Soccer Mom

by Eve Langlais

  However, the guy didn’t have any eyes for her. He snapped a jaunty, “Hello, Mr. Moore. Let me grab your bags.”

  A bell boy? How fucking rich was this dude?

  The spry guy grabbed two cases and sprinted into the house. She frowned and hugged her laptop case close but relaxed the hand in the purse.

  While she kept a wary eye on everything, Nico babbled at Philip, not daunted at all. He even managed an enthusiastic “hello” when they reached the door, and an honest-to-goodness butler stood just inside.

  In a suit. The kind that had a coat with tails.

  Utterly ridiculous and yet, at the same time, having all kinds of visible staff gave the house the feel of a hotel—which strangely relaxed Carla. If the guy paid people to work this late into the evening, then he wouldn’t care about a few extra people dirtying some linens and eating his food.

  One only hoped the food provided would be the normal kind and not some weird, fancy crap like caviar and that liver spread stuff.

  “Evening, madame, young sir. Mr. Moore, always a pleasure.”

  “Hey, Owen, I want you to meet Carla and her son, Nico. They’re in town a few days while they check out the academy.”

  “Mr. Oliveira already informed me of our guests. Unfortunately, he is not here at the moment, as he is away conducting business, but he left instructions to make yourselves comfortable. If you need anything, please let me know.”

  “This is a nice house,” Nico remarked.

  “It is, young sir. We have available for your entertainment, a billiards room, an intimate movie theatre, a bowling alley, an outdoor heated pool, and a stable if you enjoy riding.”

  “That’s insane,” Carla muttered.

  The butler offered her a snooty rebuttal. “Given Mr. Oliveira’s preference for privacy, it enables him to enjoy some of his favorite pastimes in an intimate social setting. We also have a sauna and hot tub on the rooftop of the west wing, as well as a fully equipped gym.”

  “What about a resort map?” Carla quipped.

  “We offer an app with directions and a list of the rooms.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” she blurted.

  The butler’s face maintained its stoic appearance as he replied. “We did it to save the trees.”

  Philip stepped in. “You won’t get lost, and if you do, there are intercoms in each room. Hit the star button, and someone will help you find your way.”

  “If you’ll follow me, I will show you to your rooms and have refreshments brought.” Owen led the way with Nico keeping pace at his side going up the grand staircase.

  “Coming?” Philip asked, his foot on the first step.

  Carla almost said no. But that would come across as childish and petty. She’d been given a chance to stay in luxury at no cost to her. No cost that she knew of, which bothered her. In her experience, people always wanted something.

  Nico was almost to the top while she hesitated. Since he was about to move out of sight, she had to make a choice. She swept past Philip. “I swear, if they try and feed me snails, I’ll hurt you.”

  “No snails,” he promised, following her. “But there might be grasshoppers.”

  She stopped and whirled. “You’d better be joking.”

  “They’re a great source of protein.” He moved past her. “Don’t worry, you won’t even taste them.”

  “No, seriously, tell me there are no bugs in the food.”

  Having reached the top of the stairs, he paused to give her a grin. “Don’t tell me you’re too chicken to try something new?”

  She stomped up the remainder of the steps. “You are not funny.”

  “Says you. I am highly entertained right now. Because you’re not as fierce as you appear, Carla Baker.”

  “Being scared of bugs isn’t a weakness. They’re dangerous.”

  A claim that caused him to snort.

  “Don’t laugh. A single tick can paralyze.”

  “Might as well hide inside and wear armor.” He rolled his eyes before walking in the direction Nico had gone. She could see her son halfway up a long hall.

  She hastened her steps. “Keep bugging me, Moore. I’ll shove you over the railing and claim it was an accident.”

  He looked over the edge. “It’s only about twenty feet. I’d survive.”

  “Are you telling me to revise my plan to kill you?”

  “You’d kill me for teasing?” He cast her a smile.

  “I also murder people for putting paper in the plastic recycling bin.”

  “Then I’ll do my best to avoid that.”

  The butler had stopped in front of a door and opened it. Nico disappeared from sight, and her anxiety heightened, but she didn’t act. Moore appeared more than relaxed, and while she did hear squealing, it was from Nico’s excitement. She soon understood why.

  The room she was assigned proved nicer than a hotel. Nicer than any place she’d ever stayed in, as a matter of fact. Most of her special jobs were undercover, which meant she stuck to places that didn’t have the money for cameras and hired staff that didn’t ask questions.

  While she remained wary—and wondered when the other shoe would drop—Nico was in his glory, squealing at the size of the television in his room, conveniently equipped with a game system. He had his own bathroom with a giant, jetted tub. Even a snack bar with a mini-fridge stocked with juice and water, plus a cabinet full of snacks.

  Her room was right across the hall, done in a white and rose gold theme. Fit for a princess. Little did anyone know she’d packed her set of knives and not a tiara.

  Moore didn’t stick around, and she restrained an urge to peek her head out the door to see where he ended up.

  She didn’t care.

  Curiosity wasn’t at all why she crossed the hallway to Nico’s room, and she only looked left and right out of habit. For protection, not to spot that Moore was in the room at the far end of the hall.

  Entering Nico’s room, she found him bouncing on the bed. “Nico. Don’t do that.”

  He stilled and rolled over with a wide grin. “This place is awesome, Mami.”

  “Don’t get too comfy. And take off your shoes!” she exclaimed.

  Given the place felt like a hotel, and both Owen and Philip kept theirs on, she’d never even thought to slip off her own footwear.

  Nico gave her running shoes a pointed look.

  She shook her finger at him. “Don’t start.” She kicked them off. “We are guests here.”

  “Guests, yes, but do get comfortable.” Philip appeared in the doorway. “Owen is grabbing you some food.”

  “You eating with us, Coach?” Nico asked. “I can sit on the bed.” The room only held a pair of chairs in front of the television.

  Before Carla could uninvite Philip, he shook his head. “Sorry, bud. I’ve got a few things I need to take care of. See you in the morning.”

  He was leaving?

  She rose and moved quickly to the door as Philip waved.

  She exited and hissed, “You can’t dump us here and run.”

  “I am not dumping nor running.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To see a few friends.”

  His reminder made her wonder who he was going to see. A girlfriend, perhaps? Not that she cared. She totally lied to herself in the hopes it would stop her from seeing red. “Have fun.”

  “Doubtful. I’d rather hang out here with you guys and unwind. It’s been a long day, and it’s late. I’m sure after your snack, you’ll want to hit the sack early.”

  Probably. Still, how dare he use logic? “See you in the morning.” She shut the door in a huff. She couldn’t truly explain her anger.

  The butler made it clear that they were welcome, so she didn’t need Moore, yet she noticed his absence as she ate with Nico.

  Especially since the chicken nuggets, potato wedges, and slices of fresh fruit didn’t have any bugs at all. And the ketchup was Heinz.

  Right after Nico finished eating, hi
s eyes drooped. It was approaching nine o’clock, and Carla put him to bed before returning to her room.

  Where she paced.

  Bored. Restless.

  Her mind kept straying to Moore. Wondering what he was doing. Had he finished his business? Was he in his room?

  She could knock and see.

  But what would she say if he opened the door? She didn’t have a plausible excuse for bothering him. Because she certainly wouldn’t admit she missed his presence. Miss a stranger? As if.

  Then again, he wasn’t really a stranger anymore. They’d not talked much to each other at any rate. All her knowledge of him was secondhand since Philip didn’t mind conversing with Nico when he put his tablet down and got excited about the scenery they passed.

  The guys even got into a discussion about sports. Their back-and-forth banter wasn’t something she’d ever seen her son indulge in before with another person. The weird part was that seeing them bond didn’t rouse her jealousy, but rather a certain nostalgia. It showed a preview of what Nico had missed out on by not having a father in his life.

  He doesn’t need a father, he has me. Not to mention, if she shopped for a daddy, Moore wouldn’t fit the bill. He was much too good-looking for one. Probably a ladies’ man.

  He also appeared reasonably intelligent and well-spoken. He might even be the type who preferred long-term relationships. All of which made him sound too good to be true. Would that kind of man seriously be single?

  Philip claimed he was.

  Did she believe it? Did it even matter? She wasn’t interested in him. Not one bit.

  She peeked out the window of her room. She had a view of the garden and the pool, the blue length of it massive and lit with underwater lights.

  A pity she’d not brought a suit. A swim might have burned off some of her excess agitation. The energy needed an outlet, and her room, while large, wasn’t big enough.

  Despite her warning to Nico to not go wandering, she exited her room and went prowling. Probably not the politest thing she could do. However, she yearned to know a little bit more about the situation. Because there was something odd going on.

  It started with the fact that all the hotels Moore stopped at were full. As in not a single room available. Which wasn’t completely unheard of, and yet, at the same time, cancellations happened all the time. What were the chances that the six hotels he tried didn’t have a single bed available?

  She would try again in the morning to locate new accommodations because she didn’t feel right staying here. Carla wasn’t one to accept charity, and this felt awfully close. Not to mention the discomfort of being surrounded by furniture and knickknacks that probably cost more than she made in a month. The silence of the house only served to increase her agitation.

  The long hallway was softly lit, and she traced her path back to the stairs. She half expected to see Owen waiting at the bottom, ready to pounce and ask her if she required his services.

  How convenient the way Moore had managed to get them accommodations at the house belonging to the owner of the academy. In some respects, it made sense. Moore was friends with the guy, after all. Hence the invite for Nico to try out. But on the other hand, how chummy were they? Because she didn’t buy Philip’s bullshit story of Oliveira being a benevolent host. This house oozed wealth. The kind that wasn’t meant for rambunctious boys and their mothers. Moore’s claim that Oliveira wanted to woo Nico to become one of his students didn’t ring true either. Why would this rich man go out of his way to impress a student who couldn’t afford his academy? Surely, he had more applicants than he could handle.

  Carla had to find out more.

  She held her finger down on the power button of her phone for seventeen seconds, then dialed a special number, which put the device into scramble mode. Even if someone tried, they wouldn’t be able to decipher the signal. To make things more difficult, she headed outside via the terrace door she’d seen in the massive living room—and by massive, she meant super high ceiling and the size of a basketball court, with a half-dozen couches and even more chairs scattered throughout.

  The phone was answered within two rings. “There’s my sweet girl. How did your trip go?” Mother asked.

  “Not so good. We should have made a reservation. There wasn’t a hotel room to be found.”

  “Oh, dear. Where are you now then?”

  “Staying at the house of the guy who owns the Yaguara Academy.”

  “Really?” Mother’s voice dropped a level. “How generous of him.”

  “Isn’t it, though?” Carla didn’t bother to hide her wry reply. “Coach Moore has painted him to be some kind of philanthropist.”

  “Must be, given the interest he takes in undeveloped talent.”

  They kept their conversation couched in case of listeners, but Carla knew that Mother was already digging up everything she could on Oliveira. Something Carla should have done before leaving on this trip; however, she’d not imagined they’d get so close to the owner of the academy. A mistake rectified because, in her profession, it sometimes paid to be suspicious.

  “Place is nice. Huuuuge,” Carla said, exaggerating the word. “I might have to GPS Nico to keep track of him.”

  “How long will you be staying?” asked Mother.

  “One night. I’m going to find us another spot to stay tomorrow.”

  “When does Nico try out?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon. Apparently, the boys run on a special schedule to allow them early dismissal so they can have afternoon practices.”

  “Leaving them the evenings for homework and relaxation. That is a nice perk.”

  “I guess.” Carla had never known relaxation. Growing up, with her dad out of the picture, her mother worked twice as hard to make ends meet, which meant the kids had to do their part. As soon as they were old enough, they got a job to contribute. Homework rarely got done. That explained her grades.

  “How is the handsome coach?”

  Carla almost blushed, especially since she’d never told Mother that Moore was anything of the sort. Which meant Mother had already been digging into him. “He’s fine.”

  “Just fine? I think you should get to know him better.” Code-speak for the fact that Mother was having trouble finding any dirt. “I sent Aunt Judy over to keep an eye on your house,” Mother remarked, changing the subject.

  More code, indicating she’d put a KM operative on the case. If there were something amiss, Aunt Judy would ferret it out.

  “While she’s there, see if she can get something done about my van.”

  “Already taken care of. Damned teenagers,” Mother exclaimed. “Now, I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think it’s time you move to a nicer neighborhood.”

  Carla sighed. “I’d rather not, but given all that’s happened, I guess I’d better start thinking about it.” In other words, it might be time to relocate.

  “Perhaps this academy thing is just what you and Nico need. A new city, fresh start.”

  Given Nico seemed excited, it could be a good plan. At least she wouldn’t need to give him a weak excuse as to why he needed to leave everything he knew. “I guess it depends on how well he does at the tryout. I should go. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Carla hung up, not allowing Mother to respond, and slowly turned, fixing Moore with a stare. “Eavesdrop often?” She’d only barely caught the sound of a shoe scuffing garden stone. Good thing she hadn’t said anything she shouldn’t have. She’d hate to have to kill Philip. A feat that would be difficult, given the number of cameras around.

  “I didn’t want to interrupt.” He came closer, hands shoved into his pockets, which made her twitch. Did he have a gun or knife hidden in there?

  She had a piece tucked under her arm inside her sweater. Pulling it seemed premature, though.

  “I was talking to Mo—my mother.” She almost forgot the my, which would have sounded odd.

  “I couldn’t help but overhear you discussing big life changes.”

 
“You mean the part about me moving?” Her nose wrinkled. “Yeah. Maybe. If the neighborhood’s gone to shit, then I don’t want Nico getting hurt by accident.”

  “The timing might be perfect if everything goes well at tryouts.”

  “Assuming we want to make the jump to Pasadena.”

  “It’s a nice city.”

  “How would you know?”

  “Have you forgotten? I’m from here.”

  “If it’s so nice, why leave?”

  “I didn’t, technically. The coaching job is temporary. I’m doing it as a favor.”

  “Hold on, if it’s temporary, then that means you have a place here.”

  “I do.”

  “Then why aren’t you staying at your house?” she asked, suspicion furrowing her brow.

  “Since I was supposed to be gone for a few weeks, I am having the whole place repainted.”

  “Oh.” She tucked her phone in her pocket, suddenly at a loss for words. Which wasn’t like her. She was the brash one with a smartass reply for everything. Yet there was something about Moore, an appeal that she couldn’t explain. He seemed so darned cultured. Respectable.

  Handsome in his button-down shirt.

  Mother needs to dig deeper. Find out what is wrong with him. He’d be easier to dislike then.

  “Why are you out here?” she asked. It seemed kind of fishy that they’d both gone for a walk at the same time.

  “I saw you from my bedroom window.”

  The fact that he spied should have angered Carla. Instead, a strange warmth filled her. “You followed me?”

  “I did. I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

  She arched a brow. “Why do you care how I feel?”

  “If you’re stressed, then Nico will sense it. It could affect his playing abilities.”

  A snort escaped her. “I am always stressed.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m a single mother living paycheck to paycheck.” Who spent a lot of time worrying about her son. A son who kept reminding her that he wasn’t a baby. The older Nico got, the less he needed her, and the more alone she felt.

  “Sounds hard.”

  “Lonely.” The word escaped her before she could stop it.

  Moore stepped closer, and she didn’t move away, even though he invaded her space. This close, she was forced to tilt her head to maintain eye contact. She felt electricity in the air, snapping between them. Breathless anticipation.