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“Thanks for coming in today on such short notice.” Glevum FC’s manager, aka the gaffer, aka Harvey Raines, steepled his fingers as he stared at me impassively from across the table. The overhead lights gleamed on his bald head, giving it a shine as if he’d polished it. He gave a slight nod to the left, and I swallowed, lowering myself into the indicated chair, and surreptitiously wiped my sweating palms on my perfectly pressed trousers. Next to me, Amir, my agent, sighed. He couldn’t even tell me what today’s emergency meeting was about.
Couldn’t…or wouldn’t. I shot him a suspicious look out of the corner of my eye, and he just sighed again, taking his own seat and busying himself with opening up his iPad, the keyboard lighting up as he input his password.
Returning my attention to Harvey, I folded my hands neatly in my lap and waited.
I didn’t have to wait long.
“As you know, Knowles sustained a hamstring injury against Liverpool last Saturday. Unfortunately, it’s worse than we anticipated. He’s going to be out for the rest of the season.”
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath before inwardly cursing myself. Years of being around football players meant that some of their bad habits had rubbed off on me. Still, I supposed swearing was one of the more harmless vices I’d adopted. I doubted my parents would agree, but then again…they’d have to take an interest in me in the first place to be in a position to agree or disagree. That was highly unlikely to happen, based on their track record ever since I’d diverted from their chosen path to become a professional footballer. It had been harmless when it was only a “hobby,” but to choose it as a career? It was unheard of in their circles. Not to mention the fact that I had chosen to play instead of attending a prestigious university. But in the world of professional football, most started young. While there were a select few who had been able to complete a degree alongside the rigorous training schedule that made up our day-to-day lives, for those in the English Premier League, they were few and far between.
“Indeed. Here’s where I find myself in a bind.” Harvey leaned forwards, planting his hands on the table. “I have the chance to sign another player in the January transfer window. His club doesn’t seem to realise what a talent they have on their hands, so it looks like we’ll be able to get him for a steal.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” I glanced over at Amir again, but he was tapping away on his iPad, studiously ignoring me, frowning at the screen through his chunky, black-framed glasses, with his mouth pulled into a thin line. I wasn’t going to get any help from my agent, that was for sure.
“It’s good…but it has repercussions for you.”
Wonderful.
“We’ll need to move you from the right-wing position to the left wing. He’s almost hopeless on the left. I’ve watched hours of footage and studied him in person, and it’s the only conclusion I can come to. By moving you to the left, Glevum FC have a good shot at finishing in the top ten of the table this season, maybe even higher. If we could actually get a shot at Europe…it would be unprecedented for the club. To achieve that as the manager…” Trailing off, Harvey shook his head with a small huff of laughter. “I’d be fulfilling a lifelong dream.”
“I don’t play on the left.” My words came out steady, but my hands were trembling beneath the table. There was a reason I was building up a reputation as a solid, dependable, talented right-winger.Because I was fucking good at it. And not only that, but I loved it.
Harvey exhaled heavily. “I know you don’t, but you and I both know you can. You’ve done it before when Knowles has been injured. You’re good, Lewin. Very good. I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t believe you were capable.”
I was actually going to have to do this, wasn’t I? It wasn’t as if I had any other choice.
Harvey was still speaking. “I’ve arranged for some additional training sessions to get you used to playing on the left. Once the transfer is complete, we’ll get you doing drills with Emery. He’s going to be thrown in at the deep end, coming to a Premier League team from League Two, and he won’t have much time to get used to the team before we need him out there on the pitch.”
Emery.Emery? No. No, no,no.
“Jordan Emery?” His name was ground out between gritted teeth, and my hands were no longer shaking with nerves but with rage.
Harvey smiled, the gold cap on his left incisor flashing at me. “That’s him. You were at CEFYA together, weren’t you? He doesn’t know anyone else on the team, as far as I’m aware, so I’m expecting you to be the one to show him the ropes.”
What was this hellhole my life had suddenly descended into?
Jordan fucking Emery. That brown-haired, grey-eyed, golden-skinned bane of my existence ever since we were thirteen years old was going to be my teammate? And even worse, to take my fucking place on the team? That was a hard-won position. A place that had cost me blood, sweat, and tears.
He thought he could usurp my position as Glevum FC’s right-winger?
Absolutely not.
2
JORDAN
“I’ve perused the offer and contracts, and I’ve had my guy check the paperwork over, as well as Glevum FC’s lawyers. Everything looks good, as far as we’re concerned. Are you ready to sign? The club won’t hold off forever.” Rory, my agent, rubbed his hand over his dark, neatly trimmed beard as he eyed me from across his desk. Picking up an expensive-looking silver fountain pen, he tapped the stack of papers in front of him.
“I want to. It’s just—”
“Jordan. I’m going to give you some tough love here because you need it.” Placing the pen down, he planted his hands on the wooden surface on either side of the paperwork, his dark gaze intent on mine. “Playing in the Premier League is your dream, and you should never lose sight of that. Signing for a top-flight team is something you and I have been working towards since you turned sixteen. You’re nineteen now, not too far off from turning twenty, and I’m telling you that it’s highly unlikely you’ll get another chance like this. Are you man enough to put your petty, childish differences with one person aside and act like the team player I know you are?”
Becoming Theodore Lewin’s teammate… Did I want that? Fuck, no, but Rory was right. I’d be a fucking fool to turn this opportunity down. This was my chance to play at elite level, for the team I loved. My dream football club wanted me.Me.
“Gimme the pen,” I muttered, and I was rewarded with a hint of a smile from my agent.
“Good boy.”
