“Ah, Noah,” the older man replied. “Malcolm played very well today. It must run in the family.”
He was relatively new to the team and Malcolm loved him.
“Everything okay?” Noah repeated.
Coach Brooks sighed. He looked genuinely upset about something.
“The league is struggling,” he explained. “Nothing to concern you with.”
“Struggling?”
The poor man looked embarrassed. “Things are tough out there. We’ve lost a few sponsors.”
Now Noah was the one worried. Malcolm lived for his football.
“Enough to be a threat?”
The coach nodded.
“Send me the figures,” Noah said, decisively.
“You’re far too busy,” Coach Brooks said. “I couldn’t possibly?—”
“Please,” Noah interjected. “You have my emergency contact details. Use those.”
“If you’re sure. Any help would be wonderful.”
Noah nodded and returned to Ashley.
“Well?”
“They need money to keep the league going,” Noah explained.
Ashley narrowed her eyes. “And you’re going to give it to them?”
They walked toward the car park. Noah’s mind whirring. If he could help in any way, then he would.
“Maybe not me,” Noah explained. “I need to finish Malcolm’s trust fund, plus the house is taking more cash than I expected.”
He’d had a meeting with Ben, the construction manager. He’d warned him that these things often came in over budget. Noah had made it clear that he wasn’t a stupid footballer willing to pay whatever. He would be keeping a close eye on spending. He didn’t think Ben would rip him off but he could imagine his teammates wouldn’t be so careful with their money.
“What then?”
“Not sure yet. I’ll have to think about it.”
When they got to his Range Rover, Gordon waited next to it. Noah hugged Ashley and shook Gordon’s hand before setting off. Thankfully Ashley didn’t say anything about the league. Noah had no interest in Gordon’s opinions.
The motorway was quiet as Noah sped home to Brockton. The words of Coach Brooks were reverberating around in his head. There had to be something he could do. Noah spent his life surrounded by obscene amounts of money. Even though Brockton were a mid-table club.
He connected a call.
“Hello, gorgeous,” came the answer.
Noah grinned. Carmine still had a west coast American twang to his northern accent. It was adorable.
“Hey. How has your day been?”
“Great. I’ve got three potential new clients.”
