The Summer Games: Settling the Score

  I reached back and gripped her arm to drag her off the carpet. There would be no honest interviews as long as she was present. I pulled her into the party and bypassed the coat check and the cocktails. I found the first quiet corner and turned to lay into her.

  “I’m not playing this game, Caroline.”

  She laughed, all signs of tears and sickness completely gone. I knew it’d been an act, but it was still jarring to see how quickly she could change characters. Truly, I’d have nominated her for an Oscar had she not been attempting to ruin my life.

  “Do you hear me, Caroline? This isn’t a game.”

  “I know, Frederick. Games have multiple outcomes, but the sport we’re playing only has one.”

  She was pulling something out of her purse then, a small, square piece of paper. It took me a fraction of a second to realize what it was. A fraction of a second was all it took for my life to come screeching to a halt before my eyes. A fraction of a second was all it took…

  “I was hoping to surprise you under more positive circumstances, but after your little outburst, I suppose tonight will do.” She held the square photo up against her stomach for me to see. “Meet your future child, Freddie.”

  I HELD THE sonogram in my hand, stunned. “But how…”

  She laughed. “When two people have unprotected intercourse, Frederick, sometimes—”

  “Shut up. Just shut up.”

  I couldn’t stand her mocking me.

  “What a way to speak to the mother of your child.”

  “I’m going to be sick.”

  “Do try not to get anything on your suit. I’d like to get a few photos of the two of us dressed up. They’ll need a proper photo to run with the pregnancy news.”

  My body was shaking with an angry, uncontrollable current. “I won’t let you do this to me.”

  She smiled. “Oh yes you will Frederick. You know why? Because you love that little American whore, and you wouldn’t want to make things worse for her.”

  I nearly slapped her then. My hand stopped within an inch of her cheek before I remembered we were in the middle of a party.

  She tutted. “Striking a pregnant woman?” She brushed my hand away. “Really, Frederick? Don’t make this harder for yourself than it has to be.”

  “I won’t ever love you.”

  She laughed. “I don’t want your love. I just want to be Her Grace, the Duchess of Farlington.”

  Her words hardly surprised me any more. “I’m getting a paternity test.”

  “Wise.” She smiled before leaning forward and grabbing hold of my tie. “I assure you though, my dear fiancé, you are the father of this baby.”

  The color drained from my face. If this was true and Caroline was pregnant with my child, I had no one to blame but myself. I always used protection, but that last night I’d seen Caroline before Rio was fuzzy. We’d been at my friend’s flat together. I’d spotted her across the room and once I’d stumbled over, she’d gotten me a glass of water and sat me down. Sometime after that, I’d invited her back to my flat so we could have a chat. I wanted to get to know the woman I was supposed to marry. I wanted to know if she was funny or dull, shy or confident.

  I had thought she’d turn me down, but she’d come willingly. She’d taken a seat on my couch and unbuttoned her shirt all on her own. I remembered grappling with my equilibrium as I watched her undress. The details were so muddled; I wasn’t sure who made the first move, but I did remember fucking her there, too drunk to register the gravity of the situation.

  She was gone in the morning, but she’d left a note beneath a pastry on my kitchen counter.

  Perhaps this doesn’t have to be so bad… - C

  I saw red. Caroline stared up at me with her big, round eyes. I wanted to kill her then. I could have killed her. The supposed mother of my child. She was evil incarnate and I wanted her out of my life once and for all. I reached down and squeezed the hand she had clamped around my tie. Her brows furrowed and her delicate features contorted in pain.

  “That hurts, Frederick.”

  Her voice was smaller then, lighter and panicked. It felt good to remind her how quickly the tables could turn. She could plot her moves and weasel her way into my life, but there was no denying how easy it would be take back control. One hand around her neck and Caroline would be gone.

  “Frederick, you’re scaring me.”

  I squeezed tighter. I wanted to break her like she was breaking me. “Even if you have this child, I’m going to stay with Andie. I will never marry you, Caroline.”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  “We’ll share custody and communicate through solicitors, nothing more,” I continued.

  “No, Frederick, once again you’re too slow,” she said, scraping her nails against my hand until I finally released her. She took two steps back and slid the sonogram into her purse. “You’ll realize soon enough that you have no choice but to marry me and make me your wife.”

  Her sly smile was enough to do me in.

  I raked my hands through my hair. “How could you be so bloody delusional?”

  “Because if you think the world hates your precious Andie for being the object of your disloyal desires for one night, just think how much they’ll despise her once they hear she’s conspiring to break up a family.”

  “No.” I shook my head.

  She sent a smile to a wandering party guest then glanced back at me. “If you don’t stop, I won’t stop. Not until you’ve lost everything, Frederick.” She leaned forward and tipped her heels to kiss my cheek. “The sooner you realize that, the better.”

  She slipped back into the party and I stood rooted to my spot in the corner. The entire world continued on around me, but I stood there with numb senses. Waiters passed with trays of drinks and food. Party guests stepped around me. Laughter and chatter and music and life continued on, but I stared at a singular spot on the wall. The sound of my rapidly beating heart was enough to fill my ears. I didn’t hear Georgie when she stepped up beside me and jostled my arm. I watched her lips move, but I was a world away.

  Was I truly about to become a father?

  Had Caroline manipulated my life so easily that there was no way out?

  I blinked and Georgie was there, trying to gain my attention. I blinked again and she was gone.

  Eventually, I moved. I turned for the doors of the party and walked toward them in a daze. Someone reached out to grab my arm and ask me a question, but I jerked away from them and continued on without so much as a second glance. People were flooding through the doors, smiling and laughing. How could everyone else be so happy? Couldn’t they see what was happening? Couldn’t they see?

  “Freddie.”

  Andie’s voice was the first thing to break through the static. Her fingers wove through mine as she pulled me aside. I’d nearly stepped out of the party, but she was there, pulling me toward her, pulling me out of the fog.

  “I have to go,” I said, staring at her lips. They were always an irresistible shade of pink, plump and beautiful. I’d miss her lips.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head and trying to catch my eye. I wouldn’t let her leave me. “The party just started. Stay. I need to see you. Stay.”

  She was magnificent in that black dress, small, and subtle, and real. I reached out to run my finger along her collarbone, feeling her inhale a sharp breath. I’d miss that skin, just above her breasts. She was extra sensitive there and I knew if I leaned down and pressed my mouth against her, she’d crumble in my arms.

  “I’m leaving,” I said, my voice nearly unrecognizable.

  Her hand squeezed around mine, trying to force me to stay. It wasn’t the same as Caroline’s touch. When Caroline grabbed my tie, it was with a vengeance. Andie touched with love and need and passion. I’d miss her touch.

  “Caroline is pregnant.”

  Her hand slipped away from mine.

  One second she was there, begging me to stay, and the next she was stepping back and sh
aking her head, already losing sight of us. I’d taken her into that broom closet and I’d tried to show her how good we could be together. This was too much though, even for my Andie.

  “What do you mean?” Her voice was shaking.

  She was crying and I was stepping back, giving her the space Caroline demanded.

  “She’s pregnant.”

  I leaned forward to wipe the tears from her cheeks, but she turned her head away before I could.

  “Don’t.”

  I’d never had my heart broken by a single word before.

  She spun around and walked away from me then. I wanted to shout out after her.

  Don’t go.

  Don’t leave me.

  Don’t end this.

  She was already gone though, weaving through the party as fast as she could. She was putting as much distance between us as possible, building on don’t until it wasn’t just a word, it was a wall.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Freddie

  I LEANED FORWARD in the elevator and punched the number for Andie’s floor before I could change my mind. The Sports Illustrated party had ended a few hours before, but I’d left early and taken a cab around Rio. I’d been in the city for weeks and had yet to see anything beyond the village and the pool. The city was alive in a way I hadn’t realized before. The streets were warm and colorful and loud. Music streamed out of the bars and restaurants we passed, setting a backdrop for the drive. I watched as friends and couples fell out of bars, laughing and hanging on one another. Everyone was out on the town, partying and inhaling life in a way I never had before. I found myself wishing I could be one of the people on the streets, a normal bloke with a pint in his hand, without a worry in the world.

  I told the cabbie to keep driving until we’d wound through what felt like most of the city’s streets. By the time we made it back to the village, I could finally breathe again. It’d been nearly three hours since Andie had walked away from me and I already missed her.

  I leaned forward and punched the number for her floor again, willing the elevator to speed up.

  I’d had time to think, and now I needed to see her.

  The hallway leading to her door was quiet enough that as I knocked, I could hear voices murmuring inside.

  I couldn’t help but smile a little as Becca whipped the door open and tilted her head, confused.

  “Freddie? What are you doing here?”

  “Is Andie here?” I asked tentatively. I wasn’t sure if Andie had already told her the pregnancy news or not; I had half a mind to cover my face in case a punch was coming my way.

  “Is that Andie?” Kinsley shouted from the living room. “Tell her that I’m mad at her for disappearing at the party!”

  Becca rolled her eyes. “No! It’s Freddie!”

  “Oh! HI FREDDIE!”

  I tugged my hands through my hair. “Becca, is Andie in there?”

  She frowned and glanced back to Andie’s open bedroom door. “No. Didn’t she tell you? She’s hanging out with Georgie. I’m not sure when they’ll be back.”

  Ah. That explained the aggressive text messages I’d been receiving from Georgie for the last two hours.

  Georgie: You’ve royally screwed up this time. I mean honestly, Fred, what were you thinking?!

  Georgie: I’ll strangle you myself if you got that mad cow pregnant. She’s bonkers and her spawn will be bonkers too.

  Georgie: Oh my god. She’s probably going to call it Paprika, or Apple, or god forbid—Caroline Jr.

  Georgie: I will not have a niece called CAROLINE JR!

  “Right.” I fisted my hands to keep from dragging them through my hair for the hundredth time. “Could you tell her I stopped by when she gets home?”

  I could see the pity in her eyes as she nodded. She felt sorry for me, the bloke chasing after Andie. It was an unfamiliar sensation to lose the chase, and as I walked back to the elevator bank, defeated, I wondered if maybe I’d never had Andie at all.

  “Freddie!”

  I turned back to see Becca running down the hall after me. She gripped my arm once she’d reached me and her gaze flitted back and forth between my eyes.

  “You aren’t just toying with her, are you? Andie?”

  I frowned.

  “The last few days have been hell for her. She’s been so stressed about her wrist. She’s got that doctor’s appointment tomorrow; did she tell you?” I shook my head and she continued. “Yeah. They’re going to do a full MRI, and then she’s got to hope they clear her for the final game. And that’s not even half of it, Freddie. She can hardly leave our condo without people trying to take her picture or call her names. Even the girls on our team have turned on her the past few days.” I winced and she gripped my arm tighter. “I’m not blaming you, and I’m not even telling you to back off or anything. I just want to know. I want you to look me in the eye and tell me you aren’t subjecting her to slings and arrows for sport.”

  She was staring up at me with such earnest desperation that three little words slipped out before I’d even fully thought them over.

  “I love her.”

  Her mouth dropped open. She shook her head and stuttered, “Y-you what?”

  I sighed. “Becca, I love her. Tell her I stopped by, will you. Please?”

  “Of course.”

  I nodded and turned away.

  “If it matters, Freddie,” she called out behind me. “I’m rooting for you two.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Andie

  “ANDIE, THERE’S NO shame in coming home to take care of yourself. Your dad and I have been making calls, and we’ve found the best orthopedic wrist specialist in the country—Dr. Weinberg. He worked with both of the Williams sisters!”

  “I’ll think about it, Mom.”

  I knew it’d been a mistake to answer her call while I waited for the doctor to see me. I’d done it on purpose, assuming she’d be a good distraction from thoughts of Freddie, but now I wasn’t sure which I preferred: listening to my mom tell me to give up or losing myself in thoughts about a pregnant Caroline.

  “You can fly home and Dad and I can pick you up from the airport. You can watch the final game here, with us.”

  She was basically describing my worst nightmare, and she didn’t even realize it.

  “Mom. I’m staying in Rio. I’m going to play in the final.”

  “I don’t think that’s a smart idea, sweetie.”

  I was angry at her dismissiveness, but I figured it was out of ignorance, not condescension. She’d never played soccer at an Olympic level. She thought she knew how hard I’d worked to get to where I was, but she wasn’t inside my body. Every late night practice, every extra mile, every extra rep, every single drop of sweat and blood my body had given would all be for nothing if I left Rio without playing in the final. Soccer took so much out of me. Sprains, bruises, strains—there wasn’t a part of my body soccer had left untouched.

  “Mom, the doctor is coming in. I have to go.”

  It was a lie, but it got her off the phone. She made me promise to call her after the appointment wrapped up, but I knew I wouldn’t.

  “Ms. Foster.”

  A soft knock sounded on the door behind me and I turned to look over my shoulder as the doctor strolled in. He had my chart tucked under his arm; inside it, he had my MRI scans and injury reports—everything he needed to stamp out my dreams for good.

  “How are you?” he asked, glancing at me over the top of his black-framed glasses after he’d taken a seat in his leather chair.

  I cradled my wrist in my lap and nodded. “It feels fine.”

  “I meant how are you, overall. Your team played quite well in their last game,” he noted.

  During our last appointment, he hadn’t bothered with small talk. Why was he doing it this time?

  I shrugged. “I’m fine. And it wasn’t pretty, but a win is a win.”

  He nodded. “Right. Well, Lisa has updated me on your physical therapy and I’ve taken
a look at today’s imaging.” He motioned to my wrist. “Let’s do a quick exam and then we can continue talking.”

  I’d prepared myself for this moment. I knew he’d do the same exercises he’d done during the first exam and I’d trained myself to mask every single emotion. When he pressed on my wrist and asked if it hurt, I shook my head. “No.”

  “What about now?” he asked, gently rotating my wrist in a circle.

  It wasn’t necessarily a lie when I told him it didn’t hurt. A week earlier, the same motion would have inspired every curse word known to man. Now, it was nothing more than a dull ache—completely manageable in my opinion.

  “You understand that this appointment was set up so that I could clear you for the final in two days?”

  I nodded.

  “I don’t think the sprain has fully healed. You’ve told me it feels better, but the body doesn’t lie.” He pointed to my two wrists lying flat on his desk. “You can still see the swelling surrounding your wrist. It’s gone down, but it’s clear you’re still healing from the injury.”

  I pulled my hands off the table tucked them beneath the desk. “So what are you saying?”

  “I can’t clear you for the game.” He tugged off his glasses and massaged his nose like he was the one in pain.

  “Are you kidding?”

  “Lisa has said you’ve improved—”

  “More than improved. My wrist is fine. The swelling is from the exercises, not the injury.”

  His mouth pulled into a tight, grim line. “I’m sorry, Ms. Foster, but your coach will want to know my opinion and I’ll have to tell her my conclusion, based on the evidence.”

  I jerked up from my chair and the metal feet scraped against the floor. “Is anything broken?”

  He sat back in shock. “Well, no—”

  “Then that’s all you need to report. Whether or not I play isn’t your call.”

  He furrowed his brows, and I swallowed, hoping I was getting through to him.