15. Ava
We land about thirty minutes after the team was supposed to touch down, and Charlie rents a car that is sleek and oh-so-comfortable. I can’t complain, because I’ve just flown over three hours and have no new aches or a crick in my neck from trying to get a nap.
My conversation with Charlie was eye opening, and I’m still trying to compare his comments about being middle to lower class growing up and still being a decent human being now that he has money.
“Do you have the address to where we’re staying?” Charlie asks me, pulling up the maps app. I find it somewhere in my emails and read it off to him.
It’s only a fifteen-minute drive, and much of the drive was in an easy silence.
“So, what does this elite training camp consist of?” Charlie asks, looking really sexy as he guides the car along the route with his left wrist. His wrist is on top of the wheel and his body is turned slightly toward me, which is a lot more inviting than my ex-boyfriend’s machismo.
“Well, there will be grass, a few nets. I’m assuming several dozen buckets of balls,” I say, trying to keep a straight face.
“Okay, touché. What do you think the girls will have to do there?”
I try to remember the one camp I went to. It wasn’t out of state and definitely wasn’t anything fancy, but I’d loved every minute of it.
“A lot of drills, running, and grading their playing and coachability.”
“What do we do with the information?” Charlie asks.
“It’s used as feedback to get better. But the best part is that there will be some college coaches there. Our girls will probably be the youngest, but it’s always a good thing to start the recruiting process early.”
We make it to the house we’d rented for the week-long adventure. “Wow, I can’t believe Marsha found a place like this in our budget. You didn’t pay for it, did you?”
He raises his hands like I’ve got a shotgun pressed to his middle and says, “I didn’t pay for this one.”
I don’t know if I believe him, but can I really get mad that I won’t be shuffling past a couple of girls for a week straight, stepping over the clothes and shoes they just leave all around in a hotel room? Definitely not.
We head up and walk inside to a dance party. All the girls are in the large front room dancing to songs that are only slightly familiar.
“You made it,” Marsha says, from the kitchen, slicing an apple.
“Yes, we did,” I say, setting down my bags. My shoulder hurts from the duffle bag.
“Okay, well, let me show you to your rooms. The girls have already claimed the loft and two rooms here below.” Marsha walks around the counter and waves for us to follow.
I hope there is a large tub in this place because I need to soak and get my senses back to normal. All the anxiety from the day has zapped my energy. Although I can’t say it was all bad. Spending that much time with Charlie was definitely a plus.
Marsha opens a door to a queen bed. “Charlie, this is your room. Hopefully it’s far enough away from any shrieking that you’ll at least be able to make business calls without people thinking someone is dying.”
I chuckle at that. One girl, Hadley, likes to pretend she’s an ancient pterodactyl with the high-pitched screech and everything.
“Thank you. That will definitely help this week.”
He walks in and sets one of his bags on the bed, but I see little more because Marsha has pulled on my arm and is tugging me in the other direction.
“Marsha, what’s the rush?”
“Just showing you to your room. Why?” Her mischievous grin has me thinking she’s got other plans.
“Because my hand is going to lose circulation and fall off if you don’t stop squeezing.”
Marsha glances down at her hand on mine and lets go. “Sorry about that.”
She leads me into what I’m guessing is the primary suite. There”s a giant king-sized bed and a walk-in closet and a shower, tub, and vanity bigger than my entire room at home.
“I’m sharing with you, if that’s okay,” Marsha says.
“Of course, I don’t think I need all this. How did you pay for it?” I ask, waiting to hear some white lie that actually means Charlie paid for it.
Marsha chuckles. “We got it all worked out. I thought you didn’t want to worry about the money.”
She has me there. When I’d agreed to coach the team, I told her I didn’t want to be in charge of anything that didn’t involve working on lacrosse with the team.
“You’re right. I’m just grateful we’re not stuck in a hotel.”
“How was the flight with your boyfriend?” Marsha asks, clapping her hands together quietly.
I frown. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
Raising an eyebrow, Marsha says, “Are you sure?”
“Positive. Charlie is amazing, but there’s a lot more to it than that. The guy is loaded.”
“And that’s a bad thing because…?”
“Look, Marsha. It would be a joke to think Charlie Danielson would even look at me like a potential date. The guy wears two hundred dollar sport pants, while mine I got on sale for ten bucks.”
“There’s nothing wrong with using the money you have,” Marsha says, taking a seat on the bed. It looks so comfortable.
“What if I start liking him and he dumps me and moves on to greener pastures? Or worse, calls me a gold digger?”
Marsha says nothing, only standing to walk over and give me a hug. Like my grandma, Marsha is a mother figure to me.
“Then he wasn’t right for you,” she says.
“I’m surprised you didn’t start defending him,” I say, wiping under my nose as I step out of the hug.
She shrugs. “We don’t know him that well. But sometimes we have to go out on a limb when the opportunity is there.”
“Well, it’s not there.” That’s a lie. The guy basically kept me comforted the entire way here, holding my hand and talking to keep me distracted. “He’s the guardian of one of my players. I don’t want any complaints of favoritism.”
Marsha places a hand on her hip and says, “You do remember who we are as parents, right? I’m pretty sure we’re more occupied with you being happy and still trying to learn all the darn rules for this game. I think the only one who would complain would be Rainy’s dad, and that’s because he doesn’t get to see all the games.”
“I’m not sure if Charlie will be around a lot after this. The guy travels for work often.”
“How did you two get here so fast? I wasn’t expecting you to get here until almost midnight.”
I bite my bottom lip, trying to decide if I should tell her. “He got seats on a private plane.”
Marsha’s expression morphs into one of pure happiness. “Dang, girl! That sounds amazing.”
I wave my hand, trying to get her to stop getting too excited. I don’t know who’s going to be outside the door and when. No need to have listening ears hear something that they’ll spin out of proportion.
“He only got me a ticket because I missed the flight too.”
“How was it?” Marsha asks, reaching out for my hands and squeezing them.
“So nice,” I say with a sigh. “And now I’ll have to go back to regular flights and know what I’m missing out on.”
“Or you can hang out with Charlie and take more of those.”
“Funny,” I say, with a dry humor. “Let’s just focus on the camp and the tournaments this week and move on.”
It’s easier to keep up the outward facade even when my inner self is moving down the feelings spectrum. Because there’s a one in a million chance Charlie would want to date me, so I’ll just have to take things one day at a time.