Authors: Michelle Betham
‘Whoa, I hadn’t thought of that angle. What a great idea! Do you think he’ll go for it?’
‘I’ll try putting it to him after we have the conversation about the son he kept secret from me for twenty years and our childless marriage, shall I?’
Max looked at her, aware this was a subject he should handle with care. She was doing the shoot, and that was a step in the right direction as far as he was concerned.
She turned away for a brief second, looking over at the training pitch where Ryan and the other Red Star players were busy doing laps. ‘So,
are
you here because of Ryan?’
‘I’m here to tell Jim to ignore any loan request that idiot may have put forward.’
‘He’s serious, then?’
‘Of course he’s not serious. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s just being childish. He can’t have what he wants so he decides the only other course of action is to throw his toys out of the pram. Typical footballer behaviour.’
Amber raised her eyebrows as she looked at Max. ‘
I
think he’s serious.’
Max fixed her with a questioning look. ‘You do?’
‘I know Ryan. I got close to him, Max. Remember?’
‘Yeah, well, serious or not, it isn’t happening. He’s going nowhere. Besides, Red Star aren’t going to let him go, not when they’re chasing a second league title, European glory
and
the FA Cup. What club in their position would let a striker of Ryan’s ability go elsewhere? He’s an idiot, and an extremely naive idiot at that, to even think this was going to happen.’
‘Are you going to spend the rest of your life sorting his out?’ Amber asked, quickly checking her watch.
‘Probably,’ Max sighed. ‘You off home?’
She nodded. ‘It’s been a tough few days. I think I deserve an hour in the bath and an afternoon in front of daytime TV, don’t you?’
‘Amber, listen. Cloud Sports – they’re unbelievably happy with you, they want you to know that. Ratings for their shows are up, and that episode of
Scoreline
you did with Brandon Palmer had a record amount of viewers. There’s even a rumour going round that subscriptions to the Cloud Sports channels are up since you joined the team. And you were brilliant over the weekend, kiddo. Especially considering the amount of crap you’ve had on your mind.’
She looked down at the ground before turning her attention back to the training pitch, watching as Ryan dribbled a ball past half a dozen other players, finally slamming it into the back of the net before punching the air and shouting out loud. ‘Well, you’d be surprised how much work takes your mind off things.’ She smiled at Max, a smile she wasn’t entirely sure had reached her eyes. ‘And I had Ronnie there for support, didn’t I?’
‘You sure you’re okay?’ Max asked. He cared a lot about this woman. She’d been – and still was, whether she knew it or not – a big part of Ryan’s life, and Ryan was like a son to him. Which was why he needed to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. That neither of them did anything stupid.
‘I’m fine, Max. I’m just tired. I’ll talk to you later.’
‘Yeah, sure. Later.’
He watched her walk off in the direction of the car park, an air of something he couldn’t quite put his finger on surrounding her. Whatever it was, he just hoped everything turned out okay for her, because she was a talent that was only going to get bigger, and he’d discovered her. How bloody good was he?
Walking inside the administration block, he smiled at the receptionist, throwing her a wink as he sauntered past the front desk to the elevator. He just had this little matter of Ryan’s loan request to sort out then he could go and meet another potential new client for lunch. Max Mandell’s star was still rising, mainly because nobody could do it like him. Nobody.
Ryan stopped what he was doing and turned to see what had grabbed the attention of most of his teammates. It was the wolf-whistles that had distracted him, meaning it was probably the arrival of one of the more celebrated WAGs turning up unannounced that had caused this sudden rush of schoolboy behaviour. But then, some of the lads
were
attached to women that positively courted this kind of reaction.
Stopping the ball with the heel of his boot, he stood on it to keep it still, turning to see just which WAG it was that had stopped training in its tracks. And his stomach dropped the second he saw her. In a short black dress and knee-high boots, her long, dark red hair tied back in a high ponytail, she looked incredible. There’d once been a time when she’d come here to the training ground to see him, and he couldn’t help remembering the heart-stopping sex they’d had in the showers of the dressing room, or the way she’d stood on the touchline, watching him train, promising him so much with just one look. No matter how hard he tried to push all those thoughts away, they were going nowhere, because he knew why she’d been there this morning. And it had nothing to do with him. She’d been there to see Jim. And considering they’d been apart for almost a week it seemed highly unlikely she’d just popped in to say hello. He’d caught them once, over at Tynebridge, having sex in the boss’s office – had she come to see her husband for a repeat performance?
‘When did she get so frigging sexy?’ Gary whistled, his hands on his hips as he stood watching Amber disappear into the car park.
‘When she married the boss,’ Ryan replied, kicking the ball he’d had underneath his foot so hard it almost reached the other end of the pitch.
Gary turned to look at him. ‘Like I said, mate, you need to reel that in, get it under control. Yeah, she’s hot, but she’s not yours anymore. She is well and truly off-limits now.’
‘You know, it’s a good job you’re here to remind me of that fact, Gaz. I’d hate to think I’d ever forget it.’
‘Okay, okay. Chill out. Come on, let’s get back to the game otherwise we’ll have Colin on our backs, and that’s the last thing I want today. I’ve got enough to deal with thanks to Debbie’s obsession with redecorating the house from top to bottom. I can’t move for frigging wallpaper samples and colour charts. I’ve got no idea what’s wrong with her at the minute, but it’s doing my head in.’
Ryan retrieved another ball from a net on the touchline. ‘Yeah, but it’s not like you’ve got to go home and get the paintbrush out. She’ll get a man in, won’t she?’
‘I have no doubt she’ll be getting several men in, and I suspect more than one of them will be wielding more than a fucking paintbrush in her direction.’
‘And you’re all right with that, are you?’
Gary folded his arms as he fixed Ryan with a look. ‘As long as it means I don’t have to get involved in what colour the bloody kitchen ends up, I’m fine with it, mate. Gives me more time to please meself.’
‘Fisher! Blandford! Less frigging chat and more football, you got that?’ Colin Bailey yelled over. Gary held a hand up in reply and nodded at their coach, running backwards, away from Ryan.
‘Come on, let’s move it before he starts getting agitated.’ Gary indicated with his head to where Colin was standing watching them, arms folded, a stern expression on his face, and Ryan couldn’t help but laugh. Once training was over he’d give Ellen a call, see if she was free, although he had no doubt she would be. He only had to click his fingers and she’d be there, ready to give him whatever he needed. Yeah, when all was said and done he may not have the woman he really wanted, but he had one that would certainly do for now.
‘If he wants to go, I’ll try my best to sort it out for him.’
Max looked at Jim, trying to take in just what he was telling him. ‘Hang on… are you saying you’ll
accept
Ryan’s request to be loaned out? Only Ryan told me you’d rejected it. Which is what you
should
do.’
Jim looked up from his laptop, staring at Max as though he’d just asked the most ridiculous question possible. ‘Well, I’ve been thinking. And if that’s what he wants, then maybe it’s for the best.’
‘No.’ Max shook his head. ‘No, this isn’t happening. Forget he even asked, Jim, come on. There’s no way the board of directors will go for it anyway. Your season can’t survive without him.’
‘One man doesn’t make a team, Max. You should know that.’
‘Jim, most of the players on my frigging books think their teams would fall apart without them. I’m surprised half of them can get through the door, the size of their egos. And like I said, the board of directors here at Red Star aren’t going to let you loan Ryan Fisher out, are they? Not without a damn good reason.’
Jim looked at Max again, his expression oozing cool. ‘I consider one of my players still being in love with my wife a damn good reason. Don’t you?’ He turned his attention back to his laptop. ‘However, I want Fisher’s reasons for needing a break from Red Star brought out into the open less than anyone around here, so this won’t be happening immediately, even though, technically, we still have a few days of the August transfer window left. If he wants to join another club that badly he can wait until I’ve worked out a way to make it happen. I need to talk to a few people first, see if it’s possible, because I’m assuming – if he really is serious about this – that he doesn’t have the patience to wait until the January transfer window opens.’
Max sat down on the arm of the sofa opposite Jim’s desk, folding his arms. ‘How the hell are you going to get everyone here to agree to this? Providing it all goes ahead, which it isn’t going to, because I’m going to do all I can to make sure of that.’
‘They listen to me,’ Jim said, ignoring Max’s comments. ‘Persuading them to lose Fisher for a few months will be easy.’
‘Oh, you think so, do you?’
Jim looked up, staring right at Max with an expression of determination Max wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before. On anyone. ‘I know so. Look, Max, you know as well as I do that the August transfer deadline means nothing, not really. I could still make sure he leaves this club within a matter of days, at any point in time. If I wanted to.’
‘But you don’t want to.’
‘No. Not yet. And anyway, it isn’t a matter of what
I
want, is it?’ He fixed Max with another look. ‘It all depends on Ryan.’
‘Jim, come on. The kid hasn’t got a clue what he’s doing. We don’t even know if there’s a club out there interested in him…’
Jim just looked at Max, raising an eyebrow.
Max stood up, walking towards the door. ‘Unless he comes to you again, Jim, can we consider this something that we’re talking about on a purely hypothetical basis?’
‘If that’s what you want.’
‘It’s what I want. I’m his agent, and it’s my job to make sure he doesn’t piss his career away by making stupid decisions.’
‘Then we’ll say no more about it.’
‘Okay. Good. I’ll talk to you soon.’
Jim didn’t even look up as Max left his office, closing the door behind him. So Max wanted to make sure Ryan didn’t put his career in jeopardy with stupid decisions. Fair enough. He was Ryan’s agent, that was his job. But the thing was, what may have started out as a stupid decision, even in Jim’s eyes, now really didn’t seem all that stupid anymore.
Amber ran down the stairs, tying her bathrobe tight around her, her damp hair flying out behind her.
Flinging the front door open, forgetting for a second that she’d literally just climbed out of the bath and probably wasn’t looking her best, she smiled at the person standing on her doorstep, relieved that it wasn’t a total stranger there in front of her.
‘You should have called, Ronnie. I was in the bath.’
‘I wanted to surprise you.’ He grinned, holding up a bottle of sparkling wine.
‘Yeah, well, you’ve certainly done that.’
‘You gonna let me in or what?’
She stood aside to let him through into the hall, closing the door behind her and following him into the living room. ‘You’ve only brought one bottle?’
He turned to look at her, still grinning. ‘Well, I assumed you’d have at least one more in the house. Am I right?’
‘Of course you’re right. What kind of person do you think I am?’ she laughed. ‘Give me five minutes, okay? I’ll just go throw some clothes on.’
She ran upstairs, ridiculously happy to see him, despite the fact she’d only left him at Newcastle Airport a few hours ago. It was just nice to have some company. Jim had called to say he was going to be late home due to a meeting with the club’s sponsors, and she hadn’t really been looking forward to spending yet more hours alone, dwelling on what she was going to say to him once he did get home. Ronnie would be a nice distraction. And a couple of drinks wouldn’t hurt. A bit of Dutch courage was never a bad thing.
Slipping on denim shorts and a sleeveless white t-shirt, she ran back downstairs to find Ronnie already settled on the sofa, two glasses of wine poured and waiting on the table.
‘I could get used to this, being waited on hand and foot.’ She smiled, sitting down next to him, curling her legs up underneath her before reaching for her glass of wine.
‘Well, just to let you know, I don’t do washing up.’
‘Neither do I. That’s what dishwashers are for.’
‘When’s Jim gonna be home?’
‘Not until this evening now. He’s got a meeting with the club’s sponsors and after that he has to take a couple of them out for drinks, so it could be a late one, on a day when I really needed him to be home, too.’
‘You haven’t had a chance to talk to him yet, then?’
‘Well, I went to see him this morning at the training ground, but I guess turning up wearing nothing but a raincoat and high-heeled boots and then ordering him to have sex with me meant we didn’t really get round to doing much talking.’
‘Jesus, Amber,’ Ronnie spluttered, almost choking on his drink. ‘Are you kidding me? You really turned up at the training ground naked? Except for your
coat
?’
She shrugged, taking another gulp of wine. Not very ladylike, but she wasn’t exactly feeling very ladylike right now. ‘A bit clichéd, I know, but I wanted to give him no choice other than to fuck me, so what else was I supposed to do?’
‘I’m assuming he took you up on the offer,’ Ronnie said, feeling a stab of something he could only describe as envy pierce his heart. It was a strange feeling, but not a completely unfamiliar one. He was learning to control it better, that was all. It just wasn’t always that easy.