“Braver?”
“Yes, facing off with—” She glanced toward the edge of the roof.
No, it wasn’t the same experience for me. I wasn’t questioning the status of my relationships. I wasn’t questioning my career choice. Or doubting my father’s wishes. Or being the good son. Wasn’t going to see my life going any other way.
This was how it had always been…
Second guessing myself had never been an issue for me. Though with Daisy, that trait felt threatened.
If I stayed and we became more than friends, she became mine, what kind of life would she have? Married to a man like my father, Daisy would be as miserable as my mother had been. At some point, she’d see no reason to stay. The pattern would be repeated. I’d be left as heartbroken and alone as my father had been.
She seemed to sense my reticence. “I’m not going to see you ever again, am I?”
“No, Daisy, I’m afraid not.”
“Max…”
I was already walking away, trying to suppress feelings of regret for leaving her. Whatever this was, staying and marking out a future with her would be as reckless as stepping off that ledge.
I wasn’t that kind of man.
I was a third generation Marquis.
Now and again, a talent comes along who astounds a nation. A person who has the potential to excel beyond the ordinary. Nick was that man. Football was in his DNA. His father had him playing as soon as he could walk. Major league coaches had kept him in their sights.
He was not only my brother, he was my hero, too. I loved this sport as only a Brazilian could—it ran through my blood.
During my visits, there was nothing I liked better than sitting in the stadium seats and watching Nick train.
Leaning forward with my elbows on my knees, I was riveted by his ability to run in different directions with the ball in full control. His balance and coordination were enviable. This would always be the highlight of our time together…the hours dissolving as we talked football, forgetting all too easily everything else in life.
After practice, Nick joined me up in the first row. We sat side by side watching a little league team playing on the field while we spent quality time together. The referee shouted instructions to the young players and they fell into line.
Ten minutes ago, Nick had been surrounded by those kids while he signed autographs. To them, he’d already made it. He was a poster on their walls and a player they could aspire to be like. The fact he was watching them play would leave an indelible mark. This side of Nick made up for his foibles.
“Manchester United will be lucky to have you,” I told him. “You’re not only a good player, you’ll be kind to your fans.”
Nick wiped sweat from his brow with a towel. “I just need to focus on the game.”
I gave him a nudge. “You remind me of your dad.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “I wish.”
“You focus on what’s important.”
He sat up. “You always did see me.”
“I’m your brother.”
“You know what Dad was like. The bar was set so fucking high.”
“That’s what made him an icon.” I shook my head. “But don’t let all of that go to your head.”
“Like he did?”
“He came from humble beginnings. Your background is different.”
“You mean privileged?”
“Privilege only gets you so far. You’re proving you deserve to be here.”
“What do you think Mum saw in him?”
“Your dad? I’m guessing his thighs.”
“Shut up. I mean, he was obsessed with football.”
“She’s independent. Always has been.”
“Like you, Max. Even down to the killer good looks.” He flashed me a devilish grin.
Nick always made me smile. “Football is a sexy sport.”
“You don’t hate him for stealing your mum away from your dad?”
“I was very young.” Seven, but I remember everything.
Enough years had gone by for me to see it from Mum’s perspective. My dad had been a hard man to love. Our family had placed second to his passion for winning cases most lawyers wouldn’t take on. Mum had looked for love, and she’d found it in Nick’s dad—along with adventure, too, apparently.
A visit to England with her sister twenty-six years ago had changed our lives irrevocably. During a game at Wembley Stadium, Nick’s father had spotted her in the crowd. At half-time, he’d given her his number. The fact she was married hadn’t put him off. Then again, she’d been named one of Brazil’s most beautiful women. Most men had a hard time looking away from her beauty.
I changed the subject. “Everything okay at home?”
“Yeah, seems that way. Though I’ve not kept up with the family saga.”
“What saga?”
“You know what Mum’s like. Continues her social climbing. She’s joined some elite group that donates to the Royal Heritage. They meet once a week. I think she’s checking out the families to find you a potential wife.”
I leaned back, trying not to think of her scheming. “She just wants us to be happy.”
“Define happy.”
“Well, you are, aren’t you?”
He scraped his fingers through his hair. “Trying to be.”
“You moved in with Morgan?”
“Yeah, she has a penthouse. It’ll do until I sell my house and we buy something together. You should come stay with us. No more booking into hotels, okay?”
“I don’t mind it, but why the change of heart? You never had me over to your house when Daisy was there.”
He shrugged. “I should have. The place is just so small.”
“London is expensive.”
“I’m twenty-five. And you know what that means.”
“Access to your trust fund.” He’d never been short of money, though.
“I love the house in Bermondsey, but there are too many memories there. With Dad… you know. And Daisy and I living there.”
“Mum bought me my first place, too.” The mansion in São Paulo had a breathtaking view of the city. Just thinking of it made me homesick.
“Maybe I’ll visit you in the summer.” He glanced at me. “If you don’t mind?”
“I’d love that.”
“The salary from MU is pretty decent, too.”
We were talking a multi-million dollar deal within the premier league. Not too shabby for someone his age.
“Is Morgan financially stable?” I asked.
“Yeah, she’s paid by sponsors. She doesn’t care what people think of her. She’ll try anything once.”
“An extrovert, then.”
“She matches my sense of fun.” He turned to look at me. “How’s things in São Paulo?”
“Firm’s doing great.” I let out a wary breath, trying to find the words to tell him I had seen Daisy yesterday. Revealing her escapades might rekindle his interest in her. The fact she was willing to hang off The Shard would probably blow his mind.
Nick sprung to his feet. “Goal!”
My attention shot to the kid on the field who’d scored. His teammates were jumping up and down around him with joy. I pushed to my feet to praise him with a standing ovation. When the nine-year-old saw Nick applauding from the stands he almost fell over.