Page 42 of Duchess Material

“Well, it’s fine as long as I have you there,” Winston said. “I’m happy to be spending time with you. Oh, and dog sitter is sorted. It’s all good.”

“Uh huh.” Lucy drifted off.

Soon, the sound of her long, deep breaths overwhelmed him. She was out. Winston fell asleep next, at peace.

9

THE FUCK UP

Ed woke the day after his breakdown with Natalie, hoping it was only a nightmare. Usually, Natalie sent him an early morning message. Today, it was radio silence. He was gutted. He was knackered. Ed barely slept after coming home. He’d turned into bed and stared at the ceiling for seemingly hours.

It was awful. He did not want to move on. What happened? How had a simple question led to her throwing him out? To complicate matters, Ed had to meet his agent today. There was a proposal on the table.

Ed dusted himself off. He looked nonchalant as he headed into central London for his meeting. He wanted to shout at the paps that they ruined everything with Natalie. He should have been livid. He should have wanted to scream at her. However, he loved her too much. All he wanted to do was talk to her. He wanted to make up. He wanted to assure her he could handle it. Still, maybe she was right? Maybe Ed would never be enough? He felt firmly she was The One, though.

Ed tossed his keys to a valet and trotted off to the meeting with his agent, Jason Mitchell. Jason was sought-after. To even get represented by such a star as a swimmer—not a footballer or rugby player—was remarkable. Ed had someone clung to acclaim despite being a washed-up-has-been in his own mind. Anytime he tried to keep up with youngsters, he felt his mortality keenly.

“Ed, glad you could come by today,” Jason said.

Ed sat. An assistant entered with cappuccinos.

“Thanks,” Ed said to the woman. He turned back to Jason. “Glad to be by. What is it about?”

“NBC Sports in the States… you know them?”

Ed furrowed his brow. “I do.”

“They want to have you host the events coming up to the swimming and diving world championships. You’d be on a panel with Tom Rhodes and Katie Morrison.”

Tom was a storied British Diver and one of the UK’s most beloved Olympians in recent history. Morrison was an amazing swimmer with a career like Ed’s—wunderkind, top-notch education while she swam, marked by many Olympic runs.

Ed stammered. “Wow. I’m honoured. Uh, that would be a dream team. I met Katie when I was a kid at a swim camp in California and she was… just a force of nature. A hardass but… amazing. And Tom is always a joy.”

“So, you’ll do it?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m guessing it’s not the most lucrative thing and I’m not looking to spend the rest of my thirties shirtless.”

“It’s not too lucrative for a footballer, but the money is decent for a swimmer. More than decent, alright?”

“Then what is the issue, Jace?”

“Oh, well, you’re in a relationship. And I’d not bring it up but… I didn’t think you’d want to spend weeks on the road over the next eight months. At the same time, if the three of you work well, you could be the swimming panel for the Olympics. BBC could tap you, of course.”

“That’s the dream!” Ed chuckled.

“Of course.”

“I am not going to give up on it,” Ed said. “She’s always on the road.”

Ed wasn’t about to admit that, as of last night, Natalie was out of the picture. If they had been together, he would have talked to her about it. Today, Ed had no such obligation. Ed would take the contract.

“I’m in.”

Jason grinned. “I will get back to them, then. Well done, Ed. Should be an adventure, yes?”

“Sure. Thanks, mate. That’s… it’s great.”

Perhaps, the day wasn’t so shit. Ed lunched with his dad. He didn’t talk about Natalie at all other than to say she was back from Stockholm and doing well. He could confirm that much. Ed knew how to lie about relationship trouble. He’d done it for years before his divorce. Likewise, Ed wasn’t about to let their fight ruin his day. He’d done a big thing. Then, as Ed walked back to his car, he got a sudden urge to call Natalie. He wanted to celebrate with her. He wanted to take her out to dinner. The victory felt strangely hollow.

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