Chapter 13
13
After the last guest has left, Monica makes a point of giving a thank-you speech to the staff. It’s a nice gesture, especially since the annual party has to be a strain, given Monica prefers spreadsheets to small talk. My presence can’t make it any easier, so I slip outside. I pull the front door closed as softly as I can, and wrap my arms tight around my waist. I’d like to say that’s a reflex response to the cool of the evening, but it’s more that I’ve felt empty ever since Tony strolled out of the kitchen. Looking down at the York-stone path, my eyes even start to well up with sorry-for-myself tears.
Crying alone on my ex-husband’s golf-course-perfect lawn would be the definition of pathetic. And I’m not pathetic any more. Unwrapping my arms, I remember that men are not compatible with the capable, in-control version of me, that’s all. Or not men like Tony, anyway. So I’ll stay away from him, unless it’s work, obviously. There you go. Simple, problem sorted. Tears gone.
I head for the side of the house. Earlier, the cobbles surrounding the red-brick garage were awash with luxury vehicles. Now, there are only staff cars left, apart from LeMar’s Merc and a shiny black Range Rover. And leaning against the driver’s door, there’s Tony, looking dangerously handsome in the twilight.
‘There’s no need to wait. Monica let the players go ages ago,’ I call across. I’m sure he knows that already, but I need to hurry him away. The needy, useless, not-in-control version of me isn’t buried deep enough yet for a one-on-one.
‘Yeah, only I wanted a word before I left.’ It’s his normal voice, no louder, but even from the other side of the yard, I can hear him clearly against the soft quiet that comes when there are no near neighbours.
I totter across, using the stones as an excuse to look down, as I ask, ‘Is there something you need?’ like I’m expecting a work request.
Tony waits until I’m close enough, he’d only need to reach out a hand to touch me. ‘Just to apologize, I reckon.’ There’s a lopsided smile. ‘Which you must be well fed-up with, cos I’m making a bit of a habit of it where you’re concerned.’
I look up at him and get lost for a minute. I must’ve triggered the security system, because Tony’s bathed in gold-green light. It’s so close to how he looks under floodlights, it brings back all the times I’ve watched him play and drifted into imagining us alone together. That’s profoundly unhelpful when I’m trying to project cool and capable. And when I ask, ‘Apologize for what?’ it’s less business-like than I was aiming for.
‘Saying the wrong thing.’
I’m not sure if he means calling me a bitch or the sexual suggestions, neither of which I particularly object to.
‘About the gloves.’ His face is cringingly uncomfortable. ‘You told me once you don’t appreciate that, being told how you should behave, and then I goes and does it again.’ He looks down at his shoes. ‘Sorry. It ruined it, didn’t it?’
It shocks me that he can connect the thing with the house key and me pulling my hand away, and if not quite get to the right answer, come pretty close. Because it’s not exactly that I resent being told what to do, more that I hate it when men dress up instructions and interfering as caring. But even if Tony’s slightly off target, it absolutely stuns me that he, Tony Garratt, soccer superstar and tabloid darling, understands it matters enough to be genuinely sorry. Before I can stop myself, I’m looking up at him under my lashes. ‘Nothing’s ruined.’
‘Promise?’
‘Promise.’ My voice’s gone soft and sweet as the smell of honeysuckle, cascading over the wall of the garage. Damn it.
He grins broadly, the penance of a moment ago washed away. ‘Great. And I know I’m on thin ice with this, but am I allowed to ask if you’re cold?’
He’s so unselfconsciously relieved, I feel incredibly immature for being scared of letting him see I want him. That’s not me. That’s old Genie, who started dressing like a nun the second Gavin dropped a few hints that tailored clothes made her look cheap. New Genie allows herself to be attractive and attracted. Within limits. Limits that guarantee old, unattractively clingy Genie stays firmly locked away. With Tony, that means light flirtation, no touching and, apparently, no washing-up. Fine. New Genie can stick to that. She’s excellent at boundaries.
I narrow my eyes. ‘So long as you’re not about to tell me I should’ve brought a coat, you’re fine.’
He laughs. ‘Wouldn’t dare. But I’ve got a jacket in the car, if you wants it?’
I’m about to refuse when I realize, one, that would be churlish, and two, I’m chilly. Turning Tony down to prove I loathe being looked after would be ridiculous. ‘Yes, please.’
Tony comes dangerously close to giving me a ‘you’re a good girl’ smile, but manages to rein it in. He leans in to hunt around in the back of the car, providing me with a pleasant reminder of what hours of fitness training can achieve on a body. The late summer evening with the start of stars twinkling has a movie-like quality, and I’m half expecting something beautifully cut in lambswool. Only this is reality, so Tony actually holds out a first-team training jacket, steel grey, waterproof, and deeply unglamorous. But he helps me into it, his hands slipping over my shoulders, and I have to say, that feels nice. And standing side by side with our backs against the cool metal of the car, wearing something that smells of his aftershave, it’s almost like I’m Tony’s girl.
That feels much, much too nice. New Genie is not as good with boundaries as she’d led me to believe. Got to get those fences back up. ‘Sky’s giving me a lift. There’s no need to wait, if you’re ready to leave.’
He shrugs lazily. ‘I don’t mind, or I can give you a ride, if you want.’
I tell him Sky’s expecting me, and I think I maybe manage to avoid sounding regretful. Tony doesn’t say anything back, but his shoulder stays almost touching mine. We stare up at the crescent moon, until he turns his face to me. ‘By the way, that doc and the Craigs earlier, they were talking about a Charlotte. Isn’t that your name?’
And that’s all the dreaminess gone.
‘Yes.’ My voice is sharp and my back has gone fence-post straight. He won’t let me break his gaze. I shrug and make an uncomfortable little movement with my mouth. I try to make myself relax, so I’ll sound back to normal. ‘The name Genie came from a joke I used to have with Gary King, when I first started at the club. He’d ask for something, something crazy usually, a life-sized foam elephant, that sort of thing. And I’d find it and then we’d go through a whole “your wish is my command” routine.’ I look at my hands. ‘It was just a game, but the Genie thing stuck.’
Only it wasn’t just a game. It was Gary making sure I had the contacts I needed to do my job, and his way of giving a shy little mouse the confidence necessary to do it well. And Gavin absolutely hated it.
Tony’s shoulder bumps mine. ‘That’s kind of sweet.’ He waits a moment, then looks away. ‘You and Gary, was that a thing?’
My voice is adamant. ‘No, not at all. He’s just a nice guy.’
Tony nods. ‘Yeah, sounds like maybe he is.’ He pulls a face. ‘Can’t say I’d have guessed it from playing against him, but there you go.’
I laugh, glad that the tension’s gone. ‘His defending was a little old school.’
Tony laughs back. ‘You can say that again. I was lucky to come out of some of them games with any shinbones left, I can tell you.’ He stays staring ahead, but his voice changes to softly enquiring, like when he’s probing the defence, looking for a weak spot. ‘Do you mind if I ask you something else?’
I try to stay jokey. ‘That depends on what it is.’
He smiles, but it’s obvious he doesn’t plan on getting distracted. ‘Well, you don’t have to answer, if you don’t wanna. But have you been ill or something?’
‘No, not in the least. Whatever gave you that idea?’
Even from his profile, I can tell he’s uncomfortable. ‘When I had to go look at that stuff with the doc. He and them blokes, the Craigs, they were talking ’bout Charlotte, and I just got the impression, like maybe there’d been an issue, or something.’
I give an exasperated sigh. I can imagine exactly what was said. Lots of coy questions. Was I doing better? Had I started to sort myself out? All in hushed tones, like I’d had a breakdown. Which would be maddening even if I’d been remotely in that kind of state after the divorce. But I wasn’t. Being discarded like yesterday’s socks left a few scars on my pride, but that’s it. There’s absolutely no reason for Gavin and the Craigs to go on like I’m damaged. And the best way to prove it is to be completely casual.
‘It’s nothing, a misunderstanding maybe, that’s all. Can we leave it?’ That didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. I sound, even to myself, edgy.
Tony makes a move with his hand like he’s sweeping something away. ‘Yeah, course.’ It looks like he doesn’t know what to say, but then he gives me a sly smile. ‘So, if we’re not going to talk ’bout that, and we’re going to be hanging round waiting for Sky, how ’bout you clarify the rules of this no fraternization thing.’
It’s probably a hangover from thinking about Gavin, but suddenly I’m dead set on proving I’m not a scared little mouse any more. So, my voice is every bit as flirty as my smile, when I ask, ‘What exactly are you unclear on?’
‘Katia and LeMar, for a start.’
‘They were already together when we hired her. Monica made an exception.’
‘So, it’s no dating, no serious relationships, yeah?’
‘That’s right.’
Tony smiles his best naughty schoolboy smile. ‘What about stuff that’s just fun, then?’
‘You’ve met Monica, so you must realize she especially frowns on fun,’ I grin, meeting his direct gaze.
‘Good point. But, like, where are the boundaries of that?’ he asks, his face mock serious now.
‘For example?’ I quip.
Tony steps to face me and, without putting a hand on me, kisses my forehead. It’s light, a brush of his lips on my skin, but it’s enough to make my throat tighten. ‘Would that cross the line?’
Given that all I can think about is how badly I want to reach up and start unbuttoning his shirt, it would. But a forehead kiss could fall within the realms of goal celebration, so I shake my head. ‘No, I think that would be considered acceptable.’
‘OK, good to know. How about this?’
His lips graze my cheek, and if it’s not quite a greeting between acquaintances, it’s close enough. Which means I can shake my head again. ‘No, I think that’s still all right.’
He smiles softly. ‘Then I reckon this should be too?’
This time, his lips touch mine, but it’s a closed-mouth, gentle sort of kiss. And if I’m having trouble keeping my breathing steady, that’s more about Tony’s closeness than the kiss itself.
‘That’s probably on the borderline.’
He looks serious. ‘Is it? That’s a pity, cos there’s this thing you do in meetings that gets me all distracted. Where you stroke along here.’ He runs a finger along my neck and smiles at my sharp intake of breath, his teeth white in the half-light. ‘And you’ve got me worried, this might not be quite kosher neither.’ He leans in and runs his mouth along the line traced by his finger, the roughness of stubble mixed in with the softness of his lips.
I manage to say, ‘No, I think anything below the chin is out,’ but my voice isn’t as firm as it should be.
‘Shame. And, just so I’m one hundred per cent clear, how ’bout this?’
His hand is on the back of my neck, his thumb stroking where he knows is sensitive, as he kisses me hard on the mouth, his tongue probing between my lips. I should push him away, or at least politely disentangle myself. But I don’t and in the end, it’s Tony who slows the pace until we’re not kissing any more, but his forehead is against mine. ‘That still counts as a kiss between mates, right?’
I try to laugh lightly. ‘No, no, sadly I don’t think it does.’
Tony’s smile is wide. ‘OK, I think I’ve got it then. Me kissing you, that’s fine. It’s you kissing me back that makes it a problem.’
I side-step away and I’m not smiling any more. ‘Actually, that’s absolutely right. Which is why my contract has the fraternization clause and yours doesn’t.’
He looks at me, head on one side. His face is genuinely serious, not the play solemnity of a few minutes ago. ‘Yeah, well, I get why that pisses you off.’
I try to soften my voice. ‘You don’t make the rules though, do you?’
He shakes his head. ‘No, love, I don’t. But I’ve got pretty good at breaking ’em without getting found out. So, if you ever fancy trying out being bad Genie, just for a bit of a change, you knows where I am.’
As he says it, he glances up at the security camera, high on the wall of the garage, and I realize we’re standing in the only blind spot. Tony almost certainly worked that out when he was first deciding where to put his car. And yes, I fully understand that should be a warning sign, but right now, I’m too floaty to care. So OK, you might have a point. New Genie absolutely sucks at boundaries.