“Everyone’s starting to wonder when the club’s going to say anything,” Kai murmurs. “The game against Salford’s in two days.”
The past three days have been a nightmare. Everywhere I went - coffee with friends, taking Tank for a walk, even fucking Waitrose - I was hounded by the press. Endless questions ofwhere’s Archie? What’s the club doing? Is your marriage over?It’s been exhausting, and means I’m driving more than usual, which I hate. London traffic does nothing for my frayed nerves.
The worst part of it all though is I don’t know myself what’s happening. I’m in a weird limbo state - still Archie’s wife, but also not wanting to be, and knowing that he likely didn’t want me to be either. The emotional push-pull of hating him, while also being so fucking hurt that he’d cheated on me, was doing my head in. I just wanted it all to stop, to go away.
Maybe I should have run off to Spain and all.
But, unlike Archie, I wasn’t going to abandon my job. I had contracts to fulfill, events to attend, and products to promote. At least it was keeping me busy.
“How we doing, sweetheart?” Holly, my PA, appears at my side with a cup of coffee, which I take from her gratefully.
“Fine. Just a little tired.”
“Arlington just announced a press conference for this afternoon,” Holly says in a low voice. “I think it would be wise for you to be home and safe before that happens, because the press are going to be unhinged as fuck, we all know that.”
“Miles ahead of you,” I tell her with a smile. “Charlotte’s coming over, we’re ordering in from the Persian restaurant down the road, and I’m drinking so much wine I’ll be asking,Archie who?by the end of the evening.”
“Sounds perfect.” Holly’s attention is torn back to her phone, more and more emails pouring in, and I decide that I need to give her the bonus of all bonuses for fielding the shitstorm stupid fucking Archie has brought down on us all.
By the time we leave the studio, it’s getting dark, and a group of photographers are waiting down on the street for me. Holly holds up a hand and tells them all to sod off, but their voices drown her out.
“Mia! What do you have to say about the state of Arlington’s team right now?” A voice calls from the back.
“Team’s not really my department, is it?” I respond without looking up. “Barry’s a great coach, he’ll know what to do.”
“Mia! Mia!” A man’s voice sounds right at my shoulder, and I roll my eyes.
“Slow day, Paulie?” I ask, looking at Paulie Hardcastle as Holly tries to put some distance between us. “Or you just back to stalking me now?”
Paulie, a middle-aged man with silver hair and a face that’s just a little too jolly to be genuine, gives me one of his smarmy smiles. “You know I can’t stay away too long, don’t you?”
“Creeping after a woman young enough to be your daughter, bit weird, innit?” I’m almost at the car, but it’s still plenty of time for Paulie to be a fucking cunt.
“How has this latest incident affected your relationship with Dominic?” Paulie asks, and the question has me pausing and blinking at him.
“You what?”
“Your issues with your father-in-law are well known, since he made Archie captain right after your marriage,” Paulie pants as I almost reach the car. “Your feud is almost legendary.”
“Christ, it really is a slow day if you think me and Dominic having a spat is newsworthy.” My hand is on the car door. “Nice chatting to you, Paulie.”
“But did you hear that-”
“That’s enough,” Holly interjects, pushing Paulie and the other photographers back so I can open the car door and climb into the backseat. “You can call me if you want to ask any questions.”
“But you never answer!” Someone calls from the back, and the reporters all laugh.
“Then send me something worth answering, you sods!” Holly calls back cheekily, and climbs in after me. The door is slammed shut amidst more protests, and she huffs out a breath once the car starts to move. “Them reporters and their stupid questions. Always on about you and Dom, it’s so fucking weird.” She leans forward, tapping on the console beside the driver. “Knightsbridge, first please. We need to get Mrs Graves home.”
The driver throws up two fingers in a sign of understanding, and Holly slouches back into her seat with a soft sigh.
“I don’t even know where they got the idea that Dominic and I don’t like each other,” I mutter, staring out the window at the London traffic. “I’ve always been nice to him in public.”
Holly chuckles softly. “Well thereisthat photo-”
“Oh stop,” I interject quickly, my cheeks burning. “I’ve never bloody lived that one stupid photo down.”Thephoto. The image is burned forever into my brain. Me, by a huge plate glass window, hurling an expensive Chinese vase at Archie’s head. It was taken the day of his announcement as Captain of the team, when Archie had sat beside his father at a press conference, and Dominic had thumped him on the back, his face glowing with pride.
The press had dreamt up some story about a rivalry between Dom and I, that we were both vying for Archie’s attention, or something. It was ridiculous, but it had kick-started rumours that Dom and I hated each other.
