“The press, the fucking fans, the-the-everybody.”
“The Everybody does like to talk shit.”
I whirl around to face her, fury still coursing through me. “Youreally think people would say something like that? That anyone would even believe it?”
“Hey, darling, just a little reminder, I am actually onyourside, so let’s just take a deep breath.” She gives me a smile and shakes her head. “I think people are going to want to give him a free pass, because he’s a pretty man child with big blue eyes and dark hair from a family that has more money than the queen. Blaming you, when people know you’re not a big fan of the club, that’s easy. Means they can still like him when he comes back.”
The truth of her words settles into my gut. “I’ve really set myself up for this, haven’t I?”
“Being in the public eye sets you up for everything, unfortunately.”
I slump into the stool next to her with a sigh. “Fucking hell.”
“Listen, I think Dom’s probably not wrong.” Char reaches over to take my hand. “If you show support to the club, and to the family, it puts you on the side of the fans. It makes Archie look like a right twat, and that means it’ll be harder for him when he gets back. Because people do like you, even if they call you the Northern Nightmare.”
“I do like the idea of his life being harder,” I mumble, and Char laughs.
“I thought you might.” She meets my eyes with a smile. “Listen, babes, this is all going to get a lot messier before it gets better, and having people on your side is going to help.”
“You mean when I divorce him?”
“If that’s what you decide to do, yeah.” Char reaches out to stroke a hand over my head. “I love you, you know? And I love that you’re this fierce independent badass who tells big men like Dominic Graves to fuck off. But right now, you have a chance to look like the most slighted princess in the history of the Premier League, and make that work to your advantage. Fuck ArchieGraves and his little slag, whoever she is. Make his downfall your success.”
I nod slowly, taking another sip of wine. “Yeah. I like that.”
Char gives me another one of her dazzling smiles. “And cosy right on up to your father-in-law. Make them believe it. Because you know everyone bloody loves him.”
4
DOMINIC
“How we doing, Priest?”
The young man nods, raking his hair together into a bun at the back of his head. “Fair to middling, I’d say.” Jordan looks at me with an expression of grim determination. “Can’t say I haven’t said my prayers fourteen times over.”
I clap a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I believe in you lot, I do. Salford’s coming into this on a loss.”
“And so are we,” Jordan replies. “Two, in fact.”
I exhale heavily. “I know. But you’ve got this, alright?”
“Yeah?”
“Of course you do!” The deep, cheerful voice sounds from the other side of the locker room, and Nnamdi Adedayo smiles over at us. “You just have to believe, Priest. And we all do.”
The men around us nod and show fists and thumbs up to Jordan, whose face breaks into a smile.
“Well then, I guess we’ll see.” Jordan looks over at Ezra Martin, our goalie, and raises his eyebrows. “You ready for them? They’re hungry for it.”
Ezra nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m hungrier. Nothing’s getting past me tonight.”
“Right then.” Jordan looks back at me, squaring his shoulders. “I won’t let you down, sir.”
“I know you won’t.” I shake his hand, and head out of the locker room. “Give ‘em hell, lads!” I call, clapping my hands, and am met with whoops and cheers from the team.
They sing the team anthem as I make my way down the hall to the stairs. I want to watch the game from the benches, but I have corporate sponsors in the stands and need to attend to that duty tonight. I huff out a breath as I pass the door to the field. Sometimes I wonder how much I’m cut out for the corporate side of this venture.
The stadium is packed, everyone anticipating a victory after our last loss. The boxes are full of men in suits and women in expensive fur coats, sipping champagne and barely casting a glance down at the field below.
