“Luciano?” Benedito asks.
I give him a quick smile. “I’ll be right back. Excuse me.”
I talk to Benedito on a daily basis, so I know he won’t feel slighted by me bailing on him like this. I have to know why Ruby just left.
I spot Marco talking to this asshole from Benfica, Lisbon’s other team. I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to get another client, even though I personally would rather him not go for one of my biggest rivals.
“Marco,” I say to him, giving Paulo a stiff fuck off smile. I can’t tell you how many times this asshole has done some dirty foul moves to get the ball past me.
“Luciano,” Marco says, looking annoyed. “I’m in the middle of something.”
“I just saw Ruby leave.”
“She probably needs some time alone,” he says flippantly.
“Why?”
Marco gives Paulo an apologetic smile and then leans into me, whispering in my ear. “Her mother overdosed or something.”
Holy shit.
“Or something? Is she alive?”
Marco motions for me to keep my voice down. “I don’t know. But her mother was in prison. Prison, Luciano. Did you know that?”
I look him dead in the eyes. “Yeah. I did. And I can’t believe you’re just letting her walk off like that.”
“Of course you knew.” He rolls his eyes. “Look, she needs time to figure it all out. I’ll see her later.”
He pats my shoulder and then goes back to talking to Paulo.
I stare at my brother, feeling rage flood through me.
I’m usually so even-keeled, but it’s taking everything in me not to punch him right in the fucking face for that. With Paulo here and all the cameras, it would do more harm than good.
I turn and stride toward the doors, stepping past the cameras and into the night.
Only a few of them take my picture—from my posture and expression, I think most can tell I’m not in the mood.
I have no idea where Ruby could have gone, so I start walking in one direction, texting her as I go. Where are you?
It feels strange to text her after going so long without it. When she left me that morning after the horse show, I had to stop myself many times from reaching out to her. When she was working for me, it felt like second nature, and I’d come to look forward to it. Every text put a smile on my face, especially the nonsensical ones, so the last few weeks having no contact with her at all have been hollow, to say the least.
But seeing her tonight? That’s been a tonic to my spirit. She’s the breath of fresh air in that whole stuffy room, and it’s been hell to try and keep my eyes off her all night.
I’ve walked down one block and am about to turn around and head back down the other when she finally texts back.
By some playground
That doesn’t help me much, but then I remember seeing a playground when we drove in.
I keep walking and go around the corner and there she is, lit beneath orange street lamps, sitting on a swing set, her red dress trailing on the ground as she slowly moves back and forth.
Ruby, Ruby, Ruby.
I want to go over to her, pick her up in my arms, comfort her, tell her everything is going to be alright, even if it isn’t. But that’s not who I am to her. That’s not my place. That’s Marco’s job.
But I am here as her friend. At least there is that.
“Ruby,” I say gently as I approach her. She’s got her fingers wrapped around the chains of the swing, and she’s staring dejectedly at nothing.
I slowly sit down on the swing next her, even though I barely fit on the seat. I glance up at the creaking beam above and hope I’m not about to bring the whole thing down.
When she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even acknowledge me, I say, “Marco told me what happened.”
She nods once, licking her lips. “Did he now?”
“He said your mother overdosed. Is she…is she okay?”
She finally looks at me, her eyes look glazed and tired. “You know, he didn’t even ask me if she was alive or not.”
I swallow down the anger. “Is she?”
“Yeah,” she says, looking down at the hem of her dress covered in dirt. “She’s alive. That’s all I know.”
“How did you find out?”
“My dad called.”
“How is he taking it?”
She shrugs. “Beats the hell out of me. The only reason he told me is so that I could suffer over here, not being able to do anything.”
My first instinct is to assure her that her father loves her and that I’m sure that’s not what he tried to do. But then I remember the things she’s said about him before. And I know my relationship with both my father and stepfather. How shitty those relationships can be, how easily people can dismiss it. The world loves to pretend that your parents are perfect and can do no wrong, but parents are nothing but human beings. And sometimes they’re the type of humans you wouldn’t want to be in a dark alley with.
So I ask, “Is your father really like that?”
She sucks in her lower lip and glances at me sadly. “Yeah. He is.” Exhaling loudly she looks away. “And now Marco knows that I’m white trash. Not that he didn’t suspect it before. I don’t know why he fucking brought me here.”
To spite his father.
But I don’t say it.
What a fucked-up bunch we are.
“I’m sorry he’s been acting that way,” I tell her, trying to be as diplomatic as possible, but it’s hard. “Marco gets into a certain zone when he’s around people in the industry.”
“You can say that again.
