“By the narrowest of margins. You lost the league because Wanderers outscored you, but only by two goals. And if you hadn’t gotten injured so early in the FA Cup final—”
“But I did!” Erin’s voice rose; it seemed to take effort for her to rein herself back in. “I didn’t score enough to win us the league. And I wasn’t fit enough to compete in the cup.”
Lia realised what Erin was saying—that she blamed herself for her team’s losses, though the team won and lost all together. “It’s not your fault that you got hurt.” Surely Erin couldn’t think it was. “And you’ll be back before you know it.”
Drawing herself to her full height, Erin snarled. “What, you’re an expert physio now on top of everything else?”
Lia gulped. If she’d had the space, she would’ve taken a step back.
“Answer the fucking question.” Erin’s eyes blazed with anger. “Why did you come here, to my club? You already bested me last season. You’re already better. You scored more, you won more, you proved to everyone that they were right, that you’re the new striker on the scene and that my time as the best might be over. You could have gone anywhere. Did you have to come here to oust me from my team as well?”
Lia stared at Erin in disbelief. “I’m sorry; you think I came here—left the only club I’ve known my whole adult life, that I loved more than anything—to what? Take your place? To specifically mess with you? That I have some agenda against you and only you? Jesus Christ, I knew you had an ego, but this—”
“I have an ego?” Erin stepped closer, so close that her heaving chest nearly brushed against Lia’s. “You’re the one who’s been going around telling every interviewer you can get your hands on that you want to be as good as me, that you want to get to my level.”
Lia was so annoyed that she couldn’t bring herself to be flattered that Erin had read her interviews. That Erin took any kind of interest in her at all. “Because I admire you! Because you are the best. Because if I could be as good as you, even a fraction as talented as you, I’d be happy.” Shaking her head, Lia forced her way past Erin. “You’re right. I do have my reasons for staying in Manchester. But I can assure you that they have nothing to do with you.”
Without another word, Lia strode back to their booth, leaving Erin behind. She was still seething by the time she settled back into her seat. Who the hell did Erin Finch think she was?
* * *
After watching Lia storm away, Erin chose to stay by the bar. When a warm body came to join her, Erin wasn’t surprised. She breathed in the familiar scent of Alex’s cologne.
“You’re missing the newbies singing their initiation songs,” Alex said.
A stupid tradition, in Erin’s opinion. “I thought I’d spare my ears.”
“But you like watching them humiliate themselves.”
Alex had her there. Erin cocked her head, but it was hard to hear anything when so many other booths were scattered around.
“Lia’s singing You’re So Vain. There are whispers that she’s singing it about you.”
Erin crushed a cocktail napkin in her fist. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not there to give her the satisfaction of watching her sing it, then, isn’t it?”
With a heavy sigh, Alex poked Erin in the shoulder. “What’s your deal with her?”
“There is no deal with her.”
“Come on. You tried to brush me off the other day, but did you think we wouldn’t notice the pair of you having a screaming match a few minutes ago? You weren’t exactly subtle.”
Had Shanice sent Alex to come and chastise her, or had they come of their own free will? She wasn’t sure which was worse.
Alex wasn’t done, either. “You’re lucky we’re not at home, and that there are no reporters around. The papers would have had a field day if they’d seen you.”
Closing her eyes, Erin took a deep breath. Alex was right. She’d acted rashly. But Lia… She got under Erin’s skin. She had for a while now. Before she’d come to Albion, as her meteoric rise to the top had increasingly led to Lia’s name being mentioned alongside Erin’s in the media.
“Do you want to tell me what you were arguing about?”
“No.”
Alex’s sigh was heavy. “Look, I know it’s hard to be out injured. And I know what it’s like to watch someone else take your spot.”
Remaining silent, Erin stared straight ahead. Sometimes she hated that Alex knew her so well. It wasn’t every day she was easy to read.
“But she isn’t going to replace you, Erin.” Alex settled a warm hand on Erin’s arm. “No one can.”
“Everyone is replaceable,” Erin whispered, giving voice for the first time to the thoughts that had been swirling around her head ever since she’d been stretchered off the Wembley pitch. “Every record will eventually be broken. Every player eventually has to step aside and let a new one take her place.”
