To give them credit, it was a great photo, and if they’d shown it me first, I’d have offered more than any tabloid for it.
But they didn’t.
And that was how Dee and I ended up all over social media and in the Sunday papers.
It spoiled what had been a perfect evening. The meal had been fantastic, the service exceptional. We’d had a table tucked away in the corner where there was no one to overhear or watch me try and feed blue steak to my very food-fussy girlfriend. No one saw Dee make me eat a mouthful of her chocolate brownie, which wasn’t a euphemism for something else. No one except the person who sneaked the photos.
Dee woke before me, as she always did. Usually, when I’d stayed with her, she’d leave me to sleep longer while she went to make herself a mug or tea. If she was at mine, she’d wake me in a different way, given there was no chance of interruption.
This morning, I woke because I knew something wasn’t right. Dee was sitting upright next to me, staring at her phone.
At first, I thought something was the matter with Toby. She was tense and looked worried. My next thought was that Joanne had been in touch again – she hadn’t heard from her since that first time, but we all knew there would be more contact when she was out of cash.
“What’s up?” I sat up, the duvet slipping off both of us as I sat up. Dee pulled it back up to cover her tits, which reinforced the idea that something had gone south.
“This.” She passed me her phone, the screen lit up with the main page of an online newspaper, as shown on a news app.
The photo was cute, one of me lifting her chin for a kiss. The headline focused on me, calling me a reformed bad boy of football, and the article rehashed some of my recent history, before going into a bit of detail about Dee, and how she was predicted to be a star of the England squad in next year’s World Cup.
It was the sort of article that would make Genny send us a bottle of champagne, and Rhys cream himself with pleasure, because it was positive. Cute, even. Publicity that would help both of us with more endorsements.
“We were going to get papped at some point.” I passed her phone back. We both knew that there would be negative comments for both of us at some point, as was the way with social media. There would be girls who would be pissed that I was dating Dee, and there would be people all too ready to label me a shit and a cheater. Previous stories about Jade and I would be recycled, but none of them would eclipse those photos.
It was still an invasion of privacy, something the hotel sold itself by to its well-known clientele, and I’d be tearing someone a new one in an hour or so. But first, I needed to do damage control with Dee.
“Did you do this on purpose?”
She was still staring at her phone.
“What do you mean?” I stayed still, waiting for an explanation.
She didn’t look at me, putting her phone down and getting out of bed, digging around in her overnight bag for her jeans and pulling them on.
I rubbed at my face, feeling the prickles of annoyance starting. “Dee, I get you’re pissed off right now, but for fuck’s sake, don’t storm out of here. Whoever took those photos and sold them off will probably still be around, and pictures of you looking like you do now will make a whole better story than ones of us looking cute.”
She sat down on the chair, wearing jeans and the bra she’d quickly put on. “What?”
“If you’re too fucking mad at me, think what Genny would say.” Because when anyone was signed by the club, they got the same induction, including about the press.
Think of what image you need to present. A photo can be taken at any time.
“Did you plan for that photo to be taken?”
I felt a cannon shoot into my chest. “No.”
“This…” she pointed at her phone which was still on bed, blowing up with messages. “This helps your image. It does exactly what you were trying to at the start of summer after those photos of you on that sunbed in Mexico. Is this why…” Her finger was angled at me, then her. “Us. Is this why you wanted us.”
Okay. I was seriously pissed now. Not at me, but at her. “If I could walk out of here right now, I would.” I stood up. “Have a fucking think about what you’ve just accused me of.” I walked into the wet room and turned on the shower.
A fucking long shower was the only thing I could do now, because punching a hole in the wall would not be a good idea.
When I came out of the shower, I found Dee sat on the bed, her knees tucked up to her chin. She looked young and vulnerable, sadder than I’d ever seen her, and any sparkle or sunshine was gone.
I sat down next to her and took a huge inhale of breath. “Sparkles, you’ve known me a bit. Do you really think I’d date someone, get to know their kid, spend this much time with them as privately as possible, just to help my image?”
She looked up and shook her head. “Think of it from my point; I’m so not your type. I’m not gorgeous…”
“You are.”
