“Personalities,” I say, swirling my wine. “Who arrives early, who coasts in late. Who talks too much, and who doesn’t talk at all. That kind of thing.”
Luke smirks. “Let me guess—Oliver doesn’t talk at all.”
“Ding ding ding,” I mutter. “He acts like I’m a Dementor, ready to suck the soul out of the team.”
“Nice,” Pippa says, laughing at myHarry Potterreference. “He’ll come around.”
“He just doesn’t like change,” Luke assures me.
“Or people,” I mutter, and they both laugh. “He’s a complete ass.”
Pippa winces in sympathy. “Did something else happen? Besides the fake directions?”
“Yeah. At training the other day, I was trying to be professional. I figured I’d be friendly, maybe extend an olive branch his way, you know, like a normal functioning adult. But he went full teenager tantrum on me.” I mimic his voice, dropping it an octave and adding enough of a brooding accent to make my point. “What do you want from me? You want me to roll out the red carpet for you?I’m a footballer.” I roll my eyes and huff out a laugh. “I swear, he’s impossible.”
“Speaking of training and prep,” Luke says, leaning forward. “Are you coming to the match on Saturday?”
I shake my head immediately. “I planned to stay upstairs in the offices. I can get updates remotely as I focus on managing the press.”
Pippa raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“I’ve seen them in training. I just don’t think they need me pitch-side.”
“As much as I appreciate that you’re finally saying ‘match’ and ‘pitch,’ you’re wrong,” Luke says, shaking his head.
“But you haven’t seen them play live,” Pippa says. “There’s a big difference.”
Luke sets his beer down on the table. “You can’t just work behind the scenes and expect the lads to come to you, Ads. You’ve got to see what it means to be part of this club.”
Pippa leans forward, smiling at me. “You can sit with me. Get down in the trenches. It’s fun, I promise you. Everyone singing horribly, chanting together. I think you’ll get a good feel for the pulse of the supporters, you know? That’s valuable insight for PR, right?”
I pause, because I know she’s right, but I don’t want to admit it. “I’ll, uh… I’ll think about it.”
Luke exchanges a grin with Pippa. “Addison translation: she’ll turn up, sit stiff as a board for ninety minutes, and pretend not to enjoy herself.”
I shake my head, but I’m smiling. “I said I’ll think about it.”
But somewhere deep down, I already know I’m going.
By the time Carlos strolls into my office, I’ve burned through two cups of coffee and demolished a bacon wrap that I bought on my way in this morning. I’ve scheduled each player to have an initial one-on-one meeting with me, so I can understand what they’re passionate about off the pitch and how I can help them beyond the game.
Carlos sits in the chair across from my desk like he owns the office, and that chair is his throne. His legs are spread far apart, his armsdraped over the chair, and his sunglasses are still on even though we’re indoors.
“I just want to know what matters to you, Carlos,” I say, flipping to the next page in my notepad.
“Winning. Women,” he says with a smirk. “Preferably at the same time.”
“Not that.” I fix him with a pointed look. “What do you want to support? Or build? You have a platform, Carlos. What do you want to do with it?”
To his credit, he softens. He drops the superstar act. He pulls the sunglasses off, which is a bigger gesture than it seems. “I have a football camp,” he says. “Back home in Spain. I hold it every summer. For kids. It gives them training, mentorship, and one good meal a day. It’s free for them, but if you could help find sponsors to help fund it, we could bring in even more kids.”
I nod, genuinely impressed. “Absolutely, Carlos. I’d love to help you with this.” An agitator with a secret heart of gold? I candefinitelywork with that. “We can build a campaign around it—really highlight the local impact and pitch it to brands with youth initiatives.”
Carlos smiles, not his usual cocky smirk, but a real one. “You know, you’re not that bad.”
“Don’t go spreading that,” I mutter, mostly amused.
He gets up and heads out of the office. I glance down at my sheet to check which player is next. Oliver.Great.
