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A muscle worked in Gabe’s jaw. “Miri. I apologize. Is there somewhere we can talk in private?”
He shook my hand firmly. A warming spark crept up my wrist from his touch. My heart hammered, which only served to annoy me. If I was going to get starstruck by anyone, it should be a celebrity who was famous for something important like curing cancer or hashing out some Middle East peace agreement—not for being so hot he could get away with murder. This guy might have been an A-list celebrity, but he was also a grade-A prick.
His glance was bemused. “Are you okay?”
I cleared my throat and tried to steady my racing heartbeat. “Fine.”
“I’m taking you to lunch.”
What? I glanced at my watch. No. Soon it would be visiting hours at the hospital. The guy holding the camera stepped closer. The back of my neck itched with embarrassment. Was this going to be on TV? I swiped my brow with the back of one hand and smoothed my ponytail with the other. Why were they filming me? I couldn’t just stand around here feeling stupid. At this rate, I’d have to skip a shower and run to the hospital to see Mum.
I blurted the first words that came into my head. “I need to go to the hospital.”
His dark brow rose a fraction. “Why? Are you unwell? Is something wrong?”
“No. Thank you … No … Not with me … No … Look. This has been …”Awkward.“But I have to go.”
He stared back at me. He had extraordinary green eyes, flecked and ringed with gold. My pulse pounded. I set off, desperate to put some distance between us and to stop this sudden strange disconnect between my brain and my mouth. I didn’t get flustered. I’d taken penalties that could win or lose the match in front of huge crowds. This wasn’t me.
Gabe matched my strides. “I want you.”
My neck heated. “What?”
“For the club. I’m the new director of Calverdale Ladies.”
I froze. “You are? Since when?”
“Since about half an hour ago, and you thrashed us. I want you as our new striker. You’re my first order of business.”
Not this again. How many times did I have to tell Claire Easterly no? I wouldn’t sign with Calverdale if it was the last club on earth. Claire and the cameraman caught up to us. Another guy held a microphone on a long stick, angling it right under my nose. A knot of nerves tightened in my stomach. Was I about to be in some crummy reality show? That’s what this was. Gabe Rivers couldn’t seriously care about women’s football. It had to be a gimmick.
“I’m not interested,” I said.
“Why not?”
I held Claire’s gaze. She knew why. Everybody at that team turned a blind eye to Jerry Reynolds’s behavior, but I couldn’t. I had no time to go into it all now.
I threw my hands up with impatience. “Because … reasons.”
A line appeared between Gabe’s brows. He smiled blandly. “You have to give me a reason.”
I couldn’t help my incredulous snort. Do I, now?
“I want you on my team. Name your price.”
“It’s not about money.”
“Everything is about money.”
“Maybe for people like you.”
There was a faint glint of humor in his eyes. Was he laughing at me?
“You need to give me something to work with. Tell me the problem.”
A prickle of annoyance made me straighten my spine. He might have been hotter than hell, but entitlement and privilege oozed from every pore of this man’s being. “I don’tneedto give you anything.”
I kept walking. Gabe dodged in front of me, towering over me, blocking my path. His charming smile lit his handsome face. “We’ve got off on the wrong foot. Let me take you for lunch. We can talk about whatever the issue is.”
