Domination in America, Starting from being a Boxing Champion

Chapter 9: Driving for Taylor

After training, Link got his phone in the boxing gym's changing room. There were two messages from Taylor Swift sent an hour ago asking what he was doing and mentioning something about her rehearsal.

Link thought about it and decided to call Swift directly.

"Hello, this is Taylor's mother; she's in the middle of rehearsal and can't take your call right now."

Mrs. Andrea's voice came through the phone receiver.

"Hello, Mrs. Andrea, this is Link. May I know when Taylor will be finished with her rehearsal?"

Link politely inquired.

"I'm not sure at the moment."

"Okay, I'll contact her later then."

The call ended quickly on the other end with a sound from Popo. Link felt that Mrs. Andrea didn't quite like him, her politeness tinged with aloofness.

Link replied to Swift's message and then rode his motorcycle around the City of Miami.

Having been in Miami for just over a month, except for Palm Beach, he had not visited other places. With the weather being nice, he thought it would be good to look around.

Miami is the most populous city in Florida, at the southeastern corner of the United States map, comprising three counties: Miami-Dade, Broward County, and Palm Beach County.

The beach where Baker's little shop is located is in the middle of the outer beaches of Palm Beach County, known as the Gold Coast for its high-quality sand.

Miami is bordered by the Atlantic Ocean to the east and the Gulf of Mexico to the west, lying within the subtropical monsoon climate zone. With year-round temperatures above 15 degrees Celsius and only two seasons, winter temperatures are also relatively warm.

With its warm and humid climate, luxuriant vegetation all year round, and air untouched by industrial pollution, Miami is known as the Garden City and the retirement center of America, "God's Waiting Room."

Miami is also an international metropolis and the Latin America headquarters for many multinational companies, including Disney, ExxonMobil, FedEx, Microsoft, Oracle, Sony, and others, holding significant status in finance, business, media, entertainment, arts, and international trade.

Last May, Miami was ranked as the cleanest city in America by Forbes magazine, and this March, it was rated by UBS as the wealthiest city in the United States and the fifth wealthiest globally.

In Palm Beach's Gold Coast, skyscrapers, five-star hotels, upscale resort condominiums, and oceanfront villas can be seen everywhere, with luxury cars on the streets more densely packed than at a luxury car expo.

Link rode his little motorcycle weaving through the luxury cars, and as he passed the Trump International Hotel, his phone buzzed twice.

"You're practicing boxing? Why are you practicing boxing?"

"I can box too, maybe we can spar sometime (fist fist ha ha)."

Link looked at the message and smiled. Swift was quite cute when she wasn't angry.

"I practice boxing because I like it, and the dive shop business is just okay—I'm planning to be a part-time boxer to earn some extra money."

"I won't fight you, you're a girl, and if I hit you, you'd probably cry for a long time."

Ding-dong~ Ding-dong~

Taylor sent several more messages in quick succession, telling him that boxing wasn't a good choice, it was too dangerous, and also said that his voice was very nice, very magnetic, suggesting that he could consider becoming a singer.

A singer? Link laughed out loud. It was true that he had a decent voice and could sing well, but he couldn't read music, not even a simple score. Relying on singing for his livelihood was too difficult—unless Swift invited him to team up with her, with Swift singing and him in charge of "yeah!"

"Miss Ivanka, here is your car key."

As he was replying to Taylor's message, a waiter in a red shirt brushed past him, holding out a set of car keys to a woman coming out of the hotel.

Link glanced up, and his blue eyes gleamed, a bit dazzled by her.

The woman was tall, around 180 centimeters, almost as tall as Link in her sharp high heels. She wore elegant sunglasses, a sea-blue blouse, and a black skirt, curving strikingly both at the front and the back, the weighty parts wearisome to look at.

Although Taylor was also 180 cm tall and had a nice figure, his development was still no match for the woman in front of him.

Link felt that the woman looked somewhat familiar, and as she passed by, he called out, "Miss Ivanka, I'm a fan of yours, could you give me an autograph?"

The woman stopped in her tracks, looked back at him, and seeing a handsome guy with a good-looking appearance, she laughed and said, "Are you my fan?"

"Yes, I've read about you, and I think you're a very intelligent woman."

"Thank you!"

The woman said politely with a smile.

Link fumbled in his pocket and, with regret, spread his hands, "I forgot to bring a pen, Miss Ivanka, please allow me to introduce myself, my name is Link Baker, and I'm an excellent boxer."

"A boxer? Are you any good?"

The woman adjusted her glasses, looked him up and down with a smile, and said.

"Yes, Miss Ivanka, before long, you'll see me on TV and in the news, and they will call me the Boxing King."

Link said confidently, lifting his handsome eyebrows.

"Haha, you're quite amusing, goodbye, Mr. Boxing King!"

With a wave of her hand, the woman got into a red Ferrari Enzo parked at the curb, started the car, and the wind blew her blonde hair as she drove away.

Link shrugged his shoulders, regretting not having brought a pen; Ivanka's autograph could probably sell for a few dozen US dollars in the future.

He suddenly hit his forehead, once he became the Boxing King, earning tens or hundreds of millions of US dollars for a match—what would a few dozen dollars matter? Indeed, it's hard to shake off the mindset of the poor.

"The rehearsal is almost over, I'm going to grab some food. There's an Italian seafood restaurant next to the arena; their shrimp soup is really amazing. Do you want to try it?"

Taylor sent a message asking.

"Sure, I'll be there in ten minutes."

Taylor's rehearsal venue was at the Hard Rock Stadium, located in the wealthy community of West Palm Beach, with the best environment, convenient transport, and close to the beach, also known as Miami's garden.

It took Link eight minutes to reach the east gate of the Hard Rock Stadium.

This stadium is home to the Miami Dolphins, the NFL team, making it the largest and most luxurious stadium in Miami with a capacity of 65,000 people, two to three times larger than the Miami Heat's home, the American Airlines Arena.

The stadium was busy with people coming and going for the music rehearsal.

Many music fans were sitting on the grass in front of the stadium, holding posters of stars like Tim McGraw, Faith Hill, Carrie Underwood, Alison Krauss, Vince Gill, and waiting for their idols to appear from the stadium, including a few Taylor's fans.

After waiting for over ten minutes at the gate, Taylor emerged discreetly from the east door, wearing a pink baseball cap, a printed T-shirt with jeans.

"I saw your fans, turns out you're quite the star."

"Of course, didn't you know before?"

Taylor said with pride, tilting her chin up a bit, a playful look on her delicate face.

"I knew, just didn't expect your popularity to be this high."

Link smiled, revved the throttle hard, and with a roar, the motorbike sped off onto the street.

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