Nonetheless, he smiled at the journalist from Sports Illustrated sitting next to him in the back of his limousine as though he had never in his life suffered an iota of pain.

She was furiously taking notes, so he focused on the Quality Street–style San Francisco homes slipping past them like the reels of the old films his mãe had been obsessed with.

“It’s okay to admit you’re in pain,” Zee had said to him that morning on the phone. “Even if it’s just taking a moment to whimper like a puppy in the privacy of your bathroom.”

Rico needed a moment in a bathroom.

He also needed to channel Zee’s disregard for preconceived notions, radical in their world. Zee was the kind of pretty boy who made Rico look like a lumberjack. But he was so comfortable with it he matched up the earrings he wore, in both ears, with Tanya. They even had a hashtag. #TeeZeeTwinning. The fans loved it.

We’re not here for the macho stereotypes, we’re here for the game. Zee had the best lines. Zee also still had the game. Rico didn’t. Not that he would ever be jealous of Zee.

Rico wondered what the journalist was scrawling away on that pad. All her questions had been about endorsements and what he did for leisure. Other than good old CK, he endorsed brands if they backed the causes he believed in. One of the best things that had happened to advertising in this past decade was that social conscience had become part of it. Sure, brands exploited causes for profit, but they brought focus to things that needed attention. The world was nothing if not symbiotic, and one of the things Rico was proudest of in his life was that Manchester United had partnered with UNICEF to raise funds to build schools across Asia and Africa.

As for leisure, well, there hadn’t been much of that in the past decade. In his future there seemed to be nothing but leisure stretched out like endless desert sands.

Not that he could say that when asked about his plans—another favorite question. He’d mouthed the same drivel he’d been handing out since he signed on for the show. He was excited about turning to his causes and hobbies. Learning how to cook was step one. Then he’d plugged the show some.

The journalist put down her pen and started the recorder up again. “So, you’d only recently had surgery and you still dived to catch that knife?”

Truly, he wished they’d stop with the knife. It wasn’t like he’d meant to do it. It was a damn reflex.