Try hard, p.3
Try Hard, page 3
She laughed. “Fia Pendrick, how chivalrous.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll take the offer back.”
“No, no, don’t do that,” she said, fumbling to take it from me and immediately taking a large swig.
From the lack of complaint, I inferred that she must take her hot drinks extremely hot. Either that, or we needed to worry she was so cold she’d lost all sensation in her mouth, but she looked too healthy for that.
Her eyes closed and she shuddered. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
I looked away, back at the runway as another plane prepared to take off. Our dads were talking animatedly to their stream about the plane and what was coming up after it. My familiar, loveable dad, and Jeremy—a man I could not understand. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“Oh, you’ve been keeping track of what I put in my mouth, have you?”
My eyes went wide, my lips pursed, and I refused to look at her.
She laughed loudly. “Okay, I could have phrased that better.”
“Oh, I don’t know, it seems like a fair question given some of the talk I’ve seen about you online.”
She turned to me, absolutely glowing, her face regaining some of its earlier colour now that she had a hot drink inside her. “Have you been following me online, Ms. Pendrick?”
“No.” I said it far too quickly so it sounded like a lie. Of course, it was a lie, but I didn’t want her to know that.
She nudged me, and I couldn’t help but wonder whether she was simply a tactile person or whether it was a result of having played a contact sport where your teammates are constantly touching each other so it became a non-issue after a while, something you simply didn’t register anymore.
“You don’t have to be shy,” she said through that huge grin. “I really will sign that article for you, if you want?”
“That’s not at all necessary.” I tucked my chin down into my collar, refusing to look at her. “We went to school together and you became a huge name. I have the internet, so it’s only natural that I would… pay a tiny bit of attention when your name comes up.”
“Enough attention to see what my thirstiest fans have to say.”
“They are the loudest ones.”
She laughed. “I mean, if both our dads have seen it, I suppose I can’t feel too special that you have.”
Finally, I turned towards her. “Both our dads?”
“Mm. Turns out they’re aware of some of the things I get called online.”
I winced. “Yikes. Is ‘Mommy’ or ‘Daddy’ the worse one for them to know?”
She laughed. “I like that you went with Mommy, not Mummy.”
“I’ve never seen anyone call you Mummy.”
“Right. I guess the other spelling is more common.”
“Indeed.”
“And, yeah, I think it’s worse than Daddy.” She paused, tilting her head. “Although, when the man you used to call Daddy knows people call you that, is that worse?”
“You’re asking me? Nobody calls me that. I don’t know.”
“Great. Doesn’t have a daddy kink. Noted.” Eve tapped her temple.
“You’re making a list of kinks I don’t have?”
“You have a list of kinks people put on me. I’m just levelling the playing field.”
“Okay, athlete. I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“I think it’s very necessary.”
“Of course you do.”
She laughed. In all the time since I’d last seen her, she didn’t seem to have changed much. Still large as life with a laugh you couldn’t help but pay attention to.
“That’s a great laugh,” Margot said, stopping in front of the two of us and saying the words I wouldn’t.
Margot was a woman in her mid-forties who’d gotten roped into the plane watching thing by her ex-boyfriend. She’d been surprised to find she loved it, and the group loved her, so, when they’d broken up, she’d kept the group and he’d given up on it entirely. And she’d spent my first forty-five minutes here telling me all the dirty details about said ex and the breakdown of their relationship.
“Thank you,” Eve said genuinely. “I really love your hat.”
Margot glowed. “Calvin made it,” she said, gesturing to the blonde man who was rubbing his hands together for warmth beside my dad. “He’s so talented with a pair of needles.”
“Are we talking medical or knitting?” Eve asked with a laugh.
Margot giggled like she was being flirted with, and I couldn’t tell whether she had a crush on Eve or she was simply flattered by a celebrity chatting with her.
Of course, it wasn’t particularly difficult to see why someone might have a crush on Eve—she’d stopped playing rugby, but she clearly still worked out. Even through the ski pants she was wearing, her thigh muscles were painfully obvious. And, of course, there was her warm, bubbly personality. People liked that. A lot. They always had.
Margot held out a pair of hand warmers. “Do you ladies need some of these? I have extras.”
Eve looked like all her Christmasses had come at once. “Margot, you’re a lifesaver. I haven’t been able to feel my feet properly for about fifteen minutes.”
“You’re joking, right?” I asked, more sharply than I intended.
Margot didn’t even seem to notice me, still too swept away by Eve, but Eve looked at me with soft eyes I didn’t deserve.
“Yes, I’m joking,” she said solemnly. “My feet are a little cold, but I can still feel them.”
I felt my insides burning in embarrassment at how I’d overreacted. Of course she would have said something if her circulation was genuinely struggling. She’d been a professional athlete with access to some of the world’s best doctors. There was no way she’d mess around with her feet like that.
“Well,” Margot said, inserting herself between us, “take these and put them in your shoes. They’ll warm you right up. And, if you feel like you need to get the blood flowing a little more, I’d be happy to take a lovely walk with you.”
Flirting. She definitely thought Eve was flirting.
Maybe she was. I didn’t know Eve from… Ha. Adam. I had no idea if she was single or married or in an open relationship or attracted to Margot, and it was really none of my business. Even with all of the attention she’d received over the years, Eve had kept her dating life impressively private.
Should I have backed away to give them a minute? Probably. I didn’t move, though.
Eve smiled and patted Margot’s shoulder in thanks. “I’ll keep the offer in mind, and, in the meantime, thanks for these. I can already feel them warming me up.”
Margot giggled again. “You haven’t even activated them, silly.”
“I know. Just the anticipation of warmth is enough to get me going.”
I shot Eve a look. That was one hell of a conversational choice with a woman who was clearly quite taken with her. She simply smiled back at me like nothing untoward had happened. I didn’t think she was that clueless, though. The Eve I’d known in school was sharp, attentive. She wouldn’t have missed the undercurrent of the conversation.
Was that a sign she wanted me to leave them to it? It didn’t look like it, not with the way she was smiling at me, but who was to say, really?
“Oh, well,” Margot said, blushing and stumbling over her words. “I’m glad I could be of service.”
“And I truly appreciate it,” Eve replied, looking both so smug and so sincere at the same time that it was difficult to read her.
“Yes. You, erm, well, you let me know if you need a… buddy for a walk.”
“Will do.”
Margot walked away, seeming more than a little dazed. I watched with narrowed eyes until she was out of earshot. “You did that on purpose,” I accused as Eve held one knee in the air, stripping her boot off to place a hand warmer inside.
“Did what?” she asked, her voice the picture of innocence.
“You know what.”
“I’ve got no idea what you mean.”
I groaned. “That poor woman thought you were flirting with her and you… leaned into it.”
She shot me a grin before focusing on tying her laces again, leg still up in the air. Her core muscles must be outstanding.
“Do you think she wants to call me… Daddy?” She dropped her voice to a low, suggestive whisper on the last word.
“I have no idea. And, frankly, no interest in knowing the answer.”
“Oh, really?.”
“Are you interested in knowing?” I stood up straighter, the muscles in my back tensing in the cold.
She smirked at me and switched legs to hold her other knee up. “No, but it is always flattering when someone’s into you.”
“Into you and calling you Daddy are not the same thing.”
“They’re not, but…” She sighed heavily, something almost imperceptible passing over her expression, and nodded towards Margot. “It is my experience that it’s always the unexpected ones who want to call me those names. And it’s best to know if they do. It’s also my experience that being friendly with fans brightens their day and makes them feel a little better about themselves. No losers.”
I was starting to wonder whether she wasn’t quite as relaxed about the names as she made out. “Except the poor partner waiting at home for you while you flirt with everyone you meet.”
She laughed, placing both feet on the floor again, and moved to stand in front of me. “No partners waiting at home. Nobody to get jealous over supposed flirting. Nobody gets hurt. I’m just doing my bit to make the world a better place. Though, my imaginary other half thanks you for your concern.”
“What about their partners?” I asked, unsure why I was pushing the issue so much.
“What about them? I’m pretty sure Margot’s single from what she’s said.”
Probably a direct and conscious notification that she’s single and available if the flirting was anything to go by. Even if she had spent ample time telling me the same thing…
“Well,” I said slowly, “if it were my partner flirting with a famous, gorgeous athlete, I think I’d be a little jealous.”
A light blush spread across her cheeks. “You think I’m gorgeous?”
“No.” I looked around wildly. “I’m just saying, I think other people might think you are. And what about their poor partners then?”
She laughed. “If it ever becomes an issue, I’ll let you know. But, most of those people who try flirting with me generally also want me to know they’re single or available.”
“Right.”
Of course they did. People were hitting on her to try to date her. For a million reasons. And, even if they weren’t, lots of people had crushes on celebrities. Maybe it only seemed weird to me because I remembered Eve at school. Biology, double period, Friday afternoons our whole final year. The last class we ever had in that place. Together, in the stuffy lab. There was something of a disconnect between someone I’d known in real life and what celebrity life must be like.
“Hey, Fia,” she said, not seeming nearly as thrown by the conversation as I was.
“Yes?”
“Do you fancy a walk? My feet still need warming up.”
“You don’t want to ask Margot?”
She laughed. “Maybe next time.”
I could do with a walk. It was cold, and it would be nice to move around, and, well, she was asking me. “Sure.”
Chapter Four
Eve
We circled the parking lot and, thanks to the hand warmers and activity, my feet were feeling a lot better—as was the rest of me. Still, I wasn’t quite ready to just head back and join everyone else. Fia was talking. She was interesting.
“Did you drive here?” I asked, nodding at the cars.
“No. Just walked. It only takes about a day.”
I shook my head, unable to keep the smile off my face. She was so sarcastic. “Oh, so you’re really committed to this whole thing, then? Setting off a day in advance just to watch an EasyJet flight take off for Geneva.”
“Mm. Yes. I couldn’t bear to miss it. You know, rare as it is.”
I laughed. “No. Did you drive your own car or come in your dad’s?”
She frowned, the cutest pucker appearing between her brows. It should have been illegal to look so adorable. “My dad’s car. What difference does it make?”
“Okay.” I clapped my hands together. “Alistair. Man of taste and class.”
“You’re talking about my dad?”
“Yes. The man who named his daughter Ophelia Pendrick, like she’d just walked in from a fantasy novel.”
She rolled her eyes, and I loved it. Loved the pretend exasperation glistening in the kaleidoscopic hazel depths of her irises, and the amusement it was concealing.
After all this time, Fia still played her cards close to her chest. I couldn’t blame her for it. I knew better than anyone what happened when too much of you was given away to the world. It suited me just fine most of the time but it wasn’t for everyone. Yet, even with that—perhaps, especially because of that—getting to amuse her, getting to understand her, felt like the best thing ever.
“Just wait until you learn my middle name,” she quipped, walking just a touch faster in a way that said she wasn’t about to give it up that easily.
I cast my mind back. I had to know it, right? Had to have heard it? We hadn’t gone to one of those schools where middle names were regularly used, but plenty of peoples’ came up. However, if it was as interesting as she was implying, it seemed unlikely I’d have forgotten it.
“Huh,” I said out loud, speeding up to catch her. “I don’t remember ever hearing it.”
“Good.” She laughed lightly, almost despite herself. “I mean, I love it, but if you already think my name sounds made up…”
“I didn’t say that. I love your name.”
“Well, yours is from a book too.”
I chuckled ruefully. “Yeah, interestingly, not the reason my parents picked it.”
“Oh, no?” She stopped—right in front of my car, I realised belatedly—and turned to look at me. “They didn’t think you’d go eating from the Tree of Knowledge?”
Margot had been flirting. She’d been very clear about it. Fia’s comment could be flirting, but I didn’t trust that it was. Still, something in my stomach tightened under her gaze, dark and questioning, and, god, why did she have to be so damn beautiful?
I cleared my throat and turned to sit on the hood—the bonnet of my car.
“What are you doing?” she asked, looking around frantically. “You can’t just sit on people’s cars!”
I tapped the bonnet beside me. “Don’t worry. I own this one.”
She relaxed. “Oh.” For a moment, her eyes ran over the vehicle, appraising it. “Oh.”
“An overwhelming verdict.”
“No. Sorry.” She shook her head and stepped back a tiny bit. “I just expected…”
I grinned. “Something more American? Cadillac, Dodge Ram, Chevy Suburban?”
“As if you could drive anything that big around Eddlesworth.” She shot me a look. “But, don’t avoid the question.”
Of course. As sharp as ever. I sighed. Was she flirting or not? Flirting or not…? “Let’s say, I don’t think they have any problems with me eating from whichever trees I choose.”
Something flared in her eyes like she thought I was still copping out on answering but couldn’t decide why. “Okay,” she finally said, stepping back again. “Now, do you want to tell me what you were getting at with my dad being a man of taste?”
I laughed, standing up from my car. “I’m surprised you didn’t take drama with those acting skills,” I said of the accent and attitude she’d put on.
She waved me off. She really was more confident than she’d been in school, but I suspected this version had been inside her all along. For as long as I’d known her, there had been a fire inside her. Sure, she’d been shy and behaved, but she’d also been more than happy to deviate from the peer mentor guidelines to actually engage with Sophie. She’d been carving her own path, even then. You didn’t do that without a little fire inside you.
I checked for moving vehicles before standing in the middle of the path and turning slowly. “I’m going to guess which car in this parking lot belongs to your dad.”
She breathed a quiet laugh, one clearly not intended for me, but I heard it and I turned to face her again.
She bit down on her smile, trying unsuccessfully to hide it. “Carry on,” she prompted.
“Not until you tell me why that’s so amusing to you.”
“It’s not.”
“Do you always laugh at unamusing things?”
“More than you’d think.”
“Oh, of course. It’s just your style to walk down the street laughing at shops, lawns, bins.”
Her smile grew wider on the last word.
“What?” I asked, laughing even though I didn’t know what we were laughing at. I just wanted to be amused with her.
“Nothing,” she insisted, turning back to the cars. “Tell me what your guess is.”
Without thinking it through, I reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back into me. It was only when she stumbled that I thought through the fact that she likely wasn’t as used to tactile contact as I was. I steadied her and let go. “Sorry.”
She shook her head, her gaze fixed somewhere around my chin. “You’re good.”
“Great. So, tell me what we’re laughing about.”
She glanced up and her eyes looked so brown with the way the light hit them, just the tiniest flashes of green streaking through them. I knew in that moment that hazel eyes would always be my favourite.
“You said ‘parking lot’.” She breathed the words, only loud enough because of my proximity.
“Okay?” I frowned in confusion.
“But you also said ‘bin’.”
“Oh, I see.” The penny well and truly dropped.
“I just think it’s interesting which words and phrases people hold onto from their home language, and the ones they change. Those that stick around even after they go home.”
