Unbelievable. Zelda was really working overtime to get him back. As if a pretty blonde could win him over. Josh had other things in mind for the blonde that didn’t involve any PA shit.

Zelda could kiss his ass for all he cared. And that was just the thing, he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything and he wasn’t going to spend his time worrying over football.

He just wanted more beer.

“Cindy, baby, get me another drink.” He pushed Cindy off his lap and smacked her ass, loving the feel of her smooth bronze skin on his hands. He pulled Allegra into his lap and buried his face into her voluptuous breasts as the music changed to something more upbeat. They’d been at Ty’s beach party now for a few hours and Josh was enjoying every minute of it. He was living like when he was back in college, when he didn’t care about anything because he was young and free and the world belonged to him.

He loved the beach, loved everything about it. Loved the sand, the sea, and that salty smell that came with it.

What kept him going was beautiful women and booze. That combination kept him from thinking; it always had and never failed. As soon as the effects started wearing off he’d just top up on both. Both were always at his fingertips and he would happily get by like this until he died.

Death.

It didn’t seem so bad if you weren’t on the other side of it. If you weren’t suffering from the loss that came with it then it would be okay. You’d just be no more. Nothing left of you, just memories held by those who loved you.

He still had a father, who for some reason cared for him. He’d remember Josh when he died. No one else would though. Not even this beautiful woman in his lap who’d been with him for years. He knew she was only there because of who he was, and because he was rich. If something happened to him she would just move on to the next rich athlete. Cindy would too.

It was fine, they meant nothing to him. He just loved their bodies and they knew what he liked. They were no better than a favorite drink that could never disappoint because it was always the same flavor.

That was all they were to him. If he had the courage he would have taken his life the same day he found out his mother and sister had been killed. There were several reasons to want to end it all.

Guilt and shame were in the lead. If they hadn’t been trying to get to his game then they’d still be alive. If he wasn’t the arrogant bastard that he was he wouldn’t have insisted that they travel after such a terrible storm. He would have understood that safety came first when you cared about the ones you loved. Nothing could fully describe the guilt and shame he felt, and it only intensified when he thought of his father. For that reason, he stayed away from his father. He didn’t bother. Why should he? Josh was the reason that the best two people on this Earth no longer lived. He’d been the cause for taking away the love of his father’s life and their precious daughter.

So, the next reason for wanting to exit this world was simply that he couldn’t stand it anymore, he couldn’t stand the guilt and shame that only got worse with each passing day.

Josh only hadn’t done it because for some reason, some crazy reason, he thought it would disappoint his mother. It was ironic and laughable because the way he lived now would be a sure disappointment to her, but if he took his life that would be the end. No more chances. No more anything.

He dug his toes into the softness of the sand, still damp from the retreating tide. Gazing out to the horizon in the distance he found himself momentarily lost in the vibrant hues the sun cast against the sky and the striking blue waters. It reminded him of Italy and spending summers there as a child with his grandparents. He supposed they’d remember him too.

Josh was thinking too much again, which meant he was beginning to sober up.

“Josh, not in front of people,” Allegra giggled as he kissed the swells of her breasts and tried to pull the straps of her bikini top down.

“Let’s go make use of one of Ty’s rooms.” Ty was one of the team’s wide receivers.

Josh looked across to his teammates who were playing a mean game of volleyball. A round of laughter erupted as Taj tripped Ty up.

“Don’t you want to wait for Cindy?” Allegra’s large brown eyes sparkled in the bright sun.

“No, let’s go. She can join us later.” He ran his hands up her thighs and hooked his finger in the edge of her bikini thong.

“That’s fine by me.” She hopped off his leg and took his hand to pull him up.

Corey approached them as he stood. “Hey man, you aren’t going yet are you?” he asked.

Josh smiled and tried to balance himself. “Not yet, bro.”

“You joining us next week for the team meeting?” Corey asked, looking hopeful.

The guys met up every week for one thing or another. Aside from being good teammates, they were all friends. Josh used to join them before his life went to hell. Now he’d go to parties where the setting was like this, with a lot of people. That way he could blend in and come and go. He could avoid questions and their looks of concern and worry.

He’d never been able to avoid Corey, however, in any setting. Josh had known Corey for a long time; they went to high school together, played football there and in college. He guessed he could say that they played for the same team now, too, even though technically Josh didn’t really play anymore. He hadn’t since that terrible day when his mother and sister were taken from him.

“Nah man. I’m just here.”

“Why don’t you come for a little while?”

Josh couldn’t think of anything worse than a team meeting. He couldn’t go. He couldn’t imagine sitting with the other Gladiators and their coach in their meeting room at the stadium talking about last season, which he didn’t take part in, and the upcoming season. Josh just couldn’t bear the thought of it. He only needed to touch a football and he’d remember all that his parents went through to make it possible for him to get to play pro ball for a leading national team. And by the same token, the same memory triggered how he put football above the lives of his family. It was a double-edged blade for him, and he didn’t know what to do about that.

Allegra slipped her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. Corey cut her a sharp glance. He didn’t like her. Never had, and it didn’t look like he ever would.

“How about I think about it,” Josh slurred.

“You said that last time.”

Josh couldn’t remember that. His memory was very hazy these days. He liked it that way.

“This time I will promise you, hand on heart, that I’ll think about it,” he chuckled, running his hand along Allegra’s waist.

“Cool. We miss you, man.”

His team needed him. He could tell. He’d helped them win the year before last and he understood that his absence was missed.

He played for the Dolphins for four years before he got signed by the Gladiators. It was then that he actually felt like he was part of a team. They were friends too, real friends. He’d known a majority of them for just over five years and he had to admit that he missed them too. He missed playing with them, missed the crazy stunts they’d pull on the field. Josh glanced over at Gage Montgomery, the Gladiators’ quarterback, as he served the volleyball straight in Ty’s face and started to laugh. Josh would have laughed, too, if he was in a better mood.

Gage turned and saw Josh watching the spectacle.

“Hey old man, come play with us,” Gage beckoned.

He and Josh had this running joke about their ages. Josh was only a month older than Gage but they’d had this stupid joke going from the day they met. Josh got on really well with Gage. They looked similar and had the same personalities too.

“Next time, dude.” Josh waved back.

Gage would have answered but Ty sent the ball right back at Gage, hitting him in his neck.

“I have to go.” Josh focused his attention back to Corey. “I don’t want to keep my woman waiting.”

Truthfully, he didn’t want to think about football, his friends, or anything to do with playing. Josh knew that an impending decision lay on the horizon for him. The team management had left him to grieve for most of the year. They’d left him to do whatever the hell he wanted and treat them how he felt, but he knew that they’d start exerting some form of control the closer it got to the upcoming season with all the events and trainings planned.

It was understandable; they had a business to run and a team to prep.

The problem was Josh wasn’t sure he could be part of any of it anymore. His body wanted it, and he longed to play. His mind was another story.

Allegra giggled in that cute girlie way that he liked and pulled him away from Corey. She’d be able to give him just what he needed and wipe his mind clean of all worries, if only for a little while. He followed her happily into the house.

* * *

It took Amy the whole day just to clean the living room. She drove to the supermarket and got some cleaning sprays and cloths. She also got some super-thick rubber gloves to lessen the chance of contamination. She’d never been in a house so dirty. It was like one of those homes from hell shows that showed how dirty people could be.

Just from the living room alone she’d bagged up eight extra-large disposal bags. It was atrocious.

Kathy, her good friend from New York, and Tristan had sent her the standard “good luck on your first day” messages, to which she hadn’t replied. What could she say? This was hell.

Her, Amy Rose, the aspiring designer who wanted to work for Dior, was scrubbing floors and picking up underwear amongst garbage. It was a cruel joke and she didn’t know what stroke of bad luck had crossed her path to allow this to happen.

Even her clothes were ruined. Earlier she’d reached for a beer bottle on the shelf believing it was empty. It slipped out of her grasp and landed on her, spilling moldy beer with fermented bits all over her beautiful clothes. It stank to high heaven and she did too. She’d had to have a mini wash in the kitchen, which was surprisingly not as bad as the living room. Probably because it seemed like Mr. Mancini preferred fast food and beer to home cooked meals that would require the use of pots, pans, and dinnerware.

By the time she was done the living room looked livable and she could see her way into the sitting room. It hosted another mess, which she had managed to clear away but hadn’t cleaned.

At the end of her work day the bad smell had gone and at least the place looked like a person lived there and not like he was keeping animals. She didn’t know how he managed to do anything or eat in such a mess.

He hadn’t returned when she was leaving, which was fine, she didn’t particularly want to see him again for the day. At least she’d survived day one.

Barely.

Now on to her little room in downtown. She couldn’t even class it as an apartment. It wasn’t big enough. There was a single bed that looked like something you’d see in a jail cell, a unit with a stove top, and a sink. Next to that was a mini-fridge, the toilet, and shower.

There was just enough space beside the bed to keep her sewing machine and her mannequin that helped her to make her dress for the designer showcase.

She hid the dress underneath the bed in multiple plastic bags. With the rhinestones that covered it, and the fine red silk and taffeta mix, that dress was easily valued at between ten and fifteen thousand dollars. It would be a small fortune for anyone who stole it. She’d spent five thousand on putting it together, which she was luckily able to do before she’d had news of her mother’s condition.

Her room was part of a multi-complex of other rooms and in a worse part of town. The locks didn’t work properly and she couldn’t take the chance of getting burgled. If that happened, that would be it for her. Right now she was living on an incredibly tight budget to enable her to fulfill her mission to help her mother and secure her spot as a Dior designer.

This was the third time that she’d applied to work for Dior. Their new designer recruitment process ran over the course of a year, starting with the standard application and portfolio, then on to an interview and presentation to pitch a design for any season of her choice. The designer showcase was the final stage. It was a massive event with a fashion show that allowed you the chance to display your main design. Passing that meant being accepted as one of their entry-level designers. It was onwards and upwards from there.

Every year Dior accepted two to five new designers. It went without saying that they were extremely selective. Hundreds would apply, and in most years only a handful were accepted. Last year it was two people. The year before three.

In the first two attempts Amy got through to the second stage but went no further. It was quite disappointing and heart rending, especially since each time she was up against fresh graduates with new ideas. Now she was thirty-three, five years older than when she applied the second time around, but with more experience and names under her belt. It was her PA role that helped to boost her application on her latest attempt. She’d been able to talk a lot more about working with magazines and future prospects in the fashion world than on her first two attempts. She couldn’t have been more ecstatic to be invited to take part in the designer showcase in Beverly Hills in four months.

This was her dress, and she had to say it was truly beautiful. She’d gone for an elegant slim line.

Amy planned to go in with fire, guns blazing, and a no-failure attitude. She hadn’t allowed herself to think past the what if of failure. It simply wasn’t an option even with her mother being sick.

All she had to do was get through this job and hope that she wouldn’t lose her sanity. Tomorrow she would speak to Mr. Mancini when he was sober. Speaking to drunk people was a complete waste of time and energy because they wouldn’t remember half of what you said when next you saw them. She just hoped that tomorrow would be better.

Grabbing a microwave dinner of vegetable lasagna, she shoved it in the small microwave oven. Just like yesterday it sparked up a few times, stalled, sparked again, and then continued until it pinged minutes later when it was ready.

A knock sounded at her door and she wondered who it could be. She wasn’t comfortable in this place at all and, in all honesty, preferred to let whoever was knocking stay outside. She was also tired from the day she’d had.

She tiptoed towards the door, peered through the little peephole, and frowned when she saw it was the landlord. He was a big, butch, Eastern European guy with a creepy attitude and an accent that made you feel like you were in a bond film, but not in a good way. He also had a twin brother who lived on the next floor up. She paid her rent for the month already and a deposit, so she really wasn’t sure why he was here. But, since it was him she decided she’d better open the door.

“Hi Mr. Krutz. Is there something I can help you with?”

He gave her that once over look most guys did, but on him with his thick masculinity and shaved head it made him look even more creepy.

“Call me Dom. I’m just checking to see how you are, blondie.” He smiled and ran his hand across his stubbly chin. That was the second time today that her hair had been referenced. Maybe she should dye it. If it meant she was safer, she could die it orange or something.

“I’m fine. Thanks so much for checking. I am tired, though, so I’m going to turn in for the night.” She was hoping that would give him the hint that she wasn’t in the mood for company, but it didn’t.

“Turn in? But it’s just seven. Come out for a drink with me.” He turned his smile up a notch.

“Oh no, I’m really tired and I have to be up early. Thanks though.”

She could tell he was the kind of man who didn’t like to be told no. Amy was also doing her best not to piss him off because the place came really cheap at a hundred bucks a week. It was perfect for her budget, and since she wouldn’t be using her pay to replenish what she spent then that worked out even better too.

“You won’t come out for one drink?”

“Hey, if I can’t do my job then I can’t pay you. It’s the kind of job where you need to be sharp and on the ball.” She was hoping that his love for money would overpower whatever he wanted from her, and it seemed to have worked. He changed his stance and shifted his weight from one side to the other.

“Well I wouldn’t want that to be a problem.”

She offered a friendly smile. “Maybe with my busy schedule we could share a Kit Kat.” With men like him it was best to keep things sweet. Not let him know there was no way on God’s green Earth she’d consider him and his drink requests, or that if he were the last man alive she’d run as far away from him as she could.

He laughed. “Kit Kat, that’s original. Okay blondie, you let me know when you’d like to do that.”

How about never, she wanted to say but instead smiled and replied, “Absolutely.”

She felt relieved when he tipped his head and moved away. As he did, she caught a glimpse of his twin brother and some other guys across the corridor looking on at her quite keenly. She hadn’t seen them before. It was just that they looked like they were up to something. If she had gone for this drink with Dom would the others have been there too?

A chill ran down her spine, along with nervous tingles. Perhaps she should consider moving. It was one thing to get a cheap deal, but what was the point if she didn’t feel safe? She closed the door and went back inside, steadying her nerves and worries with deep breaths.

She’d eat, call her mom before it got too late, then go to bed. Tristan and his wife were looking after her at the moment. They were living at the family home with her two-year-old niece. She’d call as soon as she finished eating so it wouldn’t be too late. Then she’d catch some beauty sleep. She did indeed want to leave here early and maybe hang out on the beach by Mr. Mancini’s house so she could go over the details in the job spec that Zelda gave her. With the busyness of today she didn’t get the chance to look at it.

She just hoped that tomorrow would be a better day than today.