‘What?’
‘We’ll fix this.’ I’m not one hundred per cent convinced, but she needs to hear it.
‘Will we?’ Her eyes meet mine, vulnerable in a way I rarely see. ‘Because this feels like the beginning of the end.’
Her words drop into me, right where doubt and fear live. Elite Edge isn’t just a job for me. It’s redemption and a second chance after the agency job in London crushed me. If we go down because of Finn Lennox’s childish inability to keep his tadger in his trousers, I’m not sure what I’ll do.
This is why I keep my life so ordered. Once you let chaos in, it spreads like wildfire, consuming everything in its path.
‘Well then.’ She exhales and straightens her shoulders. The strategist is back. ‘Plan B. We contain the leak. We contact the tabloid and offer them an exclusive. We’ll send out a carefully worded statement, a photo of Finn looking appropriately remorseful. We minimise the damage and protect the team. We salvage what we can.’
Her fingers rest lightly on the keyboard, all steady now. The Charlie I know, love, and respect is emerging from the rubble of initial shock. The Charlie who gave everyone the manicured middle finger and started her own sports management agency. This is more like it. Action, not panic. Control, not chaos.
‘I’ll get the coffee, boss. Industrial-strength.’ I’m already calculating how many espresso shots we’ll need to survive the next twenty-four hours. ‘Then I’ll outline the statements. And start calling the sponsors.’
‘What would I do without you, Theo?’
‘Commit homicide, probably. Let’s save Finn’s career first. Then you can butcher him at your leisure.’ I offer her a tight smile. ‘We’ll get through this. Elite Edge is going to be huge, Charlie. Mark my words. We’ll be the biggest sports agency in Scotland.’
I mean it. I’m going to bust my butt to make that happen. Men might come and go – but our friendship, our shared ambition, that’s the real love story. The one I’m determined to see through to its happily ever after.
Chapter 2
Finn
I’m sitting in one of Charlie Harrington’s chairs, legs sprawled in a way that says I don’t give a fuck.
Except I do. Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.
My right knee bounces as if it’s got its own heartbeat. I’m early, she’s late. Maybe grabbing a coffee to buy herself two more minutes of not having to deal with me. Mac, one of the few people on Charlie’s team, let me in and said she’d be right back.
I check my phone. 11:23.
By now, they’ll be lowering him into the ground. I wonder if anyone’s crying, if my maw is there. I highly doubt it, she hated my father. And he didn’t have friends as far as I know, except the mates he made in prison. My guess is it’s one or two surviving drug pals and a minister who’s never met him. Something’s wedged between my ribs, growing sharper by the minute.
I’m not at my father’s funeral because I’d rather be anywhere else. Even here, about to be skinned alive by my new agent.
I force the knot lower.
The door opens, and Charlie breezes in, tablet tucked under her arm. No shouting or stomping. Only a calm, collected agent in her crisp white shirt and leather leggings.
‘Thanks for coming in, Finn. I take it you’re aware that we’ve got a bit of a situation.’
I slouch deeper. ‘Situation? I was more going with clusterfuck.’
Without blinking, she pushes her tablet across the desk. The headlines slap me in the face.
* * *
LENNOX IN THREE-WAY SHAME WITH TORY MP’S FIANCÉE
* * *
PINK-HAIRED FLANKER FACES RED CARD AFTER ALPINE ANTICS
* * *
DOUBLE SNOW JOB FOR SCOTTISH RUGBY STAR
