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“Sure.” My body tensed, completely at a loss as to what she might want to say.
“I don’t like the hush puppies at TJ’s. They aren’t bready enough for me.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “Well don’t tell anyone else that. They’re our sponsor and Brooker loves them.”
“Oh shit, are there soccer gossip rags? Will the headline be something like, ‘Dastard’s captain’s baby mama hates the team’s sponsor’?”
“There aren’t any gossip magazines that I know of. Though there might be blogs. You’ll have to ask Brooker, he’s the most likely to be in one.”
“Mmm. Good point. Let’s get those cookies in the fridge so they’ll cool quicker and we can go.”
The Fun Shower
Leah
Ricci, whose first name was apparently Paulo, and Emily went all out on this baby shower. It turns out Ricci’s mom is some relatively famous Italian chef and she sent him a full menu to make. My cookies probably had the least amount of calories of anything on the table. I’m pretty sure even the Caesar salad was worse for the athletes given how Kean wrinkled his nose at it.
But I was grateful for the plethora of food, because it meant I wasn’t the focus of everyone’s immediate attention and could join Kodi and Rosa at the kitchen island.
“Rosa, do you mind—”
“Sure, sweetie. What is it?” she said before I could finish my sentence. Beside her, Kodi snorted. I slid onto the stool next to Rosa and leaned in to her.
“Is it okay if I ask you what being married to Jimenez is like?” I asked in a whisper and both women’s eyes went wide.
“Shit, is this turning into an engagement party? Lemme see the ring!” She dropped her cannoli, apparently a dessert-first person, and grabbed my hand, face dropping when she didn’t see a ring.
“No,” I said, rolling my eyes as I pulled my hand back. “We’re … considering dating? Dating but not a couple yet. A half step toward a relationship? Whatever. We’re trying something and I wanted to know what it’s like being with a professional soccer player. Like how weird is it, do you have to talk to the press, what’s the schedule like, that shit.”
“Oh, that’s cool, I guess,” Rosa mumbled and Kodi elbowed her and hissed, “Rosa.”
“What? I thought they got engaged. A micro-step or whatever isn’t nearly as exciting. But I am happy for you.” She put a hand on my shoulder for a quick squeeze. “But I think you’re thinking about it too much. It’s not like they’re celebrity-celebrities. Especially not in the States.”
“But they do a lot of press talks, don’t they?”
“Not all the players,” Kodi cut in. “It’s kind of dependent on their position and role in the team. As starting goalie, Olli should be doing way more interviews than he does, but it’s his least favorite thing to do and no one has the pull to get him to do it.”
“I bet you could,” Rosa scoffed, but Kodi ignored her.
“Sharma makes them rotate when feasible, but the guys who do the most interviews are Brooker, because he’s a lead scorer and has the personality for it, Christenson as captain, and Taylor, again because he’s got the personality for it. Alvarez and Ricci are occasionally pulled for an interview too. But for the most part, interviewers are focused on the game. The only gossip they're interested in is rivalries between players. Partners wouldn’t be asked for interviews unless there was a big transfer or sudden retirement. And even then, you won’t have to talk to the press unless you want to.”
“Um sorry,” Emily said, stepping around the island to set an empty tray into the sink. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but are you talking about what it’s like to be a player’s girlfriend?”
“Mhmm,” Rosa said, mouth full of cannoli. “Leah’s worried about it.”
“Oh me too,” Emily said in a whisper. “My family back home has told me all sorts of wild stories about paparazzi. I didn’t pay them any mind while we were long distance, but now …” She trailed off and I hummed in understanding. She was from France and while I didn’t know much about soccer, I knew it was much bigger overseas than here. I mean, there was a whole movie where everybody loved that one English player that married a Spice Girl.
“Nah, the States only care when it’s a national game. And I’d bet anything Ricci would choose to play for Italy if given the chance.”
I looked to Kodi for confirmation and she nodded in agreement.
“Is Christenson good enough to get … drafted to the US team?” I asked and Kodi and Rosa bobbed their heads vehemently.
“Since the Cup was this summer, I wouldn’t be surprised if the US team is reviewing games to search for new players. Him, Brooker, and Carter would look great on the national team. Oh my god.”
“Do you understand what she’s saying?” I asked Emily and she shook her head.
“Kodi’s a soccer head,” Rosa explained. “But it doesn’t matter, you don’t have to worry about the press.”
