Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
NOAH
‘Woohoo, I feel amazing after that,’ Evie said as she raised her glass of champagne at the bar afterwards. ‘Wasn’t that just amazing? I can’t wait to see the pictures and the video. That was just awesome.’
But I’d crashed back down to earth.
Hanging off the side of a skyscraper wasn’t a good look while Rick Menzies was looking at the end of his career.
I wasn’t supposed to be enjoying myself and getting a headrush of adrenaline.
I was supposed to be showing remorse. Showing that I was someone that had learned his lesson from playing too hard and aggressively.
The crunch of bones replayed in my head. I shouldn’t be doing stuff like this.
I certainly didn’t deserve to be having a good time when someone would never play football again, thanks to me.
And Rick was a pertinent reminder that, to use a soccer analogy, I couldn’t afford to take my eye off the ball.
I needed to focus on getting back to playing.
The whole point of being with Evie was for the Hallmark moments to show I was a nice guy really and getting the rest of my match ban overturned.
Every game I didn’t play was potentially career damaging.
It only took another player to shine in my absence and take my place.
It only took a few disastrous decisions, and I could lose it all.
I wasn’t going to let that happen, I’d worked too hard and let my family make too many sacrifices.
‘Here you go. Congratulations.’ Evie lifted her glass and toasted us both. ‘To the next adventure.’
‘I’m not sure there should be another adventure,’ I said, rubbing at my temple.
‘What do you mean?’ Although she’d asked the question, her eyes were sympathetic.
‘There’s a guy lying in a hospital room because of me, and I’m hanging off skyscrapers.’ I sighed.
She leaned over and put a hand over mine. ‘Noah, you do know you’re still allowed to have a life?’
‘Yeah, but the point of this…’ I indicated Evie then me with my hand, ‘is supposed to be something else. Making me look good. Like a responsible, nice guy. Not rubbing the guy’s nose in it.’
‘Did you have fun?’
I gave her a reluctant smile. ‘Yeah, more than you, I think, but I’m supposed to be a role model. Kids look up to me and I should be showing them that I’m trying to be better.’
‘You’re allowed to be human,’ said Evie. ‘You’re allowed to live a life.’
‘Given your history, I think you’re the last person to give advice,’ I said and immediately regretted it.
Evie’s face fell and then she jutted her chin out trying to style it out, but I knew I’d hurt her.
‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.’
She shrugged. ‘No, you shouldn’t have but you did, because that’s what you really think of me, isn’t it? That I’m a thief and don’t think about the consequences of things.’
‘Look, I’m sorry. I’m taking my guilt out on you.’
She glared at me for a full thirty seconds before tilting her head to one side. ‘At least you’re honest about it. So I’ll forgive you…’ She paused. ‘But it’s a one-time deal, you arse.’
‘Fair enough,’ I said. ‘I’m real sorry.’
‘You’ve said it. We move on now,’ said Evie matter-of-factly.
I studied her expression, but she seemed sincere which made me feel even more shitty for being such a dick.
‘Still want my help shopping for gifts?’ she asked.
If I hadn’t spent a fair bit of time with her, I would have missed that tiny plaintive note of hope in her voice. Evie was desperate for approval. I suspected that in her own way she was as guilt-ridden as I was.
‘Yes,’ I said decisively, earning a quick look of surprise from her. ‘My mom is going to be thrilled. You can help me choose something for my sister and my nephews. And I need to grab a Christmas decoration from the shop here before we leave.’
Her face brightened and she picked up her phone.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked, impressed by her quick change of mood. It was refreshing to find someone who didn’t bear a grudge. I thought of Rick in his hospital bed – who had every right to bear one.
She grinned at me. ‘Figuring out just how rich you are.’
‘I earn well.’ I’d already made an anonymous donation to Rick via the Players Association, because his income was going to take a catastrophic hit.
‘Woo! It says here Premier League footballers earn around sixty thousand a week.’
Again, I winced thinking of how Rick’s loss of career would impact on his lifestyle.
‘Hello, earth to Noah.’ Evie waved a hand in my face. ‘Do you really earn that sort of cash?’
I shrugged.
‘You do!’ She beamed. ‘Hell, yeah, we’re going shopping. I’ll help you find a present for your sister and her family.’
* * *
After interrogating me about my sister for half an hour, insisting on seeing her Facebook and Instagram pages, Evie declared herself ready, having ordered a second round of champagne. I think she’d have ordered a third if she wasn’t the type to sit still for too long.
Before we retraced our steps back to Fifth Avenue, I picked up a couple of decorations from the Edge shop as souvenirs for me, my sister and my mom.
‘Are you one of those guys whose body is a temple?’ she asked suddenly, startling me with another one of her random questions.
‘I watch my nutrition but I’m not evangelical about it,’ I said, wondering where this was leading.
‘And how do you feel about eating in the street?’
‘I don’t have a problem.’
‘And how do you feel about buying me my very first New York hot dog?’
I groaned. ‘Seriously? That is the most roundabout way of asking someone to buy you lunch I’ve ever heard.’
‘I know.’ She shot me a winsome grin. ‘Cute, eh? It’s only so that I can say on Insta that Noah bought me my first New York hot dog.’
‘It wouldn’t do to be factually inaccurate, I guess,’ I said, pulling out my wallet.
‘Also, you’re the one with the bucks. If it was an expensive meal, I’d insist on going halves.’
Her logic and blunt honesty amused me. It was also a novelty. Most of my dates never even questioned who should pay.
We swung by a hot-dog cart on the corner of Fifth and Thirty-Seventh.
‘Mustard or ketchup?’ I asked.
‘Mustard,’ she said. ‘The bright yellow stuff. And onions, please.’
I paid for the dogs and handed her one. The smell made my stomach rumble, but before we were allowed to take a single bite, she had to get her Insta shot.
Then we wandered along, chomping happily in companionable silence – I’ve always thought that an overrated expression but it really did feel companionable.
I didn’t feel the need to talk and Evie, her head turning this way and that, was clearly enjoying the festive atmosphere that spilled out from every single shop we passed.
Eventually we arrived at Saks, discarding our sticky napkins in one of the trash cans on the sidewalk.
‘Right,’ she said, and pushed up imaginary shirt sleeves. ‘You ready for this?’
‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’ I huffed out a resigned sigh, more to make her laugh than anything else. ‘Be gentle with me.’
The storefront was decked out with hundreds of fairy lights hanging from every surface, sparkling in the fading light.
‘Right, I think your sister would appreciate a really smart handbag, for the days she gets to be a grown-up.’
‘You mean a purse,’ I interrupted.
‘Purse, handbag.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘But big enough to carry around all the mum stuff she might need if her kids are around. I’m guessing she likes a bit of luxury now and then.’
I nodded, once again her logic was impeccable and I liked her no-nonsense assessment.
‘I think a frivolous colour.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘What’s wrong with black?’
‘Nooo!’ she said, clearly horrified. ‘A gift should always be something you love but would never buy for yourself because it’s too much of an extravagance or impractical – a busy mum is always focused on the practical.
So, the gift should be something delightfully frivolous but still functional. So not navy or black or tan.’
‘Okay,’ I repeated, folding my arms.
She tugged at them. ‘Stop doing that.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Standing like you’re a bodyguard or something. You look forbidding.’
‘Good,’ I said with a smirk.
‘How do you expect me to do frivolity if you’re being forbidding.’
I dropped my arms by my side. ‘Frivolous but functional,’ I repeated. ‘Not navy, black or tan. Got you.’
‘So, the frivolity is in the colour, I’m thinking,’ said Evie sagely, her face contorted as she considered various options. ‘And as you’re paying. It definitely has to be designer.’
By the end of her second circuit of the bag department, she’d disrupted six displays and stood almost equidistant from them all in the middle of the shop floor.
‘So, there’s the orange Ralph Lauren – quite a bold choice.
The teal-blue Kate Spade, which is classy.
The burgundy Coach, which is a bit staid but a safe choice.
The dark-purple-almost-blue Marc Jacobs, which is a lot of fun.
And the red Ferragamo, which is the most gorgeous statement and very Christmassy. ’
She looked at me expectantly.
And I looked back at her.
‘Now it’s your turn.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s your gift to her, so you have to make the final choice. I’ve narrowed it down for you but you have to pick one.’
I glanced at the purses with a touch of panic. Seriously? They were purses. She was the expert.
‘Breathe. Don’t overthink it. Go with your gut. If I held a gun to your head and said pick one now or I’ll chop your left leg off, which one would you choose.’
‘You can’t chop a leg off with a gun.’
‘Stop stalling, Sanderson. Pick now.’
‘The teal blue.’
‘Why?’
‘Because she’ll love that colour and I know diddly about handbags.’ I put on a faux English accent to highlight our cultural differences.
‘Don’t worry about the handbag. That’s my department. Excellent choice, by the way.’ Once the purchase was made, Evie insisted on carrying the smart shopping bag, swinging it with great gusto when we left the store.
‘Now, who else do we need to buy for?’
I glanced down at her animated face, amused by the we. ‘My nephews, Barney and Oscar, and a couple of others.’
‘This is going to be so much fun.’ She skipped beside me. Actually skipped.
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help thinking that spending time with Evie was a lot of fun.