap behind for one minute, Terry," Zak groaned.

The newly named Terry just grinned and wandered away.

"He's pulling your leg, mate," Zak said in embarrassment. "Though it is true I'll look after ya. If you'll let me."

"We'll see," I said in amusement.

Zak seemed to take that as the challenge that it was intended to be because after that he played the courtly gent to the hilt. Once we'd changed into some more comfortable clothing to train in, he showed me the rudimentary basics of boxing - such as stances, the number system, defensive movements and boxing combinations.

I picked it up as quickly as I picked up anything else, aided undoubtedly by my photographic memory. Zak looked impressed by the end of our session and he gave me an approving nod.

"You're gonna go far, kid," he predicted. "We'll be putting you in the ring against Fury and Usyk in no time."

"What, together? I hope not. And I certainly don't want to compete," I told him though I laughed. "I just want to do this for fun."

"And is it?" Zak asked as we wandered through to the changing rooms again.

"Very," I said as I'd found that I'd enjoyed it more than I thought I would have done.

"Good! Keep coming back here then. If I'm not here, just ask for Terry - the J-Lo-obsessed fellow you met earlier. He's the proper manager here. I'm just the money man. Tel will look after you," Zak said. "Under my orders of course."

"I'm sure. And I'll do that," I promised.

"But first, you need to shower that sweat off then I'm taking you out for a meal. On me, of course," Zak said.

I looked at him uncertainly before I said - "I have money. I can pay."

"I know you can. I pay your bleedin' wages, don't I?" Zak asked with a laugh. "But please. Allow me this indulgence. And don't go all Cossack macho on me and insist on going Dutch. Pretend it's a date. In fact, don't pretend. It is one. If you'll allow it."

He gave me a charming grin then and I found it hard to say no to that.

"All right. If you wish," I said and Zak grinned again.

That time he looked as though he was the cat who'd got the canary and the canary's mate as well. I wasn't sure which one I was - probably both. I just shrugged and got myself ready, glad for the fact that I had dressed in something smart enough for a date that evening that I wouldn't look too amiss to wherever Zak was thinking of taking me. I only hoped it wasn't to one of his own restaurants.