Page 12 of The Game

“I keep my head down and ignore it. I’m lucky enough to have had success in the past and sponsorship so I can pay for people to take some of the heat. At one time, my parents did a lot for me. Sometimes I have to do these things …” She waves her hand around the car. “… but mostly I just practice and play.”

I stare out of the window. “Yeah. Gloss over the shit bits, right?”

Her eyes widen. “I didn’t mean to imply that going out with you isn’t enjoyable, I …”

I shake my head. “I didn’t take it that way at all. There are parts of my job I dislike, too.”

She laughs. “Yes! Losing. Doing deals, like sponsorship. I hate that. I have an agent, so that makes it less …” She waggles her hand back and forward. “… Like I’m selling my soul.”

I laugh. “What’s this event tonight?”

“A sports personality award.”

“Are you up for it?”

She shakes her head. “I haven’t even been shortlisted. But one of the brands that sponsor me sponsors this event, so …”

“Anything I need to be aware of? People you want to stab, dicks we’re avoiding, that kind of thing?”

She bursts out laughing. “Interesting question. It would be sensible to chat about it.”

And we’re off as she fills me in on all the people who will be at the awards and the various rivalries going on between them. It’s riveting.

In no time at all, the limousine pulls up at the American Museum of Natural History, cameras flashing outside the car’s tinted windows. A man in a tuxedo opens Anna’s door, and she steps out onto a red carpet. Everything slows like molasses, my breath a strange rasp in my head as my shoe lands on a strangely synthetic sea of red, and I pull myself upright, blinking like a mole as lights flicker and pulse and people shout from all sides.

And then we have to stand and pose. People shout questions at Anna about who’s accompanying her tonight—I realize with a start they mean me—and about where someone named Arty Maroz is, but she only smiles back. When we get inside, the main hall is like a coral sea, multicolored lights panning across the ceiling with a huge blue whale suspended over the space, beautiful yellow flowers on every table. Everything shimmers: the people, the lights, the dresses.

And the evening morphs into a whirlwind of faces and names. At some point, Anna’s fingers curl around my arm and I keep her tucked up under my elbow, my eyes fixed on her as she transforms into the confident chatty person I saw in the post-match interviews. Thank God I don’t have to be on like this in my work, it would be exhausting, and I’m warm and light inside as I stand and watch her talk and smile and nod. No one is interested in me. I’m just the arm candy. I chuckle to myself: I wonder whether Janus had these exact same thoughts when he did this. If only my business could follow in his footsteps so easily.

And later, when the car pulls up to take us home, a man and a woman I don’t recognize climb into the back seats with us.

“Adam, this is June and Damian. They work on my social media and PR.”

June nods at me and smacks gum. Damian’s gaze tracks down my body and smirks.Okay. I nod at them as though having two marketing people in a limousine with me at midnight happens every night of the week. As soon aswe’re settled, they start scrolling through their phones and talking to Anna about the coverage that’s appearing, comments about her hair, her dress, my suit, who I am. It sounds terrifying. As we drop them both off in Harlem, June blows Anna a kiss and promises a full report tomorrow. When the door shuts, Anna leans back on her headrest and closes her eyes. I study her pale face. The last thing she needs is to feel she has to talk to me, too. I turn my head and examine my reflection in the car window as the lights of the store windows zip past.

“Thank you for tonight. You’ve been very easy and supportive and that’s made everything so simple for me,” she says quietly, and when I twist my head toward her, her eyes are still closed.

I have? I provided my support to another lady once. Unease spreads across my shoulders.

“My pleasure. It was good to meet you. I was happy to help out.”

“Janus is a godsend.” A smile curls over her lips. “He’s completely smitten with his fiancée. God, I followed all the comments about that relationship so closely. When he did that thing with theWall Street Journal…” She waves her hand. “That was so romantic.”

The hairs on the back of my neck prickle. Was she ever in a relationship withJanus? Perhaps that’s why he was insistent about this favor, and it was nothing to do with encouraging me to get out more.

“Did you and Janus ever …”

But she shakes her head before I finish. “No. He’s an amazing guy but energetic and impatient and completely subsumed in his company. Don’t get me wrong, I really recognize the drive and admire him for it, but I don’t think either of us would have thought we were right for each other.” She laughs. “And there’s the small matter that I travel for ten months of the year.” She stares out of the window. “All the girls adored him, though.”

“The girls?”

She turns her head on the back of the seat with a quirky grin. “The women he accompanied to events.”

“I still can’t believe this happens.”

“Word gets around about the jackasses. It’s actually kind of essential.”

Yeah, that makes sense. A frown drifts across her face, so I shift the conversation back to Janus. “Women loved him at college, too … once he lost the weight.”

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