Clean Point

33 Scottie

33

History Of Man – Maisie Peters

There was something cooling in the June air, a breeze coming from the Thames. After the small supply closet, followed by a quick escape through the busy ballroom, I was more than thankful for the cool wind on my rosy cheeks. Nico had disappeared to find the valet and get us out of there. We’d both agreed we’d had enough for one night. Enough small talk and sucking up to people with their father’s and grandfather’s name.

I hadn’t had a chance to overthink what had happened in the cupboard, but now I was alone outside the gala, I had plenty of time for it.

Nobody could know. That was the one rule of all of this going on between us. They could speculate, take photos and use them to sell their cheap trainers and gym clothes. That was going to happen whether we were really together or not. But they couldn’t know the truth of it.

The second they did, I feared they’d strip me of a part of myself I wasn’t willing to give away or sell any longer. I’d never been in love, always playing fast and loose with my reputation because there was nothing at stake, nothing to protect or to keep just for myself. But now there was Nico, and my heart that beat too quickly when he was around, and the growing anxiety that it was bound to get broken with so much at risk.

It wasn’t only my reputation at stake anymore, something I treated with frivolity, used as a weapon. It was my heart.

‘Scottie.’ I knew that accent. Knew immediately whose voice said my name. I’d heard it a thousand times. I’d heard it in my old kitchen, telling me not to overreact. I’d heard it on the phone on the beach in Rhodes. I’d heard it growing up, yelling at me to get my serve right. I turned too quickly and found my father. His dark brown eyes stared down, thin lips pressed into a thin, assessing line as he took me in. After two years of only seeing me in tabloid photos paired with scandalous headlines, stumbling out of clubs in the arms of strange men, me wearing skirts inches too short or dresses too revealing, it must’ve caught him off guard.

‘Dad.’ The word slipped out from between my lips. Matteo. His name was Matteo.

‘It’s good to see you.’ His arms moved from his side, reaching forward as if to wrap around and pull me into an embrace of all things. I took a step back, keeping my eyes on him. He inhaled a sharp breath, and let his arms relax again, apparently getting the message.

I was frozen to the spot, throat dry as I searched for the right words, but all I could think was how much older he looked, how much thinner. His hair, once a pure black, was now heavily salted with grey, and the thin lines around his eyes have grown more defined. He looked so frail compared to how I last remembered him. In the middle of the kitchen, standing powerful in front of the island counter, his body trying to block the evidence from my view as he still fought to hide the truth of what he had done to me.

‘How are you doing?’ he asked, still looking disappointed that I’d moved away from him.

My hands curled into fists. ‘I’m fine. What are you doing here?’

‘I was invited.’

I forced my reply out through gritted teeth. ‘I mean Wimbledon. Why are you back?’ I thought back to our phone call. His attitude, the bargaining. He wanted me away from Nico and to go back to training with him. ‘I told you to stay away.’

He shrugged, like it was so simple. ‘And I told you to come to London.’

I laughed at the irony, motioning my arms around the tall limestone buildings, the busy London street just ahead of us. Walk for five minutes in any direction and you’ll find yourself at any London landmark. ‘I’m here now, aren’t I?’

‘Not what I meant.’ A bitter smile curled onto his lips as he pressed his hands to his temples in what I was sure was supposed to be disappointment. ‘I was willing to train you again, you know.’

My jaw slackened as I pulled back again, and I looked at him, as if to wait for the punchline to the joke he had clearly just made. When it didn’t deliver, my shock turned to incredulousness. ‘Are you out of your fucking mind?’ I barked another laugh, leaning forward as a disbelieving smile grew. ‘You really think I’d come back after what you did?’

His eyes narrowed on me. ‘You’re my daughter. I know what’s best for you.’

Oh, he was a real comedian now. I wondered if he had an entire stand-up set planned.

‘You think ruining my career – drugging me – is what’s best for me? Jesus, I can’t wait for your guide to raising children.’

His face remained stoney, not seeing the situation the same. ‘Raising a child and a winning athlete are not the same thing.’

‘Is that all I was to you?’ My question hung in the air a moment too long, as if he wasn’t sure what to say. In the end, he left it unanswered. But it didn’t matter. I could see it in the bob of his throat, the way he shifted from foot to foot. I was his daughter, but I was more a legacy, another thing to sit in his award cabinet and look sparkly. He couldn’t even admit it, but I knew.

He coughed, clearing his throat. Taking a step forward, pointing a finger down, he started again. ‘If you want to win, Scottie, you’ve got to be willing to do anything.’

‘I was willing.’ I ground the three words out as if it was painful. Painful that he didn’t see that I gave it everything I had.

He raised a single eyebrow. ‘Clearly, you weren’t.’

The implication was enough to turn my rage up from a simmer to boiling. ‘It doesn’t count if you cheat. That is not winning, that’s not what competition or tennis is about. I don’t want to win if it means breaking the rules to get there. If that level of desperation is truly what it takes to win, then you’re right, I don’t have it. And I don’t want it either.’

He let out a loud sigh, as if he was already exhausted by me. Had considered the past all settled up. ‘Scottie, I was just trying to help.’

‘Help?’ I hissed, almost disgusted at the word. ‘Help is giving somebody a hand when they need it, doing something useful. Not drugging them without consent for months.’

‘I couldn’t watch it all slip past you again.’

I turned at his words, trying to walk away before I was forced to listen to his excuses. But he followed me away from the venue, refusing to stop. ‘You were injured and slow, and it was risking everything we had been working toward. I’ve seen it before, the defeat creeping in. I wasn’t going to let my daughter become a failure. Rossi’s don’t quit.’

A quitter. I thought of all the times I’d run, I’d given up. I’d run for two years, but the first time was that night, when he’d stolen everything from me, when every single thing I’d worked for turned out to be for nothing.

‘I was never a quitter before you. You … you ruined everything.’

‘Ruined?’ He barked a single laugh before his eyes narrowed, the mask of the frail father before me slipping, the hungry competitive beast rearing his head instead. ‘I gave you everything you have. You think you would have made it this far without me?’

A smile crooked on my lips. ‘I made it this far, despite you.’

He took a single step forward, finger pointing down, his expression stony. ‘You only lifted that trophy because of me.’

‘And I lost it because of you.’ I shook my head, feigning disbelief with an almost laugh. ‘When are you going to give up? I’m not yours to play with anymore.’

‘As always, it’s all about you, isn’t it?’ He shook his head, eyes stuck to me. ‘It can’t be about anyone else.’

‘Then who?’ I challenged, itching to really know why he was here, who had fallen into his grasp. ‘Who are you coaching? If you think I’m going to allow you to come back and ruin someone else’s life, then you can think again. Whose life are y—’

I cut off as my eyes caught Dylan stepping out from the building, brown glossy hair down. Without any hesitation in her step, she headed straight over. My throat went dry as she stopped beside Matteo, a sly grin stretching across her blood-red lips.

‘Hello, Scottie.’ Her voice was a light sing-song thing, but I felt anything but jovial. Instead, a pit of regret had ripped open, and I’d fallen through the cracks.

‘I’m sure I don’t need to introduce the two of you,’ Matteo said, but his voice sounded so distant, my attention and horror glued to the women beside him. This was her revenge. She’d always blamed me for what happened, and I’d let her.

But by doing so, I’d sent her directly to the true enemy.

This was her revenge, but it was the wrong kind. It was payback for not telling the truth, for not being strong enough, for taking the easier path, pretending this only affected me when the ripples were still being felt. The consequence of my running.

‘What are you doing with him, Dylan?’

Her eyebrows pressed together as she scoffed at my words. ‘I’m winning, of course.’

I wanted to grab onto both her shoulders and shake her. Shake until she saw the truth and understood who it was she had partnered with. Everything he had done, everything he masterminded, what he had stolen from both of us.

‘Did he tell you what he did?’

‘He didn’t do anything, Scottie. We all knew you’d go changing your story because you want to come back now and play like nothing happened.’

My hands were shaking, fingers rubbing together as I searched for some control in all of this. I couldn’t just scream out the words, but the secret was on the edge of my tongue. I knew if I said it aloud, it would be wasted. There was little chance she’d believed me before, and now that he’d sunk his teeth into somebody else, there was none.

‘Dylan, you need to listen to her.’ Nico’s firm voice was a welcome surprise, the noise wrapping me up, relaxing my tense muscles, even slightly. He appeared beside me, jaw set, his narrowed eyes set on Matteo.

‘Nico, it’s been a while.’ Matteo grinned at his former competitor.

‘Not long enough, if you ask me.’ His voice was a soothing grumble as his attention slid to me, Nico’s eyes searching as if to ask if I was okay. I fought the urge to take his hand, root myself in his stability and protection, and instead, I simply nodded.

Dylan sighed. ‘And here’s Prince Charming coming to her rescue.’ Her nose scrunched up as if the thought disgusted her.

‘Dylan.’ Nico stepped closer to her. ‘You used to be better than this.’

‘You used to be better than working with a cheat, but I guess we all change.’

‘Now, shouldn’t we be nice?’ Matteo interrupted, his calm demeanour leaving me with hives. ‘Let’s just play out on the court. I’m sure it will make for an excellent game.’

I couldn’t help but run my fingers through my hair in frustration. I refused to fall into this man’s trap again. Refused to become a pawn in his game again. I refocused my attention on Dylan, taking a deep breath. ‘I swear right now, you don’t deserve my help. But you can come find me when he fucks this all up for you.’

‘Sure, thanks for the offer,’ she dismissed, but all I could do was hope she would take me up on it, that she would get out earlier than I did.

‘Enjoy your new coach.’ I turned around, meeting Nico’s eyes and making sure he turned with me and didn’t make more of a mess of this situation than it already was. I managed to control my pace, just fast enough to get away from them, but without looking like we were running for the hills.

‘Enjoy fucking your doubles partner,’ Dylan shouted, louder than necessary. ‘Can’t wait to see what kind of mess that gets you into.’

We slipped into the back of a car so quickly I had to rely on Nico to confirm that it was the correct driver, desperate to get away, desperate to wrap myself up in him and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.