I was down to a handful of kids as I waited for the last bus to arrive when I saw a black Range Rover pull up with dark tinted windows. Before I’d had a chance to wonder about the driver, my name was called, and I headed in the opposite direction to see what had happened. Turns out Oliver had grabbed Charlie’s, bag and pushed him into the bushes. Now Charlie was crying, bleeding, and dobbing, while Oliver stood there protesting his innocence.
Just when I was about to have to deal with it, Oliver’s mother appeared, her overly botoxed face in a permanent scowl. “Oliver. Let’s go.”
“Mrs…”
“It’s Miss,” she snapped harshly.
“My apologies. Oliver, did you push Charlie over?” Oliver looked from me to his mother and back again before his eyes fell and he nodded. “Do you think that was very nice?”
“Look, Miss McCoy.” She made my name sound dirty. “If you’re going to stand here and waste our time with frankly stupid accusations, you can find someone else. I have more pressing things to do than listen to your dribble.”
Wow! Her bitchy claws had been sharpened today.
Opening my mouth to reply, I was cut off by a deep voice that came from behind me.
“I’m sure you’ll agree that there’s nothing more important than ensuring the safety of the children. I know you wouldn’t like it if Oliver came home with a torn shirt and a bloody nose.”
“Well… n-no. Of course not.”
“And if another kid was bullying Oliver, I’m sure Miss McCoy would have your full support in getting to the bottom of the issue. Wouldn’t she, Mrs…”
“It’s Miss…” This time it didn’t sound as aggressive. Maybe it was because the man reminding her of her priorities as a parent looked like sex on a stick. Something I’m positive she didn’t miss. I sure as fuck couldn’t. “Miss Rutherford.”
“My apologies, Miss Rutherford. I’m Luca Conti. A friend of Miss McCoy’s.”
I choked.
I choked on air.
Coughing violently, I felt a huge hand rub up and down my back.
“Are you okay, Elise?” he whispered, the warmth from his breath tickling my cheek.
“F-f-fine,” I spat out through desperate breaths.
“I didn’t know Miss McCoy had such good-looking friends.” She flirted shamelessly, while I tried not to vomit on my shoes.
The last bus pulled in and captured my attention. “Look, no one’s injured and there’s no harm here. Oliver, in future I expect better. Okay?”
“Yes, Miss McCoy,” Oliver answered unenthusiastically.
“Okay. Well, Oliver, Miss Rutherford, you have a good night. I have to go check this bus.” I scurried away quickly. I had so many questions and so many thoughts in my head but no time to sort through them. Fleeing for safety, I went over to the bus bay and made sure all the kids got on.
When the last kid, Karenya, climbed into her dad’s car, a hotted-up black sports car that took off with a squeal, I dropped down onto the metal seat and sighed heavily. How the hell it was only Tuesday I had no idea.
As someone stepped in front of me, blocking the sun from my face, a familiar voice asked, “Rough day?”
“You have no idea,” I admitted, opening my eyes and pushing my hair from my face.
“Wanna talk about it?” he offered, sitting down beside me.
I could feel the warmth of his leg through his jeans onto my bare skin. Well, it should’ve been my bare legs except for the thick green smudge of paint along my calf. Damn it! Why was it, any time I was anywhere near the sexy-as-sin soccer star, I looked like I’d just been dragged out of a drain by my hair?
“Not really. Thanks though,” I added, remembering my manners.
“Can I buy you a drink then?”
Huh! What was happening here? There was no freaking way Luca Conti, Australian soccer royalty, thank you Google, was sitting here in the bus bay asking me out. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Shit like this didn’t happen. Especially to girls like me.
