Free The Reluctant Wag by Mary Costello Page B

hyperbaric chamber,’ Bev explained. ‘She says he’s determined to get himself right ASAP.’
    Yes, Merise thought, and to hell with everyone and everything else. And she knew the photographer was right – the media would be onto this like a shot. It was ridiculous that every move this man made – every tiny creak of his muscles – was reported, discussed, dissected; the source of endless speculation. No wonder he was so puffed up with his own importance. But what was really irritating her was that she minded at all. She had to face it, she’d been deeply disappointed when he’d cancelled. Whether she liked to admit it or not, she’d wanted to see him. This man had some sort of hold over her, and she hated it!
    It was about ten days later that Merise saw the first Yarraside ad on TV. She and Erica were having a quiet night in front of the TV watching a crime thriller, when the ad came on. It was a shock. The very first frame was a close-up of Merise’s face, looking nervous. It then cut to Cal scoring a goal, then back to Merise cheering with delight.
    ‘Oh no!’ she exclaimed. ‘Did I really get that excited?’
    Then, immediately after scoring, Cal turned and smiled into the stands, only the ad was cut so that he appeared to be smiling directly at her. She appeared to be smiling back, and the last frame was of the two of them touching hands as he went down the race.
    ‘Oh, my God!’ squealed Erica, ‘it really looks as if you two have a thing going on.’
    ‘Well, we don’t,’ Merise insisted, but she’d seen how it looked. Who would believe her? And what would he think of her, making a spectacle of herself like that? He’d think she was throwing herself at him. At that thought the hot shame rose into her cheeks and she covered her face with her hands.
    ‘What?’ asked Erica.
    ‘Nothing,’ Merise mumbled, ‘I’ll just die of embarrassment.’
    The next week, Bev rang to let her know that the gala football season launch would take place the following Friday and that Merise was expected to go.
    ‘It’s a big TV event – especially the red carpet, so you’ve got to be there.’
    Merise quailed. She’d seen highlights of last year’s launch on the news and remembered how the fans and media gathered at the entrance to the casino to ogle the players and the WAGS as they arrived. But if she couldn’t get out of it, she could probably slip in early or late and keep a very low profile.
    ‘You’ll be going as Cal McCoy’s partner,’ Bev added, and somehow Merise’s heart dipped and soared at the same time. So much for that low profile.
    ‘But . . . I can’t. I mean . . . I don’t think he’ll be too happy.’
    ‘Why do you say that?’
    ‘Well, we don’t exactly get on.’
    ‘Oh, I see. No, I suppose you two don’t have much in common. But you’re wrong, you know; it was his suggestion to take you.’
    ‘Really?’ That floored Merise. What did it mean?
    ‘Oh yes. He lives for Yarraside. He’d do anything that he thought would be good for the club. And trust me, you’re good for the club.’
    Yeah, that made sense. She’d be a handy accessory. ‘But . . .’ She searched for some way out. If she arrived with Cal, there would be no hiding place. ‘It’s just, I’ve got nothing to wear.’
    ‘No worries, as soon as people hear you’ll be coming as Cal McCoy’s partner, every designer in Australia will be falling all over themselves to dress you.’
    Merise cringed – at the thought of ‘Cal McCoy’s partner’ being her claim to fame – but part of her buzzed with excitement. Did he really only choose her as his partner for the sake of the club? Everything about Cal McCoy was so troubling and confusing. Damn! If only she could feel normal again.
    Merise knew that she looked good when she stood in front of the mirror on Friday night. She had spent the afternoon having her hair styled and getting a manicure, a pedicure and her make-up done. She felt that she really