Page 63 of Once Upon A Player
Oh, my heart. How adorable is that?
Sam gives a loud, long-suffering sigh. “Isupposeso.”
“How about I give your sister some specially signed swag for you? From my new club?”
Sam’s eyes light up, and it takes another few minutes of endless questions from my brother and patient explanations from my boyfriend before Sam allows us to leave.
I snatch up my overnight bag from the foot of the stairs, and as Dad closes the door behind us, he gives me a small nod. Not that it would make any difference if he didn’t approve of Lucas or anything, but I’m glad he likes him.
Honestly, if I weren’t already besotted by him, the way he treated my brother would’ve tipped the scales. All Geoff did when Sam went football crazy on him was pat his head like he was a drooling puppy.
“You’ve got a fan for life with Sam now,” I tell Lucas as I get in the car.
He shoots me a smile that makes me want to forget about meeting his dad and go straight to his penthouse. “He’s great.”
“He has his moments,” I concede. “Mum said hi. She’s sorry she couldn’t see you, but she’s a bit under the weather.”
He glances at me. “Is she okay?”
I have the scary urge to tell him the truth—that I don’t know and we’re hoping her specialist can wave a magic wand on Thursday. But I know from bitter experience that generally people don’t want to talk about stuff like that, and while my friends at school were always sympathetic—up until the Great Betrayal—the most acceptable answer to this question is alwaysshe’ll be fine, thanks.
Not that Lucas is anything like my former friends, and Katie’s always been fantastic, but still. Once I start talking about Mum I’ll get all upset andover-emotional, as my shitty ex once told me, and right now is hardly the time or place.
“Not really.” Fuck. Where did that come from? I scrabble to backtrack before he wants to know more details. “Well, you know. I mean she’ll be fine.”
Since we’re obviously serious now, with the whole promise of a long-distance relationship, Iamgoing to tell him about Mum’s health issues, but I need to find the right moment.
Maybe Thursday, once we’ve got the latest from her specialist.
…
Lucas
I glance at Violet, but she’s staring straight ahead and clearly has no intention of saying any more about her mum. Is there any more? Or am I imagining it?
Since I don’t want to explore that possibility—as it’ll inevitably suck me into the pit of my brain where jagged memories of my own mum lurk—I change the subject.
“My mate Jax is doing a leaving party on Thursday night.” He called to tell me that earlier today. Thursday is cutting it fine, since he and the rest of the lads won’t be back from tour until that morning, but it suits me. “Please don’t tell me you’ve got a shift at Sycamore Lodge that night.”
I toss her a grin, because it’s a rhetorical comment. There’s no way I’m going to my own leaving party without Violet.
“No, I’m free.” She smiles back, and I hold her hand for a few seconds until I need to change gear. “Is that Jax from your club?”
“The same. He’s great.”
“So, he’s another one who’s nothing like his public rep?” Her tone is teasing, and I laugh.
“Yeah, but don’t let him know I told you that. He’s very proud of that rep.”
It doesn’t take long before we arrive at my family home in Notting Hill. Harry’s Range Rover is parked on the drive, and I pull up behind it.
“I love this house.” Violet’s gazing out of the window with a rapt expression. I’ve never given the place I grew up in a second thought before, but I guess the Tudor-Gothic styleiskind of impressive.
“Wait until you see inside. Most of the furniture’s ancient.”
“Oh, wow.” There’s a reverential note in her voice, and I have the sudden, crazy, vision of showing her Mum’s office, with all the Queen Anne furniture that Violet loves so much.
Not fucking likely.Don’t even know why I thought it. I haven’t been in that room for six years.
