Page 33 of Once Upon A Player
I expect her to laugh, but instead she looks intrigued. “I love dragons. That must’ve been so cool, to search for them in the architecture and furnishings.”
It’s the first time anyone’s said that to me. They’re usually mock horrified by my apparent philistine attitude. My parents were bemused by my game, when we were surrounded by such an abundance of rich historical culture, but even at the age of ten I knew my limitations.
Harry was the bright twin. I was the comic relief.
“It was.” I’d even enjoyed the history Mum had been at pains to explain to us, although a week later I’d forgotten most of it. At least, that’d been my excuse when she’d tried discussing our trip with me. It was too much like hard work, especially when Harry knew all the answers without even breaking a sweat.
I could’ve tried harder.Yeah, hindsight is such an unforgiving bitch. I’ll always regret not pushing myself the way Mum wanted me to, but sport was the only subject at school I was any good at.
No idea where that gene came from. The only sport my parents enjoyed was golf.
“I’ll get there one day,” Violet says. “It’s on my bucket list. I mean, ruins are great, don’t get me wrong, but I’d rather visit places that are still standing.”
I force the memories to the back of my mind. There’s no point wishing for a second chance to make things right. And even if that were possible, I couldn’t change anything. I’d always be the anomaly in a family that discussed philosophy and ethics first thing in the morning as an accompaniment to Italian coffee and French croissants.
“Ruins?”
“Dad’s a builder, and he loves all the Roman ruins. We’d go on holiday to Rome to see the Coliseum but never made it to the Palazzo Colonna. My bucket list of places to visit isverylong.”
“You never know. We might go visit them together one day.” And if I’m based in Spain, it’ll be even easier. Violet could fly over and stay with me for an extended holiday.
Shame I can’t share that possibility with her, but in a week or so the deal will be common knowledge.
If I pass my medical.
For the next couple of hours, we explore the park, hand in hand, with me carrying the basket even though she tried to take it from me. She barely reaches my shoulder, her gorgeous hair frames her face beneath the brim of her hat, and she hasn’t checked her makeup once.
“Oh,” she sighs, as we approach the deer park. “They’re so gorgeous. Such big, sad eyes.”
“You could always adopt one.”
“I might just do that.” She goes up on her toes and brushes a kiss on my lips. It’s sexy and tender, and I tug her close, enjoying the moment. I don’t remember the last time I spent the afternoon with a girl when we weren’t hounded by the press.
Then again, I’ve never done anything like this before. Thank fuck the paparazzi don’t hang out in local parks and are more focused on the team leaving for Hong Kong today than on stalking me. I don’t want Violet splashed across the gossip columns when she’s only just agreed to go out with me.
Should I warn her what might happen? I’ve never faced that question before because most of the time the girls on my arm live for the camera and exposure.
I’ve a feeling that conversation comes under theDon’t Fuck This Upbanner. Plenty of time to talk about shit like that another day.
Although I want to spend the rest of the day with her, I’ve an appointment with my agent later this afternoon, as she wants to discuss my image rights ownership and the possibility of setting up my own image company. And tonight I’m flying to Scotland, where I’ve a photo-shoot tomorrow for a Christmas ad. I’ll probably have to stride across the heather wearing nothing but boxer briefs and a pair of boots.
And Friday, after seeing the doctors, I’ll know if my career’s back on track.
Chapter Eleven
Violet
Lucas and I are going on our first real date.He’s booking a table in a classy restaurant.
I’ve not seen him since Wednesday, although we’ve texted and phoned each other a few times. He even sent some pics of himself in the Scottish Highlands, and although hesaidhe was wearing boxers, all I could focus on was his breathtakingly ripped chest, so for all I know, he might’ve been running around the mountains stark naked.
Lucky cattle.
I can’t stop thinking about our kiss, and how he didn’t pressure me to take things further.
And although it would’ve been a lovely fantasy if he’d assured me he wanted more than a brief fling, at least he’s honest and upfront about it.
No strings.
