Page 2 of Flawless

Looking up, I make eye contact with him.

“You’ve got company out in the hallway.”

Wrapping my towel tighter around me, I step around Mattia and head for the doors while the rest of the team continues celebrating.

When I step outside of the locker room, I see my ex-wife, Larisa, and Zílda standing there waiting for me.

“Hey,” Larisa says breathlessly.

She’s wearing a pair of denim cutoff shorts that barely covers her ass and a tight tank top. She’s got a pair of Chuck Taylors on her feet, and her hair is pulled back in a ponytail. Dark sunglasses cover her eyes as she walks up to me.

“What took you so long?” I ask, leaning in and kissing her cheek. “You missed the game.”

“I know. I missed our flight because Zílda got sick, and I had to change her clothes at the last minute. Poor baby, she vomited all over them,” she says, sliding a finger down our daughter’s cheek.

Larisa turns her blue-eyed gaze my way and says in that thick Russian accent, “We had to catch the next available flight. I tried calling you and texting you, but you know.”

She shrugs her shoulders as though it’s not a big deal at all.

“No, I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m guessing you were on the field,” she says, throwing her hand up.

I take our daughter from her arms and kiss my baby girl’s chubby cheek.

“How’s daddy’s favorite girl?” I ask as she grabs my face with her tiny hands and presses her nose to mine.

“Papai!” she babbles.

My daughter just turned two years old three weeks ago, and she’s as much the joy of my life as she was the day that she was born. Somehow, I seem to love her more and more each day.

“So, I uh...have this thing that I want to attend tonight. I was wondering if you’d be able to keep her,” Larisa says.

“Ris, come on. You know that we’ve got back-to-back celebrations tonight.”

“I’m sure that you can skip out on them. Your teammates will understand.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you? We just won the World Cup, and somehow you manage to even make that all about you.”

“God, Zenon! How often do I get to come to Italy? Usually, it’s you coming to pick her up and flying her back here. I just want to have some fun while I’m here,” she whines as I nuzzle my daughter’s cheek. “Besides, the divorce was finalized last week. Don’t I deserve to celebrate?”

“And you will. Just not tonight,” I say, handing Zílda back to her mother. “I’ll pick her up in the morning, but tonight...I’m celebrating.”

“God, you’re so selfish,” she complains. “Is it another woman?”

“No, it’s not. And to think I thought it was you who was selfish. Look, Ris, we celebrated every accomplishment you made during our three years of marriage. Tonight, it’s my turn. I worked hard to get where I’m at. I’ll be there to pick her up in the morning. I need to get showered and dressed so that I can get out of here,” I say, kissing Zílda’s cheeks again and then walking away from Larisa, ignoring the groans and complaints.

***

The house is full of guests on every level, including inside and around the swimming pool and the tennis courts down below.I mingle with a few people before making my way through the crowd.

“Hey, buddy. They’ve got some good shit up there on the third level. Last room on the right with the pink door,” Lorenzo, one of my teammates, says.

“Maybe you need to lay off the shit, good or bad,” I say, clasping his shoulders tightly.

Lorenzo sways just a bit and chuckles. His eyes are red, and he’s got a faraway, distant look in his eyes. I usually avoid these parties, but at the behest of Coach Esposito, I showed up tonight. It’s being thrown by one of our team’s sponsors, and Coach emphasized the importance of me showing my face.

That’s the only reason that I didn’t allow Larisa to get by with what she always does. Too many times in the past, I’ve canceled plans so that either she or we could do something else that she wanted to do. My coach is also aware of that.

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