Fuck yeah I was interested.
“You still have no right to talk without my knowing it, Mo.” I didn’t sound so angry anymore. But I still had loyalty.
“I can’t do that to the boys,” I argued.
Mo snorted. “You’re telling me that if Craig or Alan or Shane were given a twenty million deal to one of the top flight clubs they wouldn’t take it in a heartbeat? Don’t be a wanker.”
“Don’t make me punch you,” I warned.
Mo lifted his hands in surrender. “All I’m asking is to think about it. I can send you the official offer. Look it over. Then we can talk. Don’t undersell yourself, Lucas. Take what you can now because you never know what tomorrow will bring. You may be hot shit now, but next season who knows. Look at what happened to Phil Sousa.”
Phil Sousa was a great cautionary tale to all footballers. Ten years ago Phil was the league’s top scorer. His team went on to win the league then the FA cup. He was days away from signing a three-year contract that would have awarded him millions of pounds when he collided with another player during training and broke his leg in two places. His career was over. He never played again.
He was the reminder that it could all be over in a moment. There was an element of frantic desperation in the heart of every football player. We all knew that our time in the sun was fleeting.
I got to my feet. “Okay, we’re done here.” I was annoyed with Mo for using the ghost of Sousa to scare me. I was more annoyed that it had worked.
The impulse to take the money was overwhelming.
“Look, I love your loyalty Luke. It’s one of your more exasperating and endearing qualities. But don’t let it blind you.”
“Says the man who’s loyal only to his own pocket,” I muttered. He ignored my comment.
“Before you go, there’s something else,” he added.
There was a note in his voice. One that I didn’t like.
“I’ve gotten word from a contact I have at The Mirror that they have a story in the works about you,” Mo said.
“So? They’re always printing stories about me.”
Mo leaned over and put his hand on my arm. The display of physical comfort worried me more than anything. “Your dad is trying to sell information to the highest bidder. Offering an insider look at your childhood. He’s handed over head teacher reports from primary school. He’s selling your school photos.” I was clenching my teeth so hard I thought I’d break my jaw. Mo squeezed my arm. “He’s also saying your mother sent him money when you first signed with Canterbury. That she’s been giving him money for years. Your money.”
I saw red. I slammed my fist down on the table; a spider web of cracks fanning out beneath my hand.
“Luke, that’s brand fucking new!” Mo shouted.
“That fucking arsehole!” I roared. I got to my feet and kicked over my chair. I closed my eyes and tried to get my temper in check.
It wasn’t the first time the sleaze who shared my DNA tried to make money off my name. When I first started playing in the Championship he contacted The Sun and tried to sell information about me for a story. Unfortunately for him, they weren’t interested. I wasn’t a name then. They didn’t care that I had been on a behavior plan when I was in year three or that I had knocked out my neighbor’s tooth when he stole my skateboard.
Now, that information came with a price tag.
And there was no way my mother would send him money. Particularlymymoney. I wouldn’t believe it.
“Calm down, Lucas. Just calm down. Getting angry and destroying my property won’t solve anything. And I’ll insist on you coming with me to IKEA and pick out new patio furniture,” Mo admonished.
I tried to breathe deeply. I thought about beaches and puppies and Morgan’s gorgeous tits. Anything to stop me from beating the shit out of the first person I came across.
Mo put his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll get the solicitors on it. They’ll slap him with a defamation suit. Or a slander suit. Or any suit just to get him to shut up. I only wanted you to know what he was trying in case he comes to you—”
“I haven’t heard from that spineless sod since I was twelve. He’s too much of a coward to come to me for anything,” I snapped.
“I know talking about your dad is a sensitive subject. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“You tell him that if he says one thing about my mum that I’ll come for him myself. I’ll rip his ball sack from his body and shove it down his fucking throat,” I snarled. God I wanted to hit something. Unfortunately from Mo, he was the only one in hitting distance. But I couldn’t very well punch my agent.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a message from Morgan. I was supposed to pick her up twenty minutes ago.
