No, I wasn’t going to give up my country and the matching deal I’d be getting from FC Greenwich in order to move to Paris.
But I had to admit, it did not feel terrible to spend time with a club that considered themselves a band of brothers, supporting one another rather than rival gladiators, fiercely guarding their spots on the team.
“So, Bruno was telling us you won a prize package, too,” Antoni, the Italian goalkeeper, was saying to Kayla when Max and I turned to join into their conversation.
“Mine isn’t nearly as nice as Mick’s,” she shouted over the loud electronic music blasting from all the speakers. “I mean, they flew me out from California, but no extras. Just the hotel and flight. That’s it. I’m on my own for experiences, and my room at the Benton Budget is basically a small box compared to his.”
“Benton Budgets give their clientele a lot, considering the low price they charge,” Max pointed out, projecting his voice much easier than Kayla had. “It’s the best American brand in Paris if you ask me.”
“Did anyone ask ya, mate?” I replied between gritted teeth.
At the same time, Kayla rushed to assure him, “Oh no, you’re right. It’s really nice. And super clean. I’m just saying it’s no suite at the Tourmaline Paris Étoile. I mean, the room they gave Mick is just bonkers! You should see it.”
“Well, you should see the penthouse suites at the Benton Paris Grand….” Max started to counter defensively until I gave him a quelling look.
Having introduced himself simply as the club’s owner, without letting on that he was also the playboy scion of the American Benton Hotel Family, it would come off as weird for him to mount such a hard defense of his family’s brand.
“Or so I’ve heard,” he concluded with a scowl, dropping the subject.
Kayla uncomfortably took a sip of the fine champagne she had barely touched.
“In any case,sì, Mick’s package is very generous,” Antoni agreed, deftly changing the subject. “We will be taking him to breakfast tomorrow morning, and then he will sit in on another one of our morning practices. But after, I believe there is—how do you say?—a shopping spree at Je T’aime Tourdin, a very nice private-viewing-only boutique in the Golden Triangle. My wife and all of her friends love it. And, of course, Mick should give you this part of his prize so that you can have something nice to wear the next time he takes you out.”
“That’s a great idea!” I said, quickly picking up on where Antoni was going with this.
I’d borrowed one of the strangely well-tailored formal game-day suits** before coming out to Kentucky with the Triomphe players. But Kayla had to scramble after I texted her to meet me here. She’d spent the first fifteen minutes after her arrival apologizing profusely for her fabric flats and what she’d referred to as her “Kohl’s wrap dress.”
“This was the only even kind of close to dress-up outfit I could find in my suitcase.” She’d eyed the other women in VIP guiltily. As if she’d committed a crime by showing up in a yellow dress when all the WAGs were wearing chic little black numbers.
Truth was, I’d just been happy to see her outside a hoodie.
“You look great, love,” I’d assured her. “That bright color’s mint against your skin, innit? And the neckline’s chef’s kiss.”
But apparently, Kayla had remained self-conscious about her outfit, if Antoni knew enough to suggest I take her on a shopping spree. Plus, it’d be another opportunity to show her the life I can give her if she just let me.
However, Kayla immediately started shaking her head at the mention of Antoni’s made-up shopping spree. “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly?—”
“Course ya could.” I slung an arm around her shoulder. “I’m not one for the fancy togs meself. But ya don’t want me to just leave all those shoppin’ spree euros unclaimed, do ya?”
I could see Kayla’s payroll administrator brain practically buffering under my argument.
“I guess not,” she admitted in the end. “And I was planning to maybe look for a few new outfits for work while I was here anyway….”
“Sì, sì,” Antoni said approvingly. “Dress for success, as they say.”
“I mean, I guess.” Kayla glanced at me uncertainly. “As long as it’s part of the package and not costing you any money.”
“Not a pound,” I happily lied, not caring a bit how much dosh this shop Antoni had suggested would cost me.
Strange, I’d spent my entire career avoiding gold diggers who only wanted to spend my money. But here I was, scheming to get Kayla to agree to let me lavish her with gifts.
“Maybe we could go to the Eiffel Tower after the shopping spree tomorrow,” she suggested, her tone brightening. “I was planning to go there after the Louvre today, but the line to see theMona Lisawas crazy long! Then I received your text. So, I got dressed as best I could and came straight here without going there. Or, you know, eating dinner.”
My arm stiffened around her shoulders, and I exchanged glances with Max and Antoni.
There was no way in hell I could take her somewhere as public as the Eiffel Tower without getting recognized.
“Oh, actually, that tourist trap scene isn’t for me,” Max said, coming through with an excuse. “How about you, Mick?”
