Authors: Michelle Betham
‘Yeah, but I’m still pretty new to all this. I didn’t have anything like the level of publicity I’m getting here in the U.K. over in the States. It’s a whole different game over there, and this – this is just crazy sometimes.’
‘Tell me about it.’
He smiled at her, a smile so like his father’s it sent Amber’s heart skipping beats all over the place. ‘You made me feel, I dunno… comfortable. You know all about the way this works, the way this should be done – that’s why I want to say thank you.’
She looked at him again, all handsome and young and just starting out on this – as he’d so rightly put it – crazy journey. ‘You’re very welcome.’
She started walking out of the studio, and he fell into step beside her, his hands in his pockets. ‘Look, I know this is probably none of my business, but… you and my dad. Is… is everything okay? Only, I know he kept my existence from you for…’
She stopped walking and turned to look at him. ‘You’re right, Brandon. It
is
none of your business.’ She hung her head, closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh before looking back up at him. ‘I’m sorry. I suppose it
is
your business really, isn’t it?’
He smiled at her again, and she couldn’t help but notice the way that smile lit up his handsome face. Just like his dad’s smile did. ‘Listen, you can say no, but do you fancy joining me for a drink? I mean, it wouldn’t be a bad thing if we tried to get to know one another a little better, would it? Away from any TV cameras.’
She hesitated for a second, trying to answer that question for herself. Would it be a bad thing? How
could
it be a bad thing? Pretending he didn’t exist wasn’t going to work, so what other option did she have, when she was married to his dad?
‘Yeah. Okay. I guess one won’t hurt.’
Ten minutes and a small-talk-filled walk later they were ensconced in a fairly quiet corner of the bar within the purpose-built studios at Cloud Sports.
‘When your dad asked you to keep your family connection a secret, were you happy about that?’ Amber looked straight into Brandon’s eyes, watching to see if there was a flicker of something that told her he was covering for Jim, telling her what he thought she wanted to hear rather than what he really felt.
‘No. I wasn’t.’
It seemed as though Brandon was quite happy to let his real feelings be known.
‘But…’ Brandon shrugged, sitting back and taking a small swig from his bottle of beer. ‘Well, nobody back home really knows who my dad is anyway. A few people in the soccer world know of him, and I know one of the big L.A.-based clubs even asked him to come over and be their manager a few years back, but he turned their offer down.’
‘Did that bother you?’
Brandon looked at her. ‘You’re very direct.’
‘I just ask straight questions. It’s my job. You don’t have to answer them.’
He said nothing for a second, just continued to look at her, his eyes never leaving hers until she looked away, down at the table. ‘Yeah. At the time it
did
bother me. I was fourteen years old, and the thought that my dad might actually come home was…’ It was his turn to look down at the table. ‘I missed him, that’s all. Missed having him around. He did what he could, came over for visits whenever his job allowed, but he made it clear the U.K. was his home.’
‘But you would have liked him to come back to America?’
He looked at her again. ‘Of course. No doubt about it. But, thinking back, that was never gonna happen. When he was approached by the L.A. team he was managing a big club in London, winning silverware regularly, bagging manager of the month awards like they were going out of fashion. He was never gonna give that up to come back home and manage a team that may well be big on the West Coast of America, but they’re practically unknown everywhere else.’ His eyes met hers again. ‘And, from what he’s told me recently, he was never gonna give up
you
.’
Amber felt slightly uncomfortable and she looked away again, focusing on a group of her new work colleagues over at the bar. ‘For a lot of years me and your dad were never really together,’ she said quietly, shifting her focus back to Brandon just as Ronnie walked in. ‘So I had nothing to do with any decisions he made back then.’
‘No. I guess you didn’t.’
‘Why did you do it, Brandon? Why did you agree to keep your connection a secret?’
He shrugged, taking another sip of beer. ‘I don’t know, and that’s the honest truth. I suppose I had my own life over in New York, I had a career that had nothing to do with my dad, so there was no need to bring him into it. And me and my mom, we had a good life. She made sure I didn’t want for anything; she made sure that me not having my real dad around all the time wasn’t the worst thing in the world. I had – I
have
a great stepdad. He’s been there for me for most of my life, and he’ll continue to be there for me. I’ll always love him like a father. Always.’
Amber paused for a second before asking another question. ‘You joining Wearside Spartans – was there some method in your madness there?’
He looked at her, frowning slightly.
‘Did you deliberately choose to play for a North East club because you wanted to be closer to Jim?’
He laughed a small, low laugh. ‘You really can’t switch that reporter mode off sometimes, can you?’
She smiled, finally taking a swig of her own beer. ‘I’m just curious, that’s all. You had clubs much bigger than Spartans putting in bids for you, but most of those were down here in London. And, let’s face it, most young players from abroad like the idea of playing for one of the big London clubs. I know you turned two of those clubs down. So I can only assume that your decision to play for a northern club was because you wanted to be nearer to your dad.’
‘You got me. Yeah, that’s the reason.’ He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his hands clasped in front of him. ‘For all those years I never really knew him, Amber. Growing up, he was never really there. And that wasn’t his fault, I know he did his best, but I missed having my dad around. And then along came this chance to move over to the U.K., to play the game I love in the same country as my father. It felt like, I dunno, fate, or something. It felt like I finally had a chance – a real chance – to get to know him. To tell the world where I got this talent from, to let them all know who my father is. And it’s something I need to do. For me. It wasn’t my fault he chose to keep me a secret from you. I had no idea of your past with my dad, Amber, believe me. I had no idea, because, if I had…’
‘It’s okay. Really. None of this is your fault, and I completely understand everything you’ve just told me. My dad is the most important person in my life, and if I didn’t have him around…’ She looked up into Brandon’s piercing green eyes. Eyes that reminded her so much of a young Jim. Eyes that, once again, sparked a myriad of memories. ‘He should be very, very proud of you, Brandon. Very proud.’
He smiled, reaching out to quickly squeeze her hand. ‘My dad’s one very lucky guy.’
She looked down at her wedding ring, twisting it round her finger.
‘Amber?’
She looked up, still twisting her wedding ring round and round.
‘Tell me to mind my own business, but I don’t think I’m the only problem between you and my dad right now, am I?’
‘You’re not a problem, Brandon. The fact Jim kept you a secret from me is the problem, but…’
‘There’s something else, isn’t there?’
She took another quick sip of beer before hurriedly gathering her things together. This get-to-know-you drink had been very nice but she really needed to leave now. ‘I should be going. I’ve got a long day at the studio tomorrow.’
He gently put a hand over her wrist, stopping her from getting up. ‘This is complicated, Amber, I know that. And I know how confusing it must be…’
‘For a man so young you’re extremely perceptive, aren’t you?’
‘I had to grow up fast, believe me.’
She sat back down, closing her eyes for a second, letting out another deep sigh. ‘Things
are
complicated, Brandon. And they’re complicated for a number of reasons. Everything just seems to be happening all at once and… Look, we’ll work it out, me and your dad. It’s just really hard at the minute, given how busy we both are and the jobs we do. We don’t seem to get all that much time together these days.’
‘He loves you, Amber.’
‘You know that, do you? I mean, you’ve been here all of five minutes and you think you know the way his mind works?’
‘My dad can be quite transparent when he wants to be. It’s a weakness he never displays in a professional capacity, but you take him out of the dressing room and he just can’t seem to help himself.’
‘I know he loves me,’ Amber sighed, her eyes catching Ronnie’s over at the bar. ‘And I love him, too. So we’ll work it out. Eventually.’
Brandon frowned. ‘There
is
something else, isn’t there?’
She looked at him. ‘Yeah. There is. But it’s between me and your dad, okay? It’s nothing for you to worry about. You just concentrate on Saturday’s game. Do your job. Billy’s putting a lot of faith in you to go out there and start scoring, and you’re playing for a North East team now, so take it from one who grew up around North East football – those fans will be expecting a lot from you, too. Let them down and you’ll know about it.’
He gave her another smile. ‘I don’t intend to let anyone down.’
She smiled back. ‘Make sure you don’t. I’ll speak to you soon, okay?’
‘Okay. And, thanks again, Amber. I mean that.’
She gave him one more smile before making her way out of the bar. All she wanted to do now was curl up in bed with a glass of wine and something rubbish and mind-numbing on the TV. But someone else had other ideas.
‘What was all that about?’
She turned to look at Ronnie as she continued to walk towards her car. ‘What was all what about?’
‘You and Brandon Palmer?’
‘We were just talking. I told you, it’s about time I started to get to know my stepson. And you have no idea how weird it sounds saying that.’
‘Are you okay?’
She finally reached her car, stopping to look at Ronnie properly. ‘I’m fine. Why?’
‘Amber, come on. These past few days have been nothing short of crazy…’
‘Yeah, they have. But I’m dealing with them, in my own way.’
‘Really?’
She looked at him over the roof of her car. ‘Do you want a lift?’
He just looked at her, raising his eyebrows. ‘Seriously?’
‘What?’
‘You’re doing it again. Pretending your head isn’t all over the place and putting this cold front up that just pushes everyone away. Well, those closest to you, anyway.’
‘Do you want this lift or not?’
‘Jesus, you frustrate the hell out of me sometimes!’
‘Just get in.’
He slid into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut as Amber started the engine.
‘Do you want to come back to mine?’ she asked, reversing slowly out of her reserved space in the Cloud Sports car park. ‘For a nightcap. I’ve only had a couple of sips of beer, seeing as I’m driving, and I could really do with an alcohol hit.’
‘You’re not the only one,’ Ronnie muttered. ‘How any man puts up with you is beyond me.’
She looked at him out the corner of her eye, smiling slightly but saying nothing.
‘See what I mean?’ he said, but he couldn’t help laughing. ‘I’m going to make you call Jim in the morning.’
‘Yeah, we’ll see how that works out then, shall we?’
‘You hungry?’
‘Starving.’
‘We’ll get some Chinese on the way home, help soak up that nightcap. What do you say?’
‘Good idea. And you’re paying.’
It felt like old times as Ryan lay back and listened to the sound of the shower coming from the en-suite, imagining Paula’s deliciously naked body stepping under the water as she soaped herself all over. He could feel his hard-on reappearing already, but he wasn’t in the mood to go solo. Not when he had a beautiful woman on hand to take care of all that. He’d wait until she was out of the shower, then he’d make sure she got down and dirty all over again. Jesus, sometimes he loved his old life so much.
The Goldman had come up trumps once again, giving him one of their best rooms, and the kind of service they reserved especially for those who tipped generously. And Ryan was having one hell of a night.
Just like old times
, Gary had said. It certainly was! It was a night Ryan was in no hurry to see end, despite training starting at 7a.m. the next day. He’d be fine. He could do this shit and still be there on the training pitch kicking balls like the professional he was. He was Ryan Fisher, wasn’t he? Nobody could do this crap like he could.
Smiling to himself, he flicked on the TV and immediately turned to the Cloud Sports News Channel. He liked to catch
Scoreline
whenever he could. Keeping up with what was happening in the football world was something he enjoyed, especially at the minute with the transfer window still yet to close, and anyway, there might be something happening out there that could be useful to know.
Settling back against the ridiculously over-stuffed but unbelievably comfortable pillows, he watched as the commercial break finished and
Scoreline
started. But the second he saw her, sitting there on the familiar cobalt-blue sofa that graced the
Scoreline
studio set, looking hot and crazy-beautiful in skinny jeans and a black open-necked shirt, her red hair falling loosely over her shoulders, he felt his stomach dip. That all-too-familiar feeling that always crept up on him whenever he saw her. He just hadn’t expected to see her tonight, there on the TV. He hadn’t expected that. Sometimes he forgot she wasn’t Amber Sullivan – local news reporter – anymore. Sometimes he forgot she was now Amber Allen – sports presenter, TV celebrity, and wife of one of the country’s top football managers.
Grabbing the remote, he quickly switched to a rolling news channel, sitting up and pulling his knees to his chest, hanging his head in his hands. Already he could feel the beginnings of a dull ache behind his eyes, his head spinning. He’d come here tonight to escape all of this, yet here it was, right there with him. Because there
was
no escape. Not here. He’d tried to kid himself he could do it, that it was all getting better, that he was coping. But he wasn’t. And he knew that, now.