Kulti(105)
Sheena let out a tight laugh. “Mr. Kulti, it doesn’t look good—“
“You can’t tell me who I can or can’t be friends with,” he cut her off. “It doesn’t really matter what something looks like if it isn’t what it truly is, no?”
Wait a second, that sounded sort of familiar…
Sheena turned her attention to me, her face slightly flushed. “Sal, with your history—“
This bitch started to go there. I needed to cut it short. “I haven’t done anything wrong in this case. If I had I wouldn’t have a problem taking responsibility for my actions. He’s my friend and there isn’t anything inappropriate about our friendship. I have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
The sting of guilt that I hadn’t told anyone about him was there, but I would swear I had only kept it to myself because I didn’t want this type of attention. There were some things people couldn’t understand, and obviously this was one of them.
Kulti uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his face even further away from the back of the chair. “This wouldn’t be a problem if it wasn’t for the PR issues going on with me at this moment. There’s nothing here that is worth us having a conversation. She’s my best friend—“
I shot him a look out of the corner of my eye, reminding him of the shit that had come out of his mouth outside my apartment. It said is that how best friends treat each other? Really?
Apparently he saw my facial expression and didn’t care that I wasn’t feeling particularly friendly at that point. “Nothing any of you say is going to change that. That’s the end of the story. If there’s something else you want, call my manager.”
“Sal—“
I was torn between panicking at why they were making a big deal out of this and debating whether or not it was worth standing up for myself. “They’re just pictures of us getting into his car,” I argued halfheartedly, unsure what route I needed to take.
I was a good player, one of the most consistent on the team, but the truth was everyone was replaceable. I couldn’t afford to act like a diva, but at the same time the little voice inside of my head wanted me to tell these people—and by people I really meant Cordero—to fuck off.
“Miss Casillas, I think you’ve made it clear your decision-making skills are nothing to—“ Cordero began ranting.
Kulti lurched forward in his seat, and I felt my eyes go wide at his defensive posture. “I’m going to tell you right now that you don’t want to finish that sentence.”
Gardner coughed. “There’s no reason for anyone to get bent out of shape. I believe you, Sal, if you say that you’re friends, you’re friends. You’ve never given me a reason to not trust you. I think we can all agree that we want this season to go smoothly or at least smoother than it has been going.”
“This is my fault. I will take responsibility for the negative attention, but I won’t let you put the blame on her for befriending me,” Kulti said. “Sal has done nothing wrong.”
“I don’t think you all understand. This doesn’t look good,” Sheena said quickly, before anyone cut her off. “Do you think you could… I don’t know, Mr. Kulti, I’m just throwing out ideas for you to talk to your publicist about, but… do something publicly to pull rumors away from… this… friendship?”
“Go on a date?”
Kulti didn’t even hesitate. “No.”
“But—“
“No,” he repeated.
Sheena’s desperate eyes met mine. “Sal, what about you? Could you go on a date? Post some pictures—“
“No.”
That was definitely not me that answered her. It was Kulti who answered almost angrily. I let him.
“Sal—“
“No.” That was Kulti again. “Absolutely not.”
“But—“
“Stop asking,” the German snapped. “I’m not doing it and neither is she.”
“I’ve done just about everything that’s ever been asked of me. I don’t want to do this,” I explained gingerly, trying to ease over the hostility radiating off the man next to me.
Cordero guffawed.
Ten minutes later, I found Kulti waiting outside of Gardner’s office. Mr. Cordero had left first, with the German following immediately afterward. Sheena stayed in the office to discuss something. What else could it be besides me or the German?
“There’s nothing for you to worry about,” Kulti’s deep, heavy voice assured me.
I scratched my forehead, trying to urge away the frustration I felt at the conversation that had just finished up. A nasty nagging feeling had taken up residence in my belly. This wasn’t sitting well with me, and honestly I was really worried they were going to try and find something to use against me. I wasn’t sure why I felt so pessimistic, but I did.