Page 47 of Home Town Advantage
“Thanks. Will do.”
I’ve just exitedthe train in Rome and am in a cab on my way to Shane’s apartment a day ahead of schedule. I’m going to enjoy my week with the man I’ve spent the past eighteen monthswith, and then I’ve decided to tell him that it’s time for us to go our separate ways. I think he’ll be heartbroken, but it’s for the best. I’m hopeful it will be amicable, and we can remain friends.
I arrive at his nice, five-story apartment building and Tetris my big suitcase and me into the tiny elevator. I’ve learned that elevators in Italy are way smaller than those in the US, even in a glamorous apartment building like his. I wonder if they’re like that everywhere in Europe. I’ve never been anywhere else.
He has moved since the one and only time I visited last year. He was in a nice apartment building then, but this one is even better. The EuroLeague must pay its players well.
I exit the elevator, wheel my bag to Shane’s apartment, and knock. After a few seconds, the door is opened by a stunning Italian woman around my age. She’s in only a T-shirt that comes to her mid-thigh. I’m about to look at the apartment number again, assuming I’m in the wrong spot, when I realize the T-shirt she’s wearing is the same Beavers T-shirt that Shane wore to my game when he visited. I would know, I gifted it to him.
“Who is it, babe?” I hear Shane ask before the door widens, but not nearly as much as his eyes do when they find me. A shirtless Shane stutters, “S…Sulley. You’re…you’re umm…umm a day early.”
Yep, because that’s the problem here.
At least I now know for sure that my thoughts over the past few days about breaking things off with him were right on the mark. If I was on the fence, I no longer am. Not because he’s a cheating asshole, but because I genuinely don’t give a fuck that he’s a cheating asshole. I’m standing here with a half-naked girl in my boyfriend’s apartment, and the only thing running through my mind is that I don’t want to be half-naked with him anymore. She can have him. I’m done with the narcissist.
The girl smiles innocently. In heavily Italian-accented English, she says, “I’m sorry. Who are you?”
Honestly, she looks nice. Like someone I would be friends with. I have no ill will toward her. I hate it when women blameother women for cheating boyfriends. It makes no sense to me. This woman doesn’t owe me anything. Shane does. She clearly has no idea who I am and this sucks for her as much as it does for me. Maybe more.
Hmm. So many things I could do right now. I could yell and scream. I could turn around and walk away. Or maybe I should channel my inner Kennedy and have a little fun on my way out. Watch the weasel squirm a bit before I make my grand exit.
I offer a huge grin and hold out my hand. “I’m Sulley. Shane’s cousin.” I look at a visibly shocked Shane. “Silly, you forgot I was visiting, didn’t you? So typical.”
“Oh…umm…yes. I…forgot.”
“Aren’t you going to invite me in,cuz?”
Shane’s mouth opens and closes a few times. He looks like a fish. It’s almost comical. How was I ever attracted to him? I’m also realizing he’s lost a lot of muscle mass since I last saw him. Clearly he hasn’t been working out. He’s suddenly so unattractive to me.
The woman pulls me inside and wraps me in a huge hug. “Oh my god, I’m sorry I didn’t know you were coming, but I’m so excited to meet a member of my Shane’s family. Please excuse the mess. Our housekeeper is off this week.”
I look around. It’s a massive apartment, and it’s not messy at all. It’s luxurious and looks like a decorator designed it. What the hell? Where does he get this kind of money? I can’t imagine it’s cheap to live in Rome. Maybe I’m wrong.
She continues, “I’m going on vacation with my family this week to Greece. We leave tonight. I wasn’t going to go because I’d miss Shane, but he encouraged me to.” She squeezes Shane’s hand as she grins widely. “He’s so good to my family. I’m beyond thrilled to meet a member of his. I wish I could stay and show you the beauty of Roma.”
“Oh darn, I would have loved that,” I lie. Deciding to prod further, I ask, “Why isn’t Shane going with your family?”
She looks adoringly at him. “My man is such a hard worker.He’s got practices all week. I know how much he loves to practice. He’s going to be a huge star.”
Shane doesn’t have practice this week. They’re off. He was supposed to be with me all week, seeing the sights around Rome and then traveling to Venice for a romantic few days. What an asshole.
“Such a hard worker, my cousin. Never takes time off for a little fun,” I deadpan at Shane. “That must be why you’resosuccessful. He’s always telling me,practice makes perfect,” I say in a deep, mocking voice.
The truth is, Shane isn’t a hard worker. He had the raw talent to play professionally in the US, but he didn’t have the work ethic. Not what you need to take your game to that truly elite level. I massaged his ego when he didn’t get drafted, even though I always knew the truth deep down inside. So did the teams in the US.
The woman naively smiles as she nods in agreement, not realizing I was being sarcastic.
“Well, I’ve clearly caught you by surprise, and I’ve got a little jetlag. I’m going to head over to my hotel. Cuz, do you want to help me take my suitcase downstairs?”
He looks like a deer in headlights. “Sure.”
He starts to walk out, but I hold up my hand. “Put a shirt on.” I scrunch my face as I point to his chest. “I don’t want to see my cousin like that.”
The nameless woman giggles as Shane quickly runs toward what I assume is the bedroom. I say to her, loud enough for Shane to hear, “What’s your phone number? We should stay in touch.”
She squeals in excitement as Shane runs out of his bedroom in the midst of pulling down a T-shirt. “No need. I’ll give you her number.”
“Nonsense, cuz. I’ll send her some cute pics of you as a kid. What’s your number?”
