~8~ spills!

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What’s the coach doing with Therese Weber? So that’s the type of woman he goes for. She’s nice-looking. No great beauty. Her eyes are beautiful — large, doe-like and chestnut brown. A heart shape face. Those are her best features. I can tell she’s no bimbo. 

I’ll be d@mned. Navarro was just teaching me a lesson with that kiss; he wasn’t really interested in me. He’s unavailable — better turn my eyes elsewhere. Whatever. I’ll survive.

Navarro’s looking at me thoughtfully. Why so serious, you cheat? I wish I was The Joker then I could rip his balls out — and toss a playing card at him. Of course, I’d have my very own Harley Quinn (except she’d be a man).

Therese graces us with a fake smile. “So, girls, do you have any career ambitions? Or do you just want to be footballers?”

Gina grits her teeth into a grimace. “I want to be a professional mistress.”

Typical Gina. Navarro takes a sip of his coffee to hide a smile. That gorgeous smile—fvck it! He’s a cheating scumbag — I have to remember that… Or else, I’ll go crazy. I wouldn’t be surprised if Navarro’s a serial manslvt. 

“Excuse me?” Therese’s face is a picture of disgust.

“A professional mistress — very profitable.” 

Gina likes to shock — it’s her trademark. Although, she’s not lying about wanting to be a professional mistress. She’s a s£xpot. Gina wishes that she was alive during the Hollywood Golden Age — she’d probably thrive in the 1950s. 

Therese wrinkles her button nose. She dabs at her mouth with a crisp napkin — anything to avoid looking at us. The two blots in her line of vision. Everything about her irks me. She doesn’t have a hair out of place on her head. Her shift dress is effortlessly chic. Therese’s make-up is au naturel. Who is she trying to fool? She probably spends ages each day trying to achieve that look…

What does he see in her? She seems like a cold, calculating b!tch. But who am I to judge her? They suit each other. Two unpleasant people. You probably think I’m green with envy, don’t you? Well, yes. You would be too. 

I want to hit something. Need to calm down, before I do something rash—

“If you don’t like football, why are you engaged to a girls football coach?” I shoot the question at her.

See what I mean? I struggle to manage my temper. If I was trapped in a zoo, I’d end up smashing the glass and devouring the little kiddies. 

Therese splutters. “I…” 

All right, so my question caught the b!tch unawares. The coach’s eyebrows briefly raise as he looks from me to her. His eyes are full of tempestuous emotion.

He leans back in his chair and drums his fingers on the table top. “Yes. Why are you, Therese?”

She scowls. “I don’t want to go into this here—”

His fiancee speaks to him as though he’s a schoolboy. I have a feeling they get into a lot of explosive arguments. That’s no surprise — he isn’t exactly the most likeable person. They’re probably one of those crazy couples, who break up then make up in the space of five minutes. 

Gina’s eyes gleam — she’s sniffing for a fight between them. “What does she do?” Again she purposely directs the question at Navarro. The tension in the air is palpable. 

“She’s an architect,” he says at last.

Therese gets out a compact and furiously dabs powder on her face. She’s close to crying. Crocodile tears, no doubt. 

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