I laughed, catching the bone she was throwing me. “There was. She was pretty decent looking too.”
“And I’m sure in real life she has a sparkling personality which means she is so much more than just a job.”
I heard the hesitancy in her words.
“I’m pretty sure about that too.” I had no idea where to move to next with this. I wasn’t a fan of conversations over an app or video; there was too much that couldn’t be worked out.
“So you know my superhero name, although my powers are pretty lame. I’m sorry if you feel I lied to you.” Her chin tipped up, eyes glittered, something that I couldn’t miss even through a screen.
I shook my head. “I don’t feel lied to. Neither of us disclosed everything about what we do. And neither of us asked.”
She smiled, but it wasn’t a full smile. “It was nice to meet a normal person who didn’t care who I was – I mean who the media sees me as.”
I nodded, and this time I couldn’t help but smile. “I felt the same.”
“Oh.” Her look of confusion merged into understanding. “Then – I’m missing something here. What do you do? No, no – let me guess.”
My smile was wide now, and I felt warmth grow in my stomach, muscles relaxing at last.
“Do you need a clue?”
She shook her head. “No. But let me ask five questions.” She twitched around and sat up straighter, like a star pupil in class. “First one. Does your job have something to do with keeping fit?”
“Yes.” I was enjoying this far more than any other journalist asking me questions.
“That’s the first one. So, second question. Are you famous?”
I thought for a moment. I’d played for England. I was probably their first choice striker. That meant a lot of people in the country – and wider – knew who I was. “I suppose so.”
Her face fell a little. “I’m sorry for not knowing who you are.”
“Really? That’s a tad ironic, don’t you think?”
She shrugged. “True. I’ll move on.”
“Good. Next question.”
She ran her hands through her hair, sitting up straighter still and allowing me a view of the tight vest top she was wearing, a top tight enough to see the shape of her tits and an outline of her nipples through it.
I hated video calling.
She looked thoughtful. “Do you play professional sports? Your body looks like someone who does.”
“Yes. I play sports professionally.”
The little jig she gave at being right made her tits bounce. I tried to keep my eyes off them. I didn’t succeed.
“Okay. It was either that or something to do with technology. You have a geek vibe, but a hot one, and I wondered if you were on some entrepreneur show. And you’re a bit brighter than I’d guess the average sports player to be. That sounds bad, doesn’t it?”
I thought of my teammates and shook my head. “Not really. But you’re not wrong about the tech stuff. I code programmes as a hobby.” A well-paid hobby, but I’d leave that out for now.”
Her smile was victorious. “But you’re not famous for that?”
“No. Definitely not.”
“Your secret is safe with me. Do you play a team sport?”
“Yes. You have one more question. That’s if we don’t include the one about not being famous for techy stuff.” Really, she’d had her five, but she was the one who’d set the rules.
