Billionaire Flawed 2(148)

Danny has also been called up this week to play his first game for England. He's certainly the hottest footballer in England at the moment. There are also rumors that Barcelona has made a bid of eighty million pounds for him. Hold on, yes, here he is.

Danny Constance towered over the reporter. At six feet three he had the ideal built to play in attack, and at just twenty-two was at the beginning of a glittering football career. He'd just come out of the shower after Rushmore United had won in front of fifty thousand home fans. It was a cold day in December and steam came from Danny's wet hair.

Danny, thanks for talking to us. How do you feel the game went today?

Great, I scored three and United have moved back to the top of the league. It's been a good day.

Another reporter came and put his microphone close to Danny's mouth. Danny flashed the reporter an aggressive look, and he withdrew slightly.

What's your reaction to your England call up?

I'm honored. It's great to represent my country. Hopefully, we can win, Danny said as he reeled off another stock answer. Rushmore used a London PR company to train its players in the art of evading press questions.

Can you give any insight into the rumor Barcelona want to buy you?

None, it's just that. A rumor.

And lastly Danny, I have to ask you this, do you have any comment on the alleged incident at the West End nightclub last week?

Danny scowled into the camera. No comment. Please keep your questions on football, not my private life.

But.....the young woman alleges you were very drunk, and you danced with her and touched her.......

Before the reporter could finish Danny has disappeared back into the sanctuary of the dressing room.

He sat down and put his boots into a holdall. The place was almost empty, only the goalkeeper, Rod Stevens, Danny's best friend was still getting dressed.

What a fuckhead, Danny said.

Who?

Jones, that reporter. He asked me about last Saturday evening.

Rod, who was even taller than Danny, turned around and looked at him. I hope she drops the charges, because if she doesn't you'll have to go to court.

But I didn't do what she's saying. Danny took a deep breath.

I know that, but the cops are always after nailing a famous person. Come on, let's go and have a beer, Rod said.

When they walked out of the players entrance, a large crowd cheered, and a few small boys thrust autograph books at Danny hopefully. That's what Danny liked about being a footballer, the kids. He knew he was a role model, and he loved being one. You go on ahead, I'll catch you up, I'm gonna sign for these kids, Danny said. Rod nodded and headed for the underground car park where his Porsche was waiting.

Okay lads, I'll stay here until the last one of you has got my signature so no need to push. After thirty minutes, the crowd had dwindled, and Danny saw a young boy in a wheelchair. Alright mate. What happened to you then? he asked the stricken child.

I was in a car crash. I can't walk anymore.

Danny looked at the boy's father, who smiled. That's no good is it. Tell you what; you can have these, and when you walk again, you can play football in them. The boy's eyes almost popped out of his head as Danny reached into his bag and pulled out the boots he'd just scored three goals in. Here, I'll sign them for you as well.

Are you sure Danny? the child's father said. Those are your lucky boots.

Well, he needs them more than I do, Danny said. The boy took the boots and cuddled them. His father shook Danny's hand. You're a good guy Danny thanks.

When Danny drove his Ferrari up the parking lot ramp, the kid in the wheelchair gave him the thumbs up. Danny put his foot down and left some rubber on the road as he sped to the Wild Board pub.

Danny, let me buy you a drink. Great game, you're a star,' Dave the barman said. The Wild Board was the only pub Danny and his teammates were allowed to drink in. It belonged to Rushmore's manager Miguel Sanchez. He let his players have a few beers there after home games because he knew Dave kept them from drinking too much. Miguel knew Danny and Rod always went on to a nightclub after, but they were young, and he realized they needed to let some steam off now and again.

The only thing that concerned Miguel was the possible charge which hung over Danny's head. Miguel had also played at the top level, and he knew the traps young women laid for highly paid young footballers. If they couldn't marry them, they'd create some trumped up charge and try to get financial compensation. The police had told Miguel that it could be a case of sexual assault, but Miguel knew that Danny wasn't that type of guy, and nobody in the nightclub was going to testify against him. The young woman was adamant that he'd touched her, but Miguel had already asked the club private detective to look into her. What he'd found hadn't surprised Miguel. She was from a broken family; her father was in prison, and her mother had a criminal record as long as her arm.