Hide & Seek - James Patterson [21]
“He is like a Blond Arrow—stretching toward the goal.”
“Will Shepherd is the complete egomaniac on the field; he has the consummate scorer's mentality. He plays as though he were alone out there.”
At nineteen, the Blond Arrow began to make the gossip columns as well. He was “fox hunting with friends in Gloucestershire,” “grouse shooting on Lord Dunne's moor near Balmoral,” “playing polo at Swinley Forest, in the presence of the Royal Family. The Blond Arrow cuts a dashing figure—wherever and with whomever.”
When he was twenty, Will led Liverpool to the League championship. He was arguably the biggest star in Europe. He was runner-up for FIFA's Best World Player award. “Frankly, Scarlett,” he commented on the award, “I don't give a fuck what anyone thinks of my playing. I'll tell you whether I'm the best or not.”
During the same time, Will had been playing international football with the U.S. team. It was his stubborn attempt to keep some connection with America. He quickly tired of being a very good player on a team of donkeys. He quit the team, and thus all international play.
The news stories rapidly became disturbing, and therefore much more interesting to the public. There were hints of alcohol abuse, of drugs, and worse. “Personal reasons” made him miss practices before games. Liverpool transferred him to an ambitious rival for two million pounds. In the off-season, Will began to drive Grand Prix race cars, an avocation forbidden by his contract. “If I live, it doesn't matter. If I die, it doesn't matter,” he was quoted on the racing flap.
The Blond Arrow was all the rage—absolutely irresistible.
CHAPTER 20
IRRESITIBLE.
Will drove Melanie Wellsfleet's supercharged red Ferrari sports car to her estate in Somerset. He got the new automobile up to over 115 at one point on the narrow, curvy road, and was seldom under ninety for the length of the trip.
“It's not a bloody race car!” Melanie laughed and shouted during one harrowing stretch of high speed and danger.
“It is now. With me at the wheel it is. Hang on, Mel. Ride of your life and all that.”
The estate in Somerset was everything Will had expected—and much, much more. The grounds seemed to have been tended with tweezers; the twenty-six rooms inside Ryertton Hall were like a Tudor museum.
“My boss lives very well off my efforts,” Will said to Melanie as she guided him through each of the nine bedrooms. Melanie was the thirty-one-year-old wife of Sir Charles Wellsfleet, who owned Will's football team, as well as a stable of racehorses and a well-respected publishing house. Charles Wellsfleet was sixty-nine years old.
“Charles owned this house long before you made the scene,” Melanie laughed, and gave Will a hug. They had been carrying on their secretive affair for the past four weeks. She couldn't get enough of Will, and was sure he felt the same way about her. He couldn't be faking that, the former high-fashion model reassured herself during an occasional “blue” moment.
“I missed you, I want you, I need you,” Melanie announced when they reached the master suite with its commanding view of a topiary garden and water terrace. “What do you need? What do you want?”
He seemed bemused by the question. He wandered around the spacious suite, searching through Melanie's dresser drawers and her huge walk-in closet. He selected several dresses, evening gowns, lingerie, stockings, shoes, and laid them all out on the bed and floor.
“May I ask what you're up to, Will?” Melanie pouted just a little. “I didn't know you had a fetish for my clothing.”
“As a matter of fact, I do. Will you model for me? I've never seen you in any of these lovely getups. I'd very much like to.”
Melanie smiled. She loved his imagination, his games, his need to play. He wasn't another empty-headed player like so many others she'd sampled in the past. Will had also lived up to his reputation as a sensational lover. She now thoroughly understood this “Blond Arrow” business. She was obsessed with him, and couldn't imagine any healthy woman who wouldn't be. He was