The Set Piece Read online

  “Okay! Let’s do this thing!” he said.

  A palpable energy pulsed through the room. Everyone smiled at Diego and then at each other. Amy remembered her college soccer coach’s favorite quote. “A really good player doesn’t even have to touch the ball to affect the game. She just needs to make everyone else believe that when the ball comes to them, they can put it in the back of the net.” Diego had done just that.

  A tall, thin man with glasses slapped Diego on the back and took him to the green screen that dominated the back third of the room.

  “That’s Ryan, the creative director. A good director always makes the talent feel comfortable, but Ryan takes it to a whole new level,” a soft voice said directly behind Amy. She didn’t need to turn around to know it was Knight. That creepy feeling she had for him had reached her even before his words. “I think he has a little something for our boy. Can you take care of it?”

  “I’ll try.” That’s what he was paying her for after all, but taking care of it didn’t sit well with Amy as she moved toward Diego. If Ryan did like Diego, a fake girlfriend wasn’t going fool him. Queers knew their own. Ryan kept his hand on Diego’s shoulder as he ran though the poses on the shot list. As the hand began to slide down Diego’s back, Amy saw Knight flinch, so she sidled in between them and Ryan was forced off to the side.

  “This whole set-up is amazing,” Amy said.

  Diego met her gaze as embarrassment flashed in his eyes. Amy realized that he liked Ryan’s attention, but understood he shouldn’t allow himself to. Her heart went out to him, and she touched his arm.

  “Diego, we’re ready for you. Could you take your place, please?” Ryan said curtly, breaking up the moment.

  Diego stood in front of the screen with his arm stretched out, palm up. Ryan positioned the new hi-tech Adidas ball, which registered the speed and trajectory of a strike, on the palm of his hand.

  “Pull up the star field,” Ryan said to a man hovering over a computer.

  A million twinkling stars popped into existence behind Diego on the screen. With a simple click of a mouse, Diego was a superman hovering in space offering the ball to the consumer. Diego’s jaw was set, but the glint in his eye seemed to say, “Buy the ball, train hard, and you, too, can play like me.”

  “Excellent,” Ryan said. Amy stood looking over his shoulder.

  “He’s a natural,” she said.

  Ryan studied her for a moment. “Yes, he’s perfect,” he said, finally. Amy caught the double meaning. He was telling her that he knew about Diego’s true nature.

  “I know.” She raised her eyebrows and smiled to give her statement an enigmatic twist. Then she walked away to make sure she had the last word. Knight’s crazy if he thinks this is going to work.

  Soon, though, the excitement of the shoot overtook her concerns. Camera’s clicked; Ryan shouted directions. Diego laughed and chatted his way through the morning. No wonder everyone wanted a piece of him. People just felt better when he was around.

  At one point, Francine reappeared, thrust several items of clothing into Amy’s arms and pointed to the small dressing room. Amy held up a tiny shirt.

  “Um. I’m not sure this is my size.”

  “It’s close enough,” Francine said. “They’re made to show off the body. Go try it on. You might like what you see. I know Diego will.”

  Amy did as she was told. She wriggled into the shorts and then squeezed the shirt down over her chest inch by inch. It was ridiculously tight, exposing every flaw. Amy had believed that she was more or less in shape from all her jogging and bike riding. The shirt cupped her breasts and stomach like a glove. Sadly, it also exposed how soft she had become in the two years since she’d left the soccer field and instituted Margarita Mondays at the bar. She considered her reflection in the mirror. I would rather go out there naked than in these clothes.

  There was a soft tap on the dressing room door. “They’re ready for you.” Casey’s voice drifted in, void of all emotion.

  “Sorry, but can you tell Francine that I need another shirt? I’m not coming out like this.”

  Casey yanked open the door without warning. Her gaze traveled up and down Amy’s body as if she were a sculptor looking at a lump of untapped marble. “You look fine.”

  Amy, in a knee jerk reaction, rapidly pushed the door shut in her face. “Casey, can you please tell Francine to get me a looser shirt.” In her embarrassment, she ordered Casey around like everyone else.

  A quick look in the mirror told her what she already knew. Her face and arms were a deep red. She hadn’t meant to be that curt with Casey, but she also hadn’t intended for anyone to see her like this.

  Casey had heard her loud and clear. A hand clutching a bright green Adidas training tee slipped around the dressing room door a few minutes later.

  “Thanks,” Amy mumbled.

  Casey said nothing.

  “Time is money, sweetie.” Lucy came knocking on the door moments later. The T-shirt was a much better look for her. The bright color made her complexion glow, and it was just loose enough to hide her flaws without creating a tent effect. Lucy took her by the elbow and guided her to the hair and make-up station a few feet away.

  “There you go,” she said, directing Amy into the chair. “Pull her hair back and stay natural, I think. Maybe even out her tone and define her eyes a little bit more,” she told the stylist.

  Amy usually got ready in the morning in under ten minutes and was surprised how much she enjoyed being pampered. Her hair was restyled as a messy ponytail that looked like she had pulled her hair into a scrunchie that morning without a thought. The make-up girl designed a natural look that Amy soon realized was anything but artless. She checked her reflection in the mirror. Success! She looked like she put the F in fun.

  When she finally made it to the green screen, Diego gave a low whistle. “You look great.”

  “Who knew,” she said casually, but secretly she glowed with her transformation. She looked around to see if Casey had noticed, but she was talking to another woman with her back to her.

  “Okay.” Lucy marched center stage to take control. “So you play soccer too, Amy?”

  “I do.”

  “Can you do that…what’s it called? That thing where you bounce the ball on your foot and your leg?”

  “You mean juggling?”

  “Yes, that.”

  “I can.”

  Lucy clapped her hands in delight. “So clear back everyone and let them juggle.” No one moved. The crew looked to Ryan, who looked to Knight, who nodded. Amy wouldn’t have guessed that Knight out of all these people was the top of the power pyramid, but a simple nod from him got everyone moving. Before she knew it, she and Diego were bobbing the ball back and forth to each other in front of the extended green screen. Diego, at first, had given her simple transfers with no spin right to her feet.

  “You’re going easy on me,” she said. She flipped the ball behind her back to heel kick it over to Diego.

  Diego’s eyes widened, and some of the studio guys whistled and clapped.

  “Game on!” Diego cried, and matched her trick with one of his own. The ball flew between them like lightning, and very soon she was outclassed. The camera clicked at a steady rate until Ryan called from the back of the room. “That’s a wrap, guys. We got what we need.”

  So had Amy. When she tapped the ball to the production assistant, she looked up to see the first crack in Casey’s persona. The chill was still in her eyes, but her expression was thoughtful. Amy met her gaze, trying to get beyond her defenses. She would have given all the money she now had in the bank to know what that look meant.

  Diego fell back on the couch. They were back home hanging out in the den after a full day. Tammy and Tom had retired for the evening so they had the house to themselves. The atmosphere seemed lighter with the Winters’ absence. Soft
music played in the background, and Dulce lay cuddled between them.

  “Thank you. I’ve never had so much fun on a PR day,” Diego said, idly stroking the dog’s silky ears.

  “I’ve never had a PR day,” Amy said. She was slumped beside him. “They’re exhausting.”

  “Well, trust me they’re usually a lot more tedious. Thank you for playing with me and the kids at the park. You were really good.”

  “It was my pleasure. I’d forgotten how much fun a kick-around is.”

  Amy ran the events of the afternoon through her mind. Diego had returned to his childhood soccer field, no more than a dirt-and-weed pitch at a local park sandwiched between run-down apartment buildings. Knight and Lucy Lewitt had carefully handpicked the local kids for the shoot months ago. It all looked so coincidental. Diego sauntered up and stopped an out of bounds ball, then asked, “Hey, guys, can I play?”

  The kids screamed and piled onto Diego for a group hug. The TV cameras ate up everything. When Knight was sure the cameras were pointed at Amy he gave her a little shove.

  “Go play with them.”

  “I don’t have any shoes.” She looked down to her slip-on flats.

  “Casey? Could you please get Amy some shoes?” He gave the inevitable command.

  Soft, expensive turf shoes appeared like magic, and just as if she were Cinderella, fit perfectly. Amy trotted onto the field as if she had worn them all her life.

  “Girls against boys!” she called. The girls ran to her side of the makeshift pitch, and the game was on.

  The ball was at her feet, she slid it between the legs of one of the older boys who had thought himself above playing against girls.

  “Oye, chamaco! Mira la pelota, no a la chica! They’re too good.” Diego nudged the boy out of his embarrassment, before he took off down the field.

  “That’s right!” The lanky girl goalie at the back of the field called out. Amy caught her eye and they shared a nod.

  Amy was sure that Diego had somehow engineered the girls’ victory. But it was good for everyone on the field and even better for the cameras on the sideline.

  “You know I thought it was kinda silly.” Amy settled back into the couch in the den. “Who would actually buy that you would just show up at a field with more rocks than grass and play with a bunch of kids on your day off? The whole thing was nothing more than a ridiculous stunt for TV.”

  Diego’s smile froze and a guarded look crept across his face. Amy could’ve kicked herself.

  “No, no,” she said. “I mean I thought it was silly as a promo stunt. But then I saw the kids actually got something out of it. That goalie on my team was more than good. I talked to her after. You know, she’s only in middle school. So I told her to try out for the high school team next year. And who knows, if she continues to improve, there’s college scholarships and club teams and even Olympic development programs. You know, a good goalie can pretty much write her own ticket and she...”

  She looked up to see the guarded look long gone. Diego’s smile was back and in full force. Amy clamped her mouth shut so hard her teeth snapped into each other. What was she thinking? Rambling on and on. Lecturing Diego Torres on soccer.

  Diego only laughed. “That’s why I agree to those,” and he air quoted, “ridiculous promo stunts.” He stretched his long legs out across the coffee table and got comfortable. “It’s not for the TV or for spiking my publicity. When I was a kid, much younger than those kids were, my brothers and I were messing around with a ball at that same park. There was this guy who was running laps around the field. He was training as it turned out, but he stopped and watched us for a while. I guess I was doing something that caught his attention, because he told me that I was really good. He played for the local college team, and he told me to keep practicing, because they could really use good players.”

  “And that made a difference?”

  “All the difference. This guy, who probably forgot about me as soon as he got home, planted a seed. College. No one in my family had ever gone to college. We lived in a tiny apartment above the self-storage facility my dad managed. Soccer was just a way for my mom to get me and my brothers out of her hair. But I started really practicing from that moment on.” He shrugged. “You never know what makes a difference to a kid.”

  “You were really good with them,” he continued. “And I’m not just talking about your moves, although you do have a wicked first touch. They liked you. We should get Paul on it. Create more opportunities for you to do some real good in all these bogus situations.”

  “I’d really like that.” A little laugh escaped her lips. Helping kids would certainly make her feel she’d earned her paycheck. “How about an after school homework and soccer club? There’s lots of ways to get to college, and I’ve always wanted to work with kids in some way.”

  “We’ll text Paul tomorrow.”

  “That’d be great.” She patted his arm. She was touched he would do this for her.

  She imagined the facility they might create. A colorful room full of posters and supplies. She could tutor in English and history and help out with writing in any subject. On breaks they could go out and kick a ball around on a grassy field right outside the door. It was a simple idea, but with Diego’s name and money behind it, who knew what could come out of it.

  They both noticed almost simultaneously her hand still resting on his arm. Her fingers curled idly around his forearm. She yanked her hand away. Shit. She didn’t want Diego to think she had designs on him. Nothing could be further from the truth.

  “Sorry,” she said, and her cheeks flushed.

  “Nothing to apologize for.” But Diego slid his feet off the coffee table and stood up. He went over to the large fireplace and casually examined the photographs grouped on the mantelpiece. Suddenly, the whole thing felt a lot like a real relationship. Amy had overstepped, and Diego was now pushing back to regain the space between them.

  “Well, I got a big day tomorrow.” Diego idly fingered a picture of him kissing an older Latina woman on the cheek. “It’s a fitness day. I’m hitting the gym early with my trainer and then down to the stadium. The guys and I will probably go out to eat afterwards. I take the rookies out once a week. You know their salaries are shit.” Diego slid the picture back and forth across the mantelpiece. “Just the guys usually. You could join us, I guess, if you wanted?”

  Amy studied him for a moment. Was this a command appearance? Was the boss setting up a meeting or was he just being nice? Diego continued to fidget.

  “Oh, thanks. But I’m good.” She took a shot in the dark.

  Diego smiled and moved toward the hallway. Amy relaxed; she’d made the right move.

  “You’ll be okay, all by yourself for the whole day?” he asked.

  “I will.” She smiled to let him know she was really fine with it.

  “Good. Hang out by the pool. Relax while you can. I have Friday off, and we’ve a command performance at my parents’ house. They all want to meet my fiancée, you know.” He said it lightly, as if meeting his entire family were no big deal.

  Amy’s heart started to pound. “Really?”

  “Don’t worry. My mother says she understands why I kept you a secret. It’ll be fun.”

  “Okay.” Amy wasn’t convinced. She’d known this was coming, but she sure wasn’t ready for it. Diego had more on the line here. How could he be so okay with it? Should she call him on it? For starting out so well, the day was disintegrating fast.

  “Can I walk you to your room?” Diego brought the evening to a close.

  “No. I’m good.”

  “Great. Goodnight, then.” He blew her a kiss goodnight, his go-to move at intimacy between them, and called Dulce to him. The mutt looked back and forth between Amy and Diego and sat down on her haunches.

  Diego laughed as he left. “Traitor,” he softly scolded the li
ttle dog.

  Amy sat on in the den. The room seemed so much bigger now Diego had gone; his presence was like that. She looked at the various photos on the mantelpiece. Most were of his family, in some he stood with his teammates, and there was one of him standing on white sand in front of a beautiful ocean. He looked larger than life.

  Dulce whined, and Amy picked her up. The little dog was her only ally in this new game. She buried her face in the soft fur. Dulce smelled of dog shampoo and something else, something wonderfully earthy and natural. The dog snuggled into her arms with a contented groan.

  “Come on, let’s go upstairs, sweet one.”

  In the kitchenette her phone beeped. She shoved her cocoa mug into the microwave and reached for it. For a second, she hoped Simon had finally answered her texts.

  “OMG. I just saw a promo of U and D on TV. UR FAMOUS! Let’s get together!”

  Not Simon, then. It was Blythe, the assistant store manager at her Starbucks. Blythe hadn’t given her the time of day when she worked there, and now a text? Knight had warned her about this kind of thing.

  “People will come out of the woodwork when they see you with Diego,” he had told her. “They’ll all want a piece of you. Stay away from them.”

  Amy deleted the text and dropped the phone back on the counter. She didn’t like a world where Paul Knight knew how it all fit together better than she did.

  “Come on, Dulce. Let’s go to bed.”

  CHAPTER 5

  “You’re done studying,” Darla said softly.

  “I have a paper due,” Amy protested, but she knew it was futile.

  “Well I have something else due. Or someone else to do, should I say.”

  Amy’s chest fizzed with excitement. Darla moved to her side. She dropped her hand on Amy’s shoulder and slid it down her bare arm until their fingers entwined. A soft tug. The book slid from her grasp. Another soft tug. She was up and out of her chair.