by Leesa Bow
“Your contract is no longer under review,” Ian says from beside me. “We’re waiting for coach to discuss where you’ll fit into the team.”
I turn to Bill, frowning. “Fit in?”
“The club has recruited well. You’re part of this club, but you still have to prove yourself on the field. I’d like to say you’re an automatic inclusion. However, you have this holiday, which will prevent you from training for another month. I’m afraid while your team is getting fitter, you’ll be lagging behind.”
I gape at Bill. “I promise you, I’ll train every day in Bali. The humidity will work in my favour, get me fitter. There’s a gym at the resort, but I can find a personal trainer to work alongside me.”
“I admire your enthusiasm. Keep it up and your spot will open up for you. We can’t risk securing a position if you’re not up to the standard of the rest of the team. When was the last time you touched a ball?”
Weeks.
“Is there an Aussie rules league in Bali? Are there any teams I could join for training?”
Ian coughs. “I could look into it.”
“Look.” Bill moves to his seat behind his large desk. “Go away and train, then come back here and ease into it. We’ll use the Cup games to give the young lads some experience, and aim to have you in the side for the main season. Don’t let me down.” Bill gives me a pointed look. “I don’t want a repeat of last year.”
“It won’t happen. Except—”
The door opens and my coach and Hunter walk into Bill’s office. I shake both gentlemen’s hands. Hunter and I exchange slaps on the back.
“You were saying,” Bill interrupts.
“I don’t intend to stay with the girl—Lucy—from the show.” Ian shifts in his seat beside me. “It may cause some backlash, but I’m not interested. I did what I had to do.”
Bill’s eyes narrow.
“It’s okay,” Coach says from my right. “Hunter has explained everything.”
I look at Hunter and nod. “I appreciate it. Things did happen behind the scenes, but as soon as this Bali holiday is over, and after all the interview obligations when I get back, my commitment to Contest will be done. I’ll be focusing solely on football. Everyone and everything will take a back seat to football.”
TORI
It took some coaxing, but I finally convinced Mum and Dad I was fine and for them to go on their holiday. Mum negotiated for me to stay with Aunt Camilla after my surgery. I agreed purely so they would leave. Aunt Camilla decided we should dine in one of Melbourne’s finest restaurants for Christmas, and she introduced me to some of her old work colleagues, who were once part of the broadcasting channel where my mother works. One could say it’s in my blood, yet after a long conversation with Dad, I’m beginning to rethink my future at RCP.
I miss my parents, even though they Skyped two days ago from Times Square, minutes before the ball was about to drop. It was magical to see their smiling faces, with tiny snowflakes dotting their hair.
New Year’s was quiet for me. I’d had the dermoid cyst removed only three days prior. I cried when the specialist told me there’s a chance I’d lose my right ovary during surgery. He was right, and I’m still coming to turns with it, even though he assured me I could still fall pregnant naturally. “These things happen,” Aunt Camilla had said, yet I can’t help thinking I’m being punished in some way.
The experience has made me rethink everything, and what I want to do with my life. Yesterday, Aunt Camilla and I wandered into a travel agent after reading the New Year specials board. Thirty minutes later she paid for my flight to Italy. It’s somewhere I’ve always wanted to visit, and Aunt Camilla insisted she pay. It’s a flexi flight, and I can change the October date if needed. She said Italy was the perfect place to find romance. I hope she’s right. I have ten months to save because, hey, why stop at Italy?
Aunt Camilla dropped me at the airport with enough time to board my flight back to Adelaide. After checking in I find a seat and take a Xanax, washing it down with water. I’m anxious about going home because it feels like home is here with my family.
Rhett is still in my thoughts, despite my efforts at pushing him out. It’s not like I want to run away from my problems, but I have a sense of self-control here in Melbourne, and now that I’m returning to the source I’m rethinking my life and the direction I want to take. Change always makes me uneasy, because fear and self-doubt rise to question my choices.
Walking directly to the departure gate, I wheel my small suitcase along, not taking notice of other passengers around me. As a platinum member I’m one of the first to board, without queuing. I step onto the plane and ask the steward for assistance to lift my case into the overhead locker. I’m still not allowed to strain or lift, and no driving either.
Placing my hand on my stomach, I lower myself slowly into the seat near the window. The Xanax is taking effect. As other passengers board, I close my eyes and tune out the low hum of chatter, until more masculine voices pull me out of the early daze. I’m staring at tall, athletic guys in polo shirts, boarding the plane and quickly taking up a lot of space. They remind me of Rhett. I close my eyes for a moment and I’m back to thinking about him.
Rhett will be returning from Bali in the next few days, and his post-show interviews will be broadcast across the television network and most radio stations. I’ve decided to stay off all social media. Back in Adelaide, I’ll keep a low profile until the hype of Contest is over. For once I can’t wait for a show I’ve been involved in to become yesterday’s news.
I open my eyes when one of the taller guys slides into the seat beside me. I’m not surprised, as I like to have an emergency row seat for the extra foot room, and, by God, he needs it.
“Hi,” I say dreamily, before my eyes flutter closed again.
“Have a big weekend?” he asks. I open my eyes to a cheeky grin.
“No. I’ve taken … it doesn’t matter. I’ll be asleep soon.” Before I close my eyes, I notice the emblem on the left side of his chest. A blackbird. Then the meaning dawns on me and my back stiffens. I sit forward to scan the opposite seats. Realising Rhett wouldn’t be with the team, I slump back into the seat.
The guy sitting beside me watches curiously. It’s then I notice he has the bluest eyes, more mesmerising than Rhett’s. Maybe because they are a stark contrast against his black hair and fair skin. He’s the opposite of Rhett.
“I thought it was too early for football.” I might not be knowledgeable about the game, but I’m aware the season doesn’t start until April.
“We had a training camp in Melbourne for a few days and a trial game. We’re heading home. I’m Hunter, by the way.” He holds out his hand in a polite gesture. “You heading home?”
The name Hunter sounds familiar … “Yeah. I’m Victoria.” Hell, I’ve been around my mother too long. “I mean, Tori.”
Hunter’s hand stills over mine. His expression unnerves me, but not enough to compensate for the effect of the tablet. I pull my hand from his and curl toward the window. My eyes flutter closed, yet I’m aware of the cabin crew preparing for take-off.
I relish the silence and allow my thoughts to drift away into a medication-induced sleep.
RHETT
“Salamat sore, Mr Williams.”
Wiping my brow with a sweat towel, I nod at Paulus, our Balinese helper. “Good afternoon to you too, Paulus.” I’m not comfortable having someone available around the clock. It’s like the little bugger doesn’t sleep. Whenever I step out of our room he’s there. When I walk back into the resort, he’s standing waiting for me. When I arrive back from my ten-kilometre beach run each morning, he’s waiting, and asks when I’d like breakfast. And after my lazy five-K run before dinner, I know what he’s going to ask, so I say, “We’re booked in at seven.”
Paulus smiles, his toothy grin taking up most of his face. “Miss Lucy, cantik.”
It dawns on me why he’s grinning. I stop beside him and wipe the sweat dripping
from my face. Anyone would think I’ve been for a swim, not a run, in this damn humidity. “Yes, she is beautiful. I want tonight’s dinner to be special. Can you arrange some flowers, and I’ll give them to her when I arrive?”
“Ya.” His eyes widen when I hand him a wad of rupiah. Nine hundred thousand rupiah will be more than sufficient here in this country, where most things seem ridiculously cheap.
“Keep the change,” I tell him. Ninety dollars would get an average arrangement back home, but here I expect it to be exotic, and Paulus will get some change. Paulus scurries away. My wallet is noticeably thinner when I push it back into my pocket. A good thing, since we’re leaving in the morning.
Walking through the green, leafy gardens, I stop by a lily pond and stare at the Buddha statue. If I could meditate it would be here. Before I came to Bali my head was full of crazy shit, and it took a good week to wind down. After four weeks I’m stronger, fitter, and mentally in a good place. I’ve had time to think, analyse, and rethink my life and perspectives.
Lucy has been great. We’ve had a lot of fun. The first week I think we got smashed every night by the pool. It made fighting off her advances more challenging, but we did fall asleep pretty quickly. The second week we both took to the lifestyle and went on a health kick. When she realised I wasn’t going to sleep with her, she began meditating most mornings, and even learned Tai Chi. Her routine suited me, since I woke at dawn for a morning run, and then we wouldn’t see each other until breakfast.
Last week we went on adventure safari, including white-water rafting, paragliding, treetop climbing and riding elephants through the rainforest. Earlier this week we tried bungy jumping. It took some coaxing to get Luce to let go of my hand and jump, but the smile on her face was worth it. She was the perfect chick to have here, and we are definitely closer …
Snapping back, I head through the foyer and greet the staff. Our private suite is on the ground floor. We have our own private garden and plunge pool. Holding my key near the screen I hesitate, thinking about our last night in Bali, and what Lucy will expect from me.
We both fly back to Adelaide in the morning, to my home, not hers. But we are both required to be available for interviews and promo work for one week. I flat out refused to tour the capital cities for interviews, because I intend to be back on the track training tomorrow night.
I invited Lucy to stay with me. She still hasn’t given me an answer. Lucy is a smart girl. I hope she’s smart enough to realise we, as a couple, are not going anywhere. Yet I don’t want to lose her friendship.
When I step inside our luxury suite the living area is empty. The room has floor-to-ceiling windows, and I spot Lucy sitting in the private garden, sipping wine from a glass. Even from here I can tell she’s ready for dinner. Her blonde hair is pinned to the top of her head, and she’s wearing a lemon, strapless dress that falls over her knees and touches the pavers.
Fuck.
It’s after six, so I have plenty of time to get ready. It shouldn’t bother me that Lucy has dressed over the top to impress me, but it does. Skimming the towel over my sweaty arms, I walk through the sliding door. It’s ajar, as though she’s expecting me. “Hey.”
Lucy peers up from her wine glass and smiles. “Hey.”
“You look stunning,” I say honestly.
She gives me a relaxed smile. “Thanks, Rhett. I’d like to say the same about you, but …”
“I’ll scrub up okay and be ready to join you out here in five.” I lean down and kiss her on the cheek. Lucy doesn’t even move, and I assume it’s because by now she’s used to my cheek kisses.
She looks up and her eyes sparkle. “You stink.”
I laugh once and turn, no longer smiling when I spot the camera filming us from the garden corner behind me, on the other side of the pool. “Rhett.” Ingrid steps from behind the camera. She taps Jim on the back. “Cut, Jimbo.” She strides toward me. “Surely you didn’t forget about filming the final night? Romancing it up for the cameras.”
“Completely slipped my mind, since we haven’t heard from anyone in weeks.”
She tilts her head and looks at me as though I’ve missed something. “We’ve been in contact with Lucy.”
I glance over at Lucy, who’s still staring into her wine glass as if it holds the answers she’s searching for. Now I know why she’s dressed like she’s going to a frickin’ ball. “I won’t take long to get ready.”
“There’s a suit on your bed.”
“What? I have to wear one in this heat?” I snap.
“Yes, you do. Before you go, I have to ask … did you know we were here when you walked up to Lucy and kissed her?”
“Nope,” I say flatly.
“Interesting.” Her lips twitch but she doesn’t smile.
“Anything else?”
Ingrid folds her arms. “Yes. Play nice.”
I ignore her and head to the shower. “Fucking fantastic,” I mumble when I’m out of earshot.
Thirty minutes later, Lucy and I are in the main restaurant of the resort. Ingrid had arranged for the restaurant to remain closed to the public until they finished shooting. The cameras are in our face for the first hour. We staged it with fake meals, so they could film us eating each course. Lucy played along by spooning food into my mouth. As for dessert, she placed pieces of exotic fruit near my lips, and I took her fingers into my mouth, sucking the juices off in a tantalising way. Her eyes told me exactly what she was thinking. So I asked for more wine to be served.
Mixing the hot weather, food, and early mornings with alcohol is a recipe for fatigue. I need to get Lucy sleepy so she’ll fall asleep rather than try to seduce me. Lucy hasn’t tried anything the past two weeks, but the way she’s looking at me tonight, I’m not stupid and can see through her plan. Unfortunately, she also sees through mine and insists on water, not wine.
When the cameras have stopped rolling, and Ingrid and her crew have left the restaurant, we order our main meal. I’m no longer hungry, but I’ve developed a liking for the Balinese dish nasi ayam, and I order it with extra sambal.
Lucy raises an eyebrow. I peel off my suit jacket and then roll up the sleeves of my shirt. “It’s our last night, Luce, so I’m going all out. The spices will be pouring out of my pores for the next twenty-four hours.”
“Sitting next to you on the plane will be such a pleasure,” she says dryly.
“Oh but, honey, don’t forget tonight.” I grin.
“Seriously?” Her brow tightens. “Do you have to order the extra spice?”
“Thought you loved sleeping with me.” I wink.
“If there were a reward for suffering through the nights then yes, but I’m lacking the motivation without the sweetener to go along with it. I mean, hell, you’re so big you take up most of the bloody bed.”
“So if we fuck you’ll be happy to put up with my faults?” I say flatly. I don’t have to beat around the bush with Luce.
“Keep your voice down,” she hisses. “And you don’t have to make it sound so crass.”
“People fuck, Luce. I thought I was being a gentleman treating you like a lady and not sleeping with you. Hell, I went on the show to become a better person, and now you want the old me back.” I lift my glass to my lips and down half the contents.
“Even a small piece of the old you would be nice,” she says in a mocking tone. “A girl has needs.”
“Then you should have packed a vibrator.”
“I did.” She glares at me.
Taking another mouthful, I set my glass on the table. “This is not how I want our last night to go down.”
Lucy flops back in the chair and stares off to my side, avoiding my gaze. She wraps her arms around her middle. Her eyes glaze over as though she’s thinking. “Me neither.”
“Can we be frank?” I ask. Lucy’s eyes dart back to meet mine. She nods once. “What did you want out of this arrangement? From me?”
She makes a sound out of her nose. “Really? You don’t know?�
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“Well, apart from the obvious.”
“The obvious,” she repeats, and gives me a disconcerting look. “And what do you think that is?”
My mouth opens, and then I shut it again. “Well …” I look down at her breasts, pushed tight together under her lemon dress. “You said you wanted to—”
“Sex is not the only thing I wanted. I wanted you. The whole package,” she croaks. She swipes her eyes, leaving a tiny black line above her cheek.
My hand rubs at the heaviness in my chest. “Me? C’mon, Luce, be serious,” I quip. “I disgust you at times. The real me … what you see is what you get. I’d be barely around. You see how much I train here. Quadruple it, and you’ll get the idea of what it’s like to date a footballer. You think you could handle it?”
She leans forward. “Yes.” She closes her eyes and shakes her head before opening them again. “I wanted you so badly I would have put up with anything. As long as you loved me back. And since we’re being frank,” she says in a sharp tone, “I love that we’re friends and we have fun together, because for a relationship to work couples need to be able to enjoy each other’s company. So this trip has been amazing. I’ve had a lot of fun with you. But we didn’t come here as friends. We came here to explore our feelings for each other, to consider if anything could possibly develop into more, and the pause in that equation didn’t come from me. Something is holding you back. I get you want to be a gentleman, turn over a new leaf and all, but c’mon, Rhett. Who the hell are you trying to kid? Not me. Your little plan of wearing me out during the day, and feeding me alcohol at night isn’t going to work tonight.”
“Didn’t think it would,” I say quickly.
“So what’s stopping you from exploring your feelings with me tonight?” She waves her hand, gesturing around her. “Everything has been set up for us. It’s romantic. We have a luxurious suite where we can take a midnight dip. Naked. Which I have done, by the way, while you’ve been snoring your head off.”
I gape at Lucy. “You could take it as a compliment. I’m comfortable enough around you to have a good night’s sleep.”