“You’re gonna be okay?” Shauna asks David sympathetically. Bloody hell, it feels like someone died, I think, but simply nod my head. I don’t have the energy. “Just lay low,” she says kindly and pats me on the back. When she makes her exit, Scott follows her.
Carrie wouldn’t betray me, would she?
I’m still struggling to come to terms with all this. Coach Miller won’t like this at all, and the team management had already expressed their displeasure. Rightly so, considering this piece of gossip is all over the internet. I really thought that I found someone amazing the day I kissed Carrie on the balcony. Like every other relationship of mine, this too has come crashing down on me.
At least I didn’t have to wait a few years and a million dollars spent in gifts to discover this, I snort to myself. But there’s no time to dwell on this new development. There are other important things to focus on, like how to make sure that I get to play in the final.
Walking out to the pool area to get a breath of fresh air and perhaps take a dip in the water, I see Lucy sprawled on the sun bed. She’s wearing a skimpy bikini, trying to get tanned as quickly as possible.
“Hey love,” she calls out.
I absolutely hate it when she calls me that.
“Where is Harry?” I ask.
“He’s taking a nap. Come sit by me.” I also hate the way she tries to command me, but I just go anyway, knowing well that otherwise Lucy will get upset and create more drama. That’s the last thing I needed right now. Besides I don’t want my son to see his parents squabbling, if he were to walk in on us.
“God, I love this sun. I could live here forever,” Lucy says.
Wouldn’t you like that.
“London seems so dreary after this. Even Harry loves it here, I didn’t think he would.”
Using your son to get what you want, your old trick.
“I'm glad you like it here,” I reply politely.
“The Americans just know how to do things right, don’t they? The clubs, the shopping, the restaurants. LA really is all that it’s hyped up to be.”
Lucy’s spent more time going around town than she has with me or Harry. The fringe benefit of that is it gives me a lot of alone time with my boy.
“Come here, David, take a selfie with me,” she props her sunglasses over her head and opens Instagram on her phone. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s selfies.
“Not now Lucy,” I reply.
“Oh, come on, love, my fans would love to see a world famous soccer star taking selfies with his favorite girl,” she smiles.
“It’s called football, not soccer,” I wince.
“You're in America now. When in Rome…” She grins.
Don’t call me love, you selfish woman. I’m already annoyed by how the day has gone so far and Lucy’s chatter isn’t helping. Enough is enough.
“Lucy, you've to stop using me and my fame to further your own interests. These silly reality shows that you keep appearing in won’t work out for you in the long run. You need to think about a serious line of work, if you want to be the superstar you think you are.”
Her smile disappears.
“Do you know how many fans I have?”
“Doesn’t matter. Half of them are probably just creeps who come to ogle all the pictures of your chest that you post.”
She doesn’t reply, just crosses her arms and looks the other way.
“You haven’t called me since I moved here and then suddenly you arrive in America at the pretext of accompanying Harry. Is it just a coincidence then that you were fired from your latest reality show last week?”
Lucy makes a face as if she’s really hurt by my comments.
“David, is that what you think this is?” Her brows furrow. “I came here because I want to be with you. I wanted Harry to be a part of a family. Isn’t it our duty to as parents to give him a good family life?”