“She’s still trying to make up for how she was when she found out that Amber was pregnant.” Genny sat at the kitchen island with a glass of champagne, looking outside as well. “And telling your brother.”
I sat down next to her. Everything was ready. Sandwiches were made, cakes were set, the teapots were set out and the kettle had already boiled. Neva had gone to town on the cute napkins and a tea service that she’d hired for the occasion.
“I don’t think either of them were ever bothered about Neva telling Nate. It helped, I think.” Amber had found out she was pregnant and not told Nate for a few weeks while she got her head round it, as she’d never planned to have children. Nate, being him, had seen the bigger picture, which was kind of what he always did.
“Yeah, well, Neva was a cow.” Genny shook her head. “I love her to death, but she really can be hard work.”
I laughed. “She’s one of your best friends.”
“Which is why I can say it. But you know what’s really bothering me?” She put her champagne glass down, so I knew she was serious. “She’s shagging someone and not saying anything.”
“Neva?”
Genny nodded. “Neva. Straight-laced, never-breaks-the-rules Neva is definitely knocking boots with someone, and my guess is it’s someone on the team.” Her eyes gleamed.
Genny, full name Genevieve, was the team’s glue. She ran the club, apart from the actual stuff on the field. She was the ultimate professional, at least when she was at work. My only tie to the club was Nate and being friends with Amber through Nate, so recently, when we’d grabbed a coffee or managed to sneak a late lunch, she’d started to open up.
“You think Neva’s seeing one of the players? Which one?”
Genny shook her head. “I’m not sure. I don’t think she thinks it’s serious, which tells me it’s one of the younger players. Not Nicky. He’s in denial about Kitty.”
Something we all knew. “Jude?”
“I’m not sure. I can’t see her with Jude. He’s so much of a baby.”
“Is he? Everyone thinks that because he’s been in the spotlight since he was a kid, but he’s twenty-three. That isn’t a kid anymore.” He'd been playing out of his skin and had stayed out of the gossip columns for the last few months, which could be a clue that he was seeing someone. I also knew that Jude couldn’t hold water. He was one of the biggest gossips I’d ever met.
“I’ll do some digging. I’ve asked Neva if she’s seeing anyone and she’s outright lied to me and said no.” Genny peered outside. “She needs to stop making amends. Amber will flip if she fusses any more.”
That was a possibility. I’d heard Amber snap at Nate twice today, reminding him that she was pregnant and not injured. He’d sensibly made himself scarce for a couple of hours over dinnertime.
“I heard you’re officially Jesse’s designated driver. How’s that working?” Genny's eyes danced with the possibility of more gossip.
“He goes to training. He comes here. Next week he starts at the summer soccer school. I get to drive a really expensive car around. There have been no bars or drops-offs at women’s houses or anything scandalous.” I’d say he had a boring life, but I didn’t find Jesse boring at all. Anything but.
“He asked you to keep any paddles or handcuffs in the boot?”
“Come again?” I raised my brows at Genny.
She smiled and shook her head. “Rumour has it, and it’s a really quiet rumour because Jesse’s a good guy who’s come through a very, very shitty childhood, that he’s a bit of a dom.”
“Oh. Ohhhh.” A shiver went straight down my spine and lit something in my core on fire. I swallowed, then reached for the bottle of champagne for a top-up. “That kind of fits.”
Genny looked at me curiously. “Fits what? Your fantasies? Your expectations?”
“He said he had a kink.” That was all I was going to say on the matter of the short conversation Jesse and I had had. “But I see it now. He’s very… dominant, but in a really quiet way.”
“I know. He oozes it. He has a smoulder. And he’s intense. If I was going to do a player, he would be my choice.”
“You like a pair of handcuffs?”
Genny laughed. “I prefer using them on someone.”
“Someone in particular?” I suspected who she’d used them on. Strongly suspected.
“Twice. I repaid the favour. It was a time when we got on very well. Let’s go back to Jesse.” Her intense gaze that usually got millionaire footballers to confess every single one of their fuck-ups was turned on me. “Would you go there?”
I was a glass and a half of champagne in. That was all. And we were already having this conversation. I’d forgotten what warm afternoons with alcohol were like with girlfriends — it had been that long.
