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He is a good person and he doesn’t deserve this bullshit. I feel so useless. I want to make it all better for David. More than that, I’m surprised I’ve started to care so much about him.
Much more than I can afford to for any man.
Chapter 92
Although we’ve texted and spoke on the phone, I haven’t seen David for the last few days and I’ve missed being around him. Late at night when I’m alone by myself, I tell myself not to fall for him, and that I’m just a good friend and caring for a lonely man in a foreign country.
Instead of seeing him, I’ve just been polishing the final draft of the feature article on David. It might be my first masterpiece. I give the rough draft one more read.
It’s funny. In the beginning, I didn’t want to work with David at all and had pretty much decided that he was the definition of evil. I was under the influence of Ana and Max. But here I am, writing an article that shows him as he really is: a wonderful human being.
Max, however, is still awol. He’s a guy who’s hands on with any business he’s running. He constantly proclaims that he’s going to be the savior that leads Coyote magazine back to its glory days and yet, he’s been missing in action for such a long time. It’s uncharacteristic of him to be away from work for so long, unless he’s placing his bets on bigger stakes. Not that I care.
An hour before the end of the day, I get a text from David, calling me over to Santa Monica where he’s undergoing the last bunch of tests to determine the exact nature of his injuries. From all of our conversations I figure David’s not expecting any good news and I want to be there for him.
So I pack up early for the day and head down the familiar road to Santa Monica. A bunch of paparazzi are parked outside, including Phil from the magazine. I decide to ignore him and go straight to David’s hospital room. As I enter the room, Willie is lying on David’s bed, his eyes glued to the TV screen.
“There she is.” He smiles.
“Don’t tell me something happened to you too?”
“Oh hell no!” He laughs. “I’m just waiting for our man to get done with his tests.”
“Thank God,” I sit down as relief washes over me. “Whatcha watchin’?”
“Miami’s playing. Javier scored three goals and they're ten minutes away from reaching the final,” he says in a serious tone, not trying to hide his contempt for Javier ‘El Matador’ Romero.
“So if you guys win your playoff too, then you face them in the final?” I ask and Willie nods.
“Jesus! It's gonna break David’s heart if he doesn’t get to play in the final against his bitter rival,” Willie says.
“Then let’s shut off that damn television and keep this news to ourselves,” I say with resolve.
“He’s gonna find out sooner or later, girl.”
“Then let it be later. He already has enough stress in his life. This can wait.”
Willie laughs.
“Why are you laughing?” I smile. It’s difficult not to smile when Willie breaks into that big, warm laugh of his.
“You know, when David first told me that he thought you were cute, I mocked him. But now I see that maybe a woman like you is exactly what he needs in his life.” Willie has a thoughtfully amused look on his face.
“Wait, he said what?”
“Damn, I think I’ve said too much.” Willie grins and makes the gesture of zipping up his lips but sits with the self-satisfied smile of someone who just stirred up exactly the trouble he wanted to.
I’m about to probe him further when David hobbles back into the room on crutches, the same aged doctor in tow. Willie gets up and starts talking to the doctor.
“So doc—give it to me straight. How bad is it?”
“Well,” the doctor smiles. “It isn’t as bad as it seemed at first. It looked like a grade III sprain but now I can confirm that at best, It's only a grade I. Those usually heal within a few weeks at most.”
“So does this mean that he can play in a couple of weeks?” I ask eagerly.
“Now hold up there, young lady,” the doctor smiles. “I didn’t say that. There is a very slight chance that he might but even then, I don’t expect him to be fit enough to last the whole game.”
“Yes!” I exclaim. “I’ll take a very slight chance over none at all!”
