We were going to have flan.
I have a few more days before preseason training starts in earnest. A few more days for my bloody old man body to recover from a cheat night before I have to be ready every damn day.
And now all that’s left of my mustache is theashpart, and I had enough chips that my body will think we had our cheat night andI didn’t get my fucking flan.
I cross a street without waiting for a crosswalk sign.
Goldie keeps up, and where I flip off a car that honks at me, she must make a much more polite gesture, because once again?—
“Ma’am? Are you okay?”
“His grandmother died in a freak accident involving a forklift and a baby grand piano,” she calls back. “It’s not you. He’s having a bad day. We’re so sorry.”
“You’re a little fucked up,” I mutter.
“Youcannotkeep walking into streets without looking both ways first. What are you,two?”
“People who throw salsa at me to put out my flaming facial hair don’t get to accuse me of being a toddler.”
“It was the first thing I saw. And nobody else was coming to your rescue. Probably because you can be a serious asshole when you want to be. Sorry, ma’am. Sorry. I don’t usually talk like this. He fired me from a job because it’s bad optics for us to slee—to go to dinner together when he’s the boss and I’m his assistant. But he’s worth it. Most of the time.”
“I doubt that,” the young woman pushing a stroller sniffs. “None of them are worth it.”
“I’m cheating on him with his best friend,” Goldie calls behind us.
I don’t have a best friend.
I have my dog.
I have rugby.
I have a backstabbing former mentor.
I have a bunch of teammates who were my family but who are still across the pond and whom I haven’t seen in two months.
I have a personal paparazzo.
But I don’t have a best friend.
Jesus.
Iaman asshole.
I hit the door to my building, turn, and glare down at Goldie. “I’m home. You’re dismissed.”
“Is this really your building, or are you telling me that so I’ll leave you alone?”
I punch in the code, blocking it from her view, and the door clicks open. “Follow me and I’ll call the police.”
Her gaze wavers and goes shiny.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck.
“I was having a nice time. A surprisingly nice time. Thank you for—for everything. If you need?—”
I don’t wait to hear what else she’s about to offer.
