Page 6 of Once Upon A Player
“Jesus, Lucas.” Yolanda leans over the workbench, and I grip the vacuum.Here it comes. “You don’t haveanything. No coffee, not even a teabag. I’mdyinghere.”
Right. Not what I was expecting. I dart a glance between them. He introduced her as his mate, and not in the David Attenborough sense, either. Are they really just friends?
As Lucas sighs and joins her in the kitchen, I feel kind of bad about my uncharitable thoughts toward him just now. Not that it really makes any difference. There was never a chance in hell that I was going to accept his offer to go out with him.
…
Lucas
An hour later, Yolanda and I are sitting outside a coffee house in one of the back streets of Hampstead Village. The road is narrow and pedestrianized, with cracked paving slabs, and baskets of flowers hang above the shop windows.
Not my usual scene at all, but it’s kind of peaceful.
Yolanda sits opposite me, wearing her trademark enormous black sunglasses and massive sunhat, which manage to completely hide her face. She takes a sip of her espresso before letting out a long sigh. “Better.”
A couple of girls stroll along the road and do a double take when they see me. From pure reflex I give them a smile, which makes them clutch each other’s arms and giggle. It’s a relief when they don’t stop by our table and ask to take a few selfies, and I shift position so I’m angled toward the coffee house instead of the ambling pedestrians and adjust my cap for some anonymity.
“I can’t believe Violet Henderson is theonlygirl who’s ever said no to you.”
“First one in seven years.” I throw Yolanda a mocking grin because itiskind of funny. I’m under no delusion as to why girls want to go out with me. It’s all about being seen and going to the right places, but hey, I’m down for that. It’s all part of the deal, and it’s not like I don’t get plenty of action in return.
“Oh my God.” Even though I can’t see her eyes, I know she’s rolling them dramatically. “So now she’s become a challenge, is that it?”
“No.” Even though she declined mythirdoffer to take her out, this time for a coffee with Yolanda and me, in favor of vacuuming the room like her life depended on it, I still get the vibe her refusals are more of a front than anything else.
She deflected, and I want to find out why.
“Maybe she just isn’t interested. Did that cross your mind?”
“I need a new angle.”
“You need a new hobby.”
“No.” A brainwave hits. Violet told me it went against company policy to accept a date with me, and I thought she was joking. Maybe she wasn’t? Especially with the family connection. “What Ineedis an interior designer to work on my apartment.”
“I’m not seeing the connection.”
“She’s studying interior design. I could hire her services.”
“Desperado.” Yolanda smirks before draining her espresso. “Bet you ten quid she turns down the commission.”
“You’re supposed to be my mate.”
“I’m saving you from being a prat.” She glances at her watch. “Anyway, I have to dash. Got that shoot for the newIzabelleperfume this afternoon.”
“Catch you later.” We kiss each other’s cheek, and she strolls along the road, not that I can sit here for much longer.
Four years ago, my teammate Jax and I set up the Rainbow Star Foundation to help grant wishes to sick kids and raise money for children’s charities. Our high profiles ensure many celebrities are happy to pitch in, and while it’s no secret we’re heavily involved in the foundation, not many people are aware we’re the ones behind it. I can’t work in a lab to fight deadly disease the way my mum did, but at least I can help fund the research.
In an hour, Jax and I are visiting Toby, one of the first kids our foundation helped. He was only eight and battling leukemia, and his biggest wish was to meet Jax and me. He’s a great kid, and we kept in contact over the years and always drop in to wish him happy birthday.
And this afternoon I have another physio appointment.
I straighten my leg and my knee twinges, but I was lucky. The reconstruction surgery five months ago went without any complications, and in another six weeks, barring no unforeseen glitch, I’ll be back on the bench.
Not United’s bench, though.A month ago, one of the biggest clubs in Spain made an offer for me. Negotiations are still being thrashed out between my agent and the clubs, and until I sign on the dotted line, I’ve been sworn to secrecy.
I’ve been with United since I was seventeen, and I love the club, but it’s time to stretch myself and move on.As long as my knee doesn’t let me down.
