Status: In Progress.

Cheating Across the Pond

I Do.

“Miss Giggs would you mind meeting me in my office?” There he was. The man. The myth. The legend. Sir Alex Ferguson. We had barely spoken since my first day, even though he often talked to Rob to discuss fitness and lineups. I was just an intern after all.

“Of course not,” I stumbled over the words, which seemed all the more fitting since I was stumbling out of my chair and over my feet to follow him. My heart was pounding in my ears as I walked through the now empty halls, the crowd, VIPs and non-VIPs, alike have all left and the players are now all home relaxing and preparing for the celebrations to follow a win like today’s. I suddenly became hyperaware of all the pictures of the Manchester United Greats that adorned the walls and I tried to focus on the living legend in front of me.

What could he want?

Did he know?

Am I going to be fired?

It took everything I had to keep myself from shaking.

It seemed like the hallway stretched on for miles and it took an eternity of only the soft clicks of Sir Alex’s shoes and the soft padding of my sneakers against the tile to reach the office.

With a flourish, he opened the door, “Please, come in.” He sat behind his impressive desk and swiveled to look out the large window that overlooked the pitch. The desk was covered with papers, magazines and a computer. “Sit,” he gestured to the empty chair on the other side of the wooden expanse.

Like a robot, I complied, sitting in the chair.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I met my wife, Cathy?” The Scottish lilt took a little bit of the edge off.

Only a little.

I had only spoken to Sir Alex a handful of times since our introduction. He knew and I knew that he had never told me, “No, you haven’t.”

“It was at a strike meeting at the Remington typewriter and shaver factory we both worked at. I was playing with Dunfermline at the time. I can remember it like yesterday, I remember thinking ‘She was pretty, had a lovely walk and a nice bum, and I made it my business to find out that she was Cathy Holding from Toryglen, near Hampden.’ We were married in a little over a year.”

“A whirlwind romance,” I said unsure of where he was going or what he intended.

“Indeed it was,” His eyes wandered across my hands folded in my lap and lingered on the engagement ring, “Who’s the lucky fella?”

“Stephen Parker,” I paused unsure how else to describe him, “He’s back in California.”

“Waiting for you?”

“He’s hoping to get a transfer out here.”

He chuckled, “So are thousands of other young lads,” There was nothing judgmental in his voice. Only the deep laugh that echoed through the office. Nothing in his eyes to tell me why he asked to speak to me. Just the twinkle of good-natured banter. Something about Sir Alex Ferguson told me that he wasn’t one to just make small talk and liked to get know the revolving door of interns.

I couldn’t help but smile at his joke, “He’s a business man, climbing the corporate ladder, you know. He’s been chosen to head up the Manchester branch of his company. It’s just a matter of time before its official.”

“And Ronny?”

“What about Cristiano?” I asked slowly, unsure of what exactly he knew and how he felt about it.

“I know for a fact that he thinks you’re pretty and has a lovely walk and made it his business to know that you’re Alyssa Giggs from Orange County, near Los Angeles.”

“He doesn’t think I have a nice bum?”

Sir Alex laughed a loud booming laugh that filled the whole office, “Well let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” And then he paused and the ensuing silence seemed louder than the laugh that preceded it, “I like you, I want you to know that. The players respect you, which is half the battle, and you’re good and efficient. Based on how the past few months have gone, I would like to bring you on as Rob’s assistant. I brought you up here to let you know, I see how Ronny looks at you. I had that same look on my face that night in that factory during that strike meeting.”

“I suppose it’s a good thing I’m getting engaged then.”

His eyes darted to the ring on my finger.

The white gold band felt hot against my skin and I wanted to rip it off just so I could get rid of the feeling.

“We’ll see.” He unwrapped a stick of gum, “You can go now. And please, call me Alex. I don’t even know why I accepted the bloody thing.”


Why do I do this to myself?

Why do I keep going out with the boys, when my brain keeps telling me no? When I have a fiancé across the Pond waiting for me? When I have to remain professional?

At least I wasn’t drinking tonight. I’ve been nursing a glass of cranberry juice all night.

Cristiano wasn’t drinking either. We kept a measured distance between us. Making sure that we were never directly sitting next to each other. Even sober, we didn’t trust ourselves around each other.

I drank the last of the ruby red drops that collected in the bottom of my glass and looked up to realize that it was only Cristiano and me in the booth.

“You must think I’m being silly,” I looked up into those brown eyes and my body seemed to hum like an electric current, “Avoiding you. You must think I’m a coward.”

“No not cowardly,” Cristiano paused searching for the word in English, “Just, unsure. Cautious.”

“Wayne knows. He knows what we did. He promised he wouldn’t say anything.”

“Wayne is a good person. He wouldn’t betray his friends like that.”

“You’re right. I was just careless and it slipped out. I-”

Before I could continue, Cristiano’s mouth crushed against mine. And suddenly, it was like nothing mattered. The world was spinning and the only thing that seemed to anchor me to the ground was Cristiano and his lips.

I had to force myself to stop. To pull away. We weren’t drunk. In fact we were painfully sober. If we were drunk then I would have had an excuse but all I had was the stone cold truth.

“Why did you do that?” My lips were bruised and chapped. “I have Stephen. He’s-”

“Does he make you feel like this?” His lips moved against my neck. He took my hand in his and placed it flush against his hard chest. I could feel his heart beating erratically against my palm. “Tell me you don’t feel it too. Tell me.” He pulled away and stared into my eyes. Demanding. Needing.

Lie. Lie. Lie. Was all my brain could tell me. Feed him a lie. Just lie. “I do,” I whispered. The words leaving my lips before I could even stop myself. “I do.”

I do.
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Sorry for not updating in like forever and a day! I hope you guys liked this chapter. Please comment and review :D