“We’re going to see each other often,” Mitch interrupted.
Liana turned to look at Mitch. “We’ve already tried.”
“We’re going to see each other often,” Mitch repeated, his voice firm. “This is important. We’ll make it work.”
“And when Mitch Molloy says something will happen, it usually does,” Connor said.
“If only I had that power, mate. But thank you. Now, I hope you two will excuse me—us. I’m taking my girlfriend home. It’s been three weeks, and we have a lot of, uh, catching up to do. I won’t be at training tomorrow, Connor. Don’t phone.”
And with that Mitch unceremoniously pulled Liana off her chair and threw her over his shoulder.
“Mitch! Put me down!”
He would have been booked for speeding if he had been caught. They barely spoke in the car. Liana kept her hand on his thigh, wanting and needing to have some form of physical contact with him. When he pulled into his driveway, they both ran to the front door, laughing. They knew there could be no winner without the other.
“Mitch—wait—my suitcase.”
“You’re not going to need it.”
“Mitch—all my work is in there. Let me get it.”
Mitch had already unlocked the door. He sighed but pushed it open. “No, I’ll get it.”
Liana walked into the house. She smiled widely. Unlike her first impression of the condo at the Meriton, she could see this was where Mitch called home. He had kept what looked like the original wood floors. She didn’t blame him; they were rich in color and interesting in the complexity of their grains. The walls were painted in different tones of gray, highlighting an old, brick fireplace that was whitewashed. Short bookshelves on either side of the fireplace were filled haphazardly with books, framed photos, and more books. Above one of the bookshelves was a shadow box displaying an All Blacks shirt; above the other was an oil painting of a farm. A CD player and a turntable were in the corner, flanked by a guitar stand. An antique rocking chair complimented the brown sofa set. It was a well-used room, noted Liana with satisfaction. No designer had a hand here; this was all Mitch.
Liana walked deeper into the house, surprised at how much more space there was. She found a larger room that was informally divided into the TV and dining areas. From there, she walked through an updated kitchen with large windows that overlooked the backyard. A side door took Liana outside.
She was admiring the depth of the backyard when Mitch came up behind her. She welcomed his arms around her, automatically leaning back into his body. He nuzzled her neck. “What do you think of the house?” he asked.
“I love it.”
“Let me show you the bedrooms.”
Liana laughed. She turned and went up on her toes to kiss Mitch. “You—Mr. Molloy—have only one thing on your mind.”
“Damn right.”
“Oh good. So, what are you waiting for? Show me the bedrooms.”
* * *
They stayed home all the next day.
But Liana insisted Mitch keep his commitment to Connor the day after, arguing she needed to finish several reports. A few minutes after an unhurried kiss that ensured Mitch was going to be late, she pulled out her laptop, settled on the dining table and began to work. Despite the temptation to go through his book and music collection, to see the part of Mitch the rest of the world couldn’t, Liana felt settled. This was right. She didn’t have to try to feel comfortable. She could fit in his house.
She was later glad that she resisted exploring his bookshelves by herself. It was more fun having him talk about his choices of music and literature; each book or album had a significant memory attached to it—a person or to an event. Liana found several “Impulse” CDs and couldn’t resist taking pictures to send to Veronica, much to Mitch’s embarrassment. They sat on the rug and listened to Mitch’s first “Crowded House” CD, a glass of wine in her hand and a bottle of beer in his. Their absentminded caresses slowly became more intentional—and urgent. The sounds of their uneven breathing—moans, sighs, whispers—eventually replaced the music when the CD ended.
She woke up hearing the steady beating of his heart. He was running his fingers through her hair gently.
“How long have you been up?” She traced a path from his collarbone to his chest.
“A couple of hours now.”
“Something bothering you?”
Mitch’s chest raised and fell as he chuckled. “No, I just didn’t want to miss a moment of holding you in my arms.”
Liana groaned. “You’re doing it again.”
“What?”
“Being impossible not to love.”
Mitch turned over suddenly. Liana was now pinned under him, comfortable but held firmly. His head was just over hers, his arms on either side of her head; he looked deep into her eyes.
“One of the first things I learned about being famous is that I can’t control what other people think. All I can do is know what I think and what I feel,” Mitch said. “So, Liana Erin Murphy, listen well. I love you as I’ve never loved another woman before. Never.”
“Mitch...”
He put a finger on her mouth to silence her. She frowned, and he didn’t bother to hide his amusement that she found his action disagreeable.
“As I was saying, get used to me telling you how I feel about you. They’ll be words I won’t say to anyone else. Only to you. Okay?” He moved his finger, laughter still in his eyes.
“Okay. I got it. But don’t you do that again, Mitch Molloy. Or...”
“Or?” His voice was now suggestive. His eyes darkened and he moved slightly. Liana inhaled sharply. His body changed, and hers reacted automatically.
She licked her lips. “Or, I’ll bite.”
His eyes narrowed and returned his finger to her mouth. “Go ahead... bite.”
* * *
Mitch didn’t bother explaining to Connor why he was half an hour late. He wasn’t a liar, and he wasn’t sorry. He pushed himself, and, at the end of their two hours, Mitch was satisfied to see Connor sweating as hard as he was.
“Mate, what the hell did you do in America? I’ve never seen you so fit during the off-season,” Connor said as he wiped his face with a towel.
“I had a lot of downtime while Liana worked. I best be off. Same time tomorrow?”
“I know this won’t make a difference to how you feel about her, but both Cat and I think the two of you being together, well, that’s just great. You look happy.”
“I am. I really am.”
“Why the rush this morning?”
“Have to get to the shops. Mum, Dad, and Tim are coming over for dinner, and I’m cooking.”
Connor blinked. “Did you lose a bet or something?”
“I’m not a bad cook. Why does everyone think I can’t cook?”
“No, you’re not a bad cook. But you’re not fantastic at it either. You’ve never cooked for me.”
“You’re married to Cat. I’m not stupid enough to try to compete with her cooking.”
Connor acknowledged the truth in that statement with a shrug. “You’re introducing her to the parents already, eh? Going quick, aren’t you? I think you were dating Elaine for three months before she met your mum and dad.”
“Feels like the right thing to do. And Liana needs to be back in Auckland by Monday for a meeting.”
Connor put his arm around Mitch’s shoulder. “I like seeing you like this. You’re cooking; you’re talking about your feelings. Now if we can only get you to start showing up for trainings on time.”
Mitch found himself humming while he shopped. He stopped to sign two autographs for young fans and to take a photo with an elderly woman. He never said no to the youngest or the oldest of his fans. He politely refused everyone in the middle, but he also didn’t make a fuss if they took photos from a distance. It was the nature of his life.
When Mitch returned home, he found Liana seated at the dining table—two laptops now open. One was playing a vide
o of a match—two teams in the Australian league? —while she typed on the other one. He leaned over to kiss her and noticed she was creating a questionnaire.
“What’s that?”
“Oh, I send out questions to the men every week, to test if they’re paying attention.”
“On what? On how the Australians are playing?”
Liana shook her head, her eyes on the still-playing video. “No, on each other.”
“You’ve lost me.”
“My questions are about their teammates. Right until we leave for Brazil, their main task is to know how well each other is playing. They need to know each other’s stats, who is ‘hot’ and who isn’t. They need to know who scored in their last match and from what position: was it from the left, from the center, from the right, etcetera.”
“Most people study their opponents.”
“They do that too, but I want them to know how to use each other’s strengths and weaknesses against any team. Since we can’t practice with each other on a regular basis, the next best thing is to study one another.”
Mitch stopped unpacking the shopping and stared at the back of Liana’s head. He shook his own. “Genius,” he muttered.
Liana didn’t hear him, so fully concentrated was she on her work. She finally looked up when the smell of onions wafted through the house. She stretched, rolled her shoulders a little then shut off the computers.
“Want some help?” Liana moved into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around Mitch’s waist from behind. She laid her head against his back.
“I’m good right now. I just need to pop this in the oven, and I can start on the salad later. Do you need to get out for a run or something? You’ve been working hard.”
“No, I did some yoga this morning. I’ll start on the harder cardio next week when I’m back in Auckland. What are you making?”
“Coq au vin.”
Liana released her embrace to move next to Mitch, who snuck his arm around her shoulder. With the other hand, he offered her a sliced carrot.
“Really? Coq au vin? Why was it when we were at the Meriton, the best you came up with was pasta?” Liana asked.
“One—my little complainer—is that we were on a strict diet. Two—you usually had dinner going when I got back.”
“You also pronounced that with a great accent. Do you speak French?”
“Mais oui. J’ai appris la langue, alors que je vivais en France.”
“When did you live in France?”
“In my early twenties. I did a short contract with one of the teams. Made me realize that there was no place like home. You speak it, I presume.”
“Yes. And Spanish, German, and Italian, and, because my grandfather insisted on it—Gaelic. My Russian is passable, but I wouldn’t do an interview in it.”
Mitch smiled. “I don’t even want to know how you had time to learn all that.”
Liana picked up another carrot slice. “Lots of time on buses, planes—you name it. Just pop in a CD, and I pick it up.”
“Steve was right: you are a freak,” Mitch said before kissing her quickly. “But you’re my freak.”
“Are you sure your parents are all right with me being here?”
“Of course. And they’re going to love you. I can’t imagine anyone not falling under your spell when they meet you,” Mitch said, tightening his arms around her waist.
“The countess wasn’t very keen on me,” she said.
“Why?”
Liana rested her hands on his chest. “Let’s just say Sebastian’s family can trace their lineage for centuries.” She looked up at Mitch. “I’m the granddaughter of Indian immigrants. My father never went to university. Not quite the bloodline Sebastian’s family was used to.”
“That shouldn’t matter.”
“You’re right. It shouldn’t.”
Mitch’s coq au vin was a hit. Judging from the Molloys’ reactions, no one was expecting it. Even Timothy looked confused, asking several times which caterer Mitch had used.
Helen led most of the dinner conversation, asking questions about Liana’s work and sharing anecdotes of life on the South Island. His dad was equally impressive, being more verbose than usual. At one point, Paul offered his opinion about the local football, a sport he never cared about previously. Timothy shot his older brother with a look of disbelief. His parents were obviously trying to impress his superstar-girlfriend. He snuck a peek at Liana. Her eyes sparkled as she laughed at his father’s uncharacteristic attempt at humor. He could trust those eyes.
“Do you feel comfortable living here, Liana?” Helen asked.
“I’m beginning to. I have to say work is my primary gauge of whether I’m settling in or not. And right now, it feels like things are falling into place.”
“You sound just like Mitch,” Timothy observed. “Work, work, work.”
Liana laughed. “Yes. But I do love my work. It’s challenging and exciting. Football is all I’ve ever known.”
* * *
Two days later, Liana packed while Mitch prepared lunch. She went into the bathroom to gather the last of her toiletries. Catching her image in the mirror, she studied it. Her face looked the same, but her life was completely different. Would anyone who saw her today know she was now genuinely in love for the first time? She reached for her toothbrush but impulsively decided to leave it. She’d be back. She walked out of the bathroom and a sudden wave of emotion—was it fear? —overwhelmed her. She’d never left her toothbrush at anyone’s house before. Not even at Mark’s. She returned to the bathroom.
Mitch appeared at the door. “Are you ready to eat?”
Liana nodded and reached for her suitcase. Mitch closed the gap between them in two quick strides and placed his hand on hers. “Hey, let me.”
“You know I carry my own things.”
“Yes, but let me.” He looked down at the toothbrush in Liana’s other hand.
“I almost left it,” she said, weakly.
“You might as well.” He looked into her eyes. “Don’t.”
“What?”
“Panic. Trust what we feel for each other, Liana. I know we’re back in our real lives. The world’s going to know about us soon. We can do this. We love each other. We can make this work.”
“I’ve never panicked about being in a relationship before. I’m not sure why I’m so nervous about—you know—everyone knowing.”
Mitch smiled. He cupped Liana’s face and kissed her gently. “Because it matters. Because it’s special. I’m not nervous about us, but this is my country, my home. I have a better insight into how things work here. We’ll be fine. I promise. We’ve organized our schedules. I’ll fly up next week. And we’ll do normal things: dinner, maybe a movie, and whatever else couples do together. Right?”
“Right.”
“And, baby girl? Leave the damn toothbrush here.”
* * *
Photographs of Mitch and Liana at the airport made the gossip news later that night. Cat phoned Mitch right away and squealed. Ten minutes later, he received an email from Felicity with an unfamiliar photo of him and Liana attached. Seconds after he opened the email, Felicity phoned. “They photoshopped Liana’s face onto my body!”
A week later, Mitch arrived in Auckland for an interview on a radio sports show. He received his first official question about Liana and confirmed that they were seeing each other. He was pressed for details, but after fifteen years in the public eye, he knew how to answer any awkward questions without seeming too defensive.
As Mitch drove from Auckland to New Harbor, he listened to the post-interview calls. He gave the radio hosts credit for trying to steer the conversation to sports, but the callers were definitely interested in his relationship with Liana.
New Zealand’s most-famous sporting hero was dating England’s most-famous female football figure; people were intrigued.
When Mitch entered the offices of FANZ, he felt a little out of place. He had never been in this part of New Harbor
. He looked around. Other than Liana, the sporting images framed and hung on the large wall were not of anyone he knew personally.
He walked up to the receptionist whose wide eyes told him that she knew who he was.
“Hello, Mr. Molloy. How may I help you?”
“I’m here to see Liana Murphy.”
“Do you have an appointment, sir?”
Mitch wasn’t expecting that question. He shook his head. “No. Well, not an official one. I was supposed to pick her up for lunch.”
Anne nodded. “I’ll give her assistant a ring then. Would you mind waiting over there, sir?”
* * *
And that’s where Liana found the former captain of the rugby world champions, sitting in the corner of the waiting room with a football magazine in his hand.
She grinned. “Bet this was a new experience for you.”
“I’ve waited for people before.”
“Who was the last person you had to wait for?”
Mitch paused in thought, then answered sheepishly. “The Queen.”
Liana’s laughter echoed through the hallway as she led him to her office.
“Well, since you are here, let me introduce you to the people I work with. It’s an unusual week, with nearly everyone onsite.”
Liana knew that Mitch would’ve already met some of the senior members of FANZ, like the president and CEO. She wasn’t surprised to see excited faces or over-enthusiastic handshakes. Mrs. Roberts, in particular, was beside herself. Usually self-assured, her hands were visibly shaking when Mitch took them to thank her for making sure Liana got the biscuits he had ordered for her first day at work.
“When the Club comes up to play in Auckland, let Liana know. We’ll save you a special seat, and I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team,” Mitch said.
Liana thought Mrs. Roberts was going to faint right there and then.
They managed to catch Phil before he left for a meeting. His jaw dropped, and Liana read an expletive on his lips when he saw whom she was bringing into his office.
“Mr. Molloy, it’s an honor. My family’s a big fan of yours,” he said. “My mum, sisters, and I were in Eden Park the night of the Final. We couldn’t stop crying.”
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