Kulti(185)
I made ten feet before a feminine voice called out, “Sal!” and Sheena came barreling out of the assistant coach’s office she’d been in a second before.
“Hey, Sheena,” I greeted her.
“Hey, hi. Sorry to come running out, but I wanted to talk to you before you left. You are leaving, right?” I nodded, unsure whether she was talking about leaving the team or leaving the office. “I won’t take your time then, but these pictures popped up last night of you and Mr. Kulti after the game. They aren’t good—“
“I’m sorry, Sheena. I don’t mean to cut you off but,” I gave her a tight grin, “it doesn’t matter. The pictures don’t matter.”
“They look bad, Sal. I know the league, and they’re going to be giving Cordero a call to complain pretty soon if they haven’t already,” she explained. “They’re more than likely going to want a statement from you apologizing—“
Apologizing? I shook my head. “No. I’m not doing it and they can’t make me.”
“But—“
“No.” Dear God, I sounded like Rey. “I’m not going to.” She’d find out soon enough why. In the meantime… “I have a question for you real quick. Whatever happened to that video of the press conference you were going to release? You never said anything to me about it again.”
From her facial expression, it looked like she wanted to keep going on about the pictures of Rey and I, but decided to answer my question instead. “We didn’t release it. Mr. Kulti had final approval and he demanded we shelve it. He said we would be humiliating you and he didn’t want to do that. I thought you knew? He bought the footage from the news stations so no one could do anything with them.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Snippet of the Transcript of the Press Conference
[Back in April]
……
KCNB REPORTER: Miss Casillas, how do you feel about having a player like Reiner Kulti coaching your team this season?
CASILLAS: I think it’s great. He’s the best soccer player in the world. His ball handling is fantastic, his on-the-spot playmaking is unbelievable, the power behind his striking is incomparable and he’s a great penetrator. We have a lot of girls on the team that could… did I just use the word penetrator?
KSXN REPORTER: You did.
CASILLAS: [silence] Is that even allowed on television? That word? Can I say that?
KCNB REPORTER: I don’t believe we can use it.
CASILLAS: I’m so sorry. Really. I don’t think I’ve ever used that word in my life. I guess I’ve taken too many balls to my face… fuck my life, did I just… Oh God. I used the ‘F’ word and I said I’ve taken a lot of balls to my face in one sentence. I don’t…
GARDNER: [cracking up] Sal…
CASILLAS: I’m just going to shut up now.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“We’ll have breakfast in the morning?” Dad asked. We’d just had a late dinner out, following an afternoon spent at my apartment.
I nodded. “Yes. I promise.”
Dad eyed me critically. “You’ll call me if you hear anything from your agent?”
It was ten o’clock at night. I highly doubted she was going to call me before the next morning, but I kept my mouth closed. My dad seemed more nervous than I was about everything now that the season was over, and I didn’t want to fuel the fire. One of us with indigestion was bad enough. “Promise.”
“Okay.” He smiled over at me. “I’ll see you in the morning then.” One more hug and he whistled over to where Rey stood next to their car, talking to my mom while Ceci sat inside, the glow from her cell illuminating her face. “Amor, estas lista?”
Mom had to have rolled her eyes considering she was the one who’d been standing by the car waiting for him for the last five minutes. “Ya vamonos. Salomé, dame un abrazo.”
Snorting under my breath, I walked back and gave her the hug she just demanded, knocking on the window to wave at Ceci. I could see Mom and Dad arguing inside and a second later, the driver side window rolled down possibly an inch. I’m pretty sure the words, “Bye, Kulti,” were mumbled out a second before the window was rolled back up and my dad pulled the car away and out of the lot.
“I’m pretty sure my dad told you bye,” I laughed.
The German had a small smile on his face. “I believe so.”
Dad hadn’t said a word to him during dinner, using me as a workaround to ask him questions. He was a freaking lunatic. “At this rate it’ll be six months before he shakes your hand and a year before he asks you how you’re doing.”