‘Is it?’
‘Yeah.’
Amber sat forward, pushing her hands through her hair again. ‘I never said we were love’s young dream or anything.’
‘No. I know you didn’t.’
‘But, I needed him, you know? I was pregnant, going through a divorce,’ She trailed off, absent-mindedly looking at her naked left hand. She still couldn’t get used to not wearing her rings. Even though they’d only really been there for the shortest of times.
‘And now Rico’s here?’
‘Hmm? Sorry?’ She looked back at Ronnie.
‘Now that Rico’s here, do you still need him? Ryan, I mean.’
‘Of course I do.’
‘You paused for a second there.’
‘I didn’t.’
‘You did.’
‘Jesus. I’d forgotten how irritating you could be.’
‘He’s here, you know.’
She sighed again, throwing herself back against the couch. ‘Who?’ As if she didn’t know.
‘Manager of the Month, two months running.’
She eyed Ronnie with a look of something verging on suspicion. ‘Shouldn’t we be doing something other than sitting here?’
‘Probably. But I quite like watching you squirm.’
‘You’re such a bastard.’
He smiled, walking over to her and holding out his hand, pulling her up off the couch. ‘You need to sort out what you really want, Amber.’
‘I just want to get on with my life, Ronnie. As simple as that.’
‘There’s nothing simple when it comes to you getting on with your life, kiddo.’
‘Yeah. Thanks for reminding me. What about you, anyway? Any sign of a new romance on the cards?’
‘You’ve got to be kidding me! No time for any of that.’
She couldn’t help smiling as she looked at him, cocking her head slightly. ‘Surely you’ve got women falling at your feet, Ronnie White. Good-looking bloke like you. You’ve still got it, even at your age.’
‘Yeah, okay, enough with the smart remarks. Come on. We’ve got work to do.’
Work. The only thing that was keeping Amber’s mind off the one thing she couldn’t stop thinking about.
*
Jim Allen sat back in his chair, his eyes scanning the computer screen, but he was taking nothing in. His mind was on way too many other things, and for a man who was usually so focused and in control it was a feeling that didn’t sit well with him. But these past few months had been nothing short of crazy. Unpredictable. Painful.
A knock on his office door broke into his thoughts and he looked up from his laptop. ‘Come in.’
‘Hey, Dad!’
Jim smiled at the sight of his son. Brandon Palmer. Twenty-one years old, tall and handsome, and a player with the region’s rival top-flight team, Wearside Spartans.
‘Hey back. What you doing here? Spartans sent you over enemy lines to spy on what we’re up to before the big game?’
‘Well, if I’d wanted to do that I could have sneaked over to the training ground this morning, couldn’t I? No, I just came over to see how you’re doing.’
Jim eyed Brandon warily, smiling slightly as his son perched himself on the edge of his desk. ‘I’m doing just fine. Why wouldn’t I be?’
Brandon shrugged. ‘Dunno. You just seem to have been throwing yourself into your work a lot lately, that’s all.’
‘I’m the manager of a top-flight football club, Brandon. It isn’t exactly a nine-to-five kinda thing.’
‘You don’t take any time off.’
‘I don’t want to take any time off. Manager of the Month awards aren’t given out to just anybody, you know. You’ve got to put the work in.’
‘Is that all that matters to you?’
Jim narrowed his eyes as he looked at his son. ‘Have you come here for any particular reason, Brandon? Apart from to give me a headache I don’t need.’
‘I worry about you.’
‘Why?’
‘I mean, Ellen and me, we asked you over for dinner the other night and you refused to come. You won’t even take a night off to spend a bit of quality time with your own son.’
‘I’m fine, okay? I’ve just got a lot on.’
‘Yeah. You seem to have had a lot on for a while now.’
Jim fixed Brandon with a hard stare, which Brandon returned.
‘Ever since Amber became pregnant. Ever since she took up with Ryan Fisher. Again.’
‘She hasn’t “taken up” with Ryan Fisher, as you put it.’ Jim got up and walked over to the sideboard, pouring himself a small measure of whiskey.
‘So, you’re not bothered, then?’
‘About what?’
‘About Amber and Ryan.’
‘There is no Amber and Ryan.’
‘Oh, really?’
Jim turned around, leaning back against the sideboard, his eyes once more locking with Brandon’s. ‘Really.’
Brandon gave another shrug, sliding down from the desk and heading back towards the door, his hands in his pockets. ‘Okay. Whatever. Anyway, I just thought I’d drop by and say hi, see how you were. But you still look like the same old Jim Allen to me.’
Jim said nothing to that, he just took a sip of his drink and remained silent.
‘Look, Dad…’ Brandon turned around and faced his father. ‘Have you thought about getting out more? Maybe meeting someone else, you know, to take your mind off…’
‘I’ll see you later, Brandon.’
Brandon held up his hands as he turned to go. ‘I’m outta here.’
Jim waited until he’d closed the door behind him before he took the letter from his inside jacket pocket, opening it up and reading it through. One more piece of proof. Another piece of a jigsaw he’d been trying to put together. But he had all he needed now. The ball was very much in his court. And it was up to him whether he chose to hit out or not.
Chapter Two
‘She’s left you in charge?’ Max asked, looking at Ryan with an element of surprise as he stood there in the doorway with Rico in one arm and a towel slung over his shoulder.
‘Y’know, anyone would think I was incapable of looking after my own child. And I thought you were in London. What you doing up here?’
‘It’s derby weekend.’
‘I’m really glad people keep reminding me of that because I’d almost forgotten.’
‘Fatherhood hasn’t dulled your wit, then. You going to let me in? It’s freezing out here.’
Ryan stood aside to let Max through, kicking the door shut behind him. ‘You need to see me about something?’ Ryan asked, following him into the kitchen.
Max leaned back against the counter, digging his hands deep into the pockets of his expensive dark-grey suit. As one of football’s most respected, not to mention most famous agents, he had a reputation to keep up, and, as far as Max Mandell was concerned, image was everything.
‘Not really. I just thought I’d come up north and visit some of my favourite clients.’
Ryan looked at him out the corner of his eye as he rocked Rico gently in his arms. ‘And that’s it?’
‘That’s it. You have a really suspicious mind at times, Ryan Fisher. Anyway, let me have a look at my little future client here.’ He walked over to Ryan, smiling down at Rico, whose eyes had begun to slowly close. ‘Let’s hope he’s inherited some of his father’s talent, huh? The on-the-pitch stuff, that is.’
Ryan held his son close, lowering his head to gently kiss his cheek.
‘You know, I really think he’s changed you,’ Max said, switching the kettle on.
‘It’s hard not to let something like this change you.’ Ryan smiled, stroking Rico’s hair as he slept in his arms. ‘I don’t want to let him down. Or Amber. I’ve let her down enough.’
‘So, how are things between you and my prettiest client?’
Ryan’s eyes stayed focused on his baby boy. ‘I wish I knew.’
‘Oh, Jesus, we�
�re not heading towards another relationship meltdown, are we?’ Max sighed, rolling his eyes.
Ryan looked up. ‘I’m not twelve.’
‘Yeah, okay. I guess I should give you the benefit of the doubt. It certainly seems as though the little fella over there has given you a good kick up the backside.’
Ryan looked back down at his sleeping son’s face. ‘He’s everything I needed, Max. He’s my reason for getting up in the morning. My reason for doing everything now.’
‘Christ, am I talking to the real Ryan Fisher here? Or has he been cloned and replaced with a grown-up version?’
Ryan couldn’t help smiling as he looked up at his agent. ‘The world is full of frigging comedians today. Is it so hard to believe that I might really have changed this time?’
‘Well,’ Max sighed, turning around to make himself a cup of tea. ‘It’s about time, that’s all I can say. And you certainly look as though you’ve settled into fatherhood.’
‘Things would be a hell of a lot better if Amber just realised how much more sensible it would be if we actually lived under the same roof.’
‘She not keen, then?’
‘She doesn’t even want to talk about it.’
‘But you really want to move things forward, I take it?’
‘Of course I do.’
‘You got any idea why Amber’s reluctant to make things more permanent?’
Ryan just threw Max a look, sending out a message Max received loud and clear. A look that said of course he knew why she was reluctant to make things more permanent. Jim Allen. What other reason was there?
‘Well, I’m not sure what I can do about that one, kiddo. Short of some miracle, you’re just going to have to learn to deal with it.’
Ryan continued to gently rock Rico. ‘I really thought this little guy would change things between me and Amber. I thought he’d bring us closer, make her need me more. Guess that just shows how naïve I still am.’
‘You don’t know she’s still hankering after Jim. You’re only assuming.’
Ryan’s eyes met Max’s. ‘She doesn’t want to have sex, she barely even comes near me now. What does that tell you, huh?’
‘She’s just had a baby, Ryan.’
‘Three months ago.’
‘Oh, so you think, what? A couple of weeks and she should have been dragging you back off to bed?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘You’re being paranoid.’
Ryan ignored that comment. ‘And couldn’t you try and get her to take more time off work?’
‘Have you tried getting Amber Sullivan to do anything she doesn’t want to?’
‘Frequently,’ Ryan sighed, absent-mindedly stroking Rico’s dark hair as he slept. ‘I just wish she’d take a step back sometimes. Look at the bigger picture.’
‘And what bigger picture would that be?’ Max asked, sipping his tea.
Ryan threw his head back, letting out another long sigh. ‘Jesus, I don’t know, do I?’
‘You might want to start getting your head straight, kiddo. Big match tomorrow, and Wearside Spartans are no pushover. They’ve had a cracking start to this season, and Brandon Palmer is proving to be a force to be reckoned with. Just like his father used to be in his playing days. That kid’s certainly inherited some of the Allen genes.’
Ryan threw Max another look.
‘Deal with it, Ryan.’ Max placed his half-drunk mug of tea down onto the counter. ‘I’m off to Tynebridge. Want me to pass a message on to Amber?’
Ryan shook his head. ‘Would there be any point?’
*
Amber walked briskly down the tunnel and up the stairs that led back into the ground itself. Her head was down as she reached the top, checking her emails on her phone, so she didn’t see him coming towards her. He was equally as engrossed in something on his own phone, his head also down, so the resulting, inevitable clash couldn’t really have been avoided.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, I…’ She stepped back slightly as her eyes met his, her heart immediately jarring, causing her to take a deep breath. ‘I wasn’t looking where I was going.’
‘No, well, neither was I.’ He smiled, just a small smile, but it reminded Amber of how devastating his smile could be – to her. How it always had been. How it probably always would be. ‘Are you okay? I mean, in general. I haven’t really spoken to you, properly, in a while, so… how are things, with the baby and… is Rico… is he alright?’
‘Rico’s doing just fine, thank you.’ She couldn’t help smiling herself, but this time it was because of the mention of her son’s name. Her perfect boy. ‘He… he’s beautiful. And, yeah, I know every mother probably says that about their baby, but…’
‘If he takes after you then I can only imagine how beautiful he really is.’ Jim’s eyes were still boring into hers, but then, almost as if someone had flicked a switch, he broke the stare and looked back down at his phone. ‘I’d better be going. Got a lot to catch up with before we leave for the hotel tonight. Good to see you, Amber.’
She stood rooted to the spot, watching him as he walked away, back towards his office, her stomach turning involuntary somersaults. Even after everything that had happened.
‘Shit!’ she muttered under her breath, finding Ryan’s number and pressing dial.
‘Hey, beautiful. What’s up?’
‘I’m gonna be tied up here for a bit longer. Can you bring Rico with you when you come down to the stadium?’
‘Yeah, okay. I’ll get him ready and we’ll be with you in about half an hour. Everything alright?’
‘Yeah. Fine. Just a little behind with a few things, that’s all. I’ll see you soon.’ She hung up before he could start anything resembling a conversation. She wasn’t really in the mood, not now.
‘You okay?’
‘I’m fine, Ronnie.’ Amber slid her phone back into her jeans pocket. ‘Where did you spring from, anyway? I thought you were up in the studio.’
‘I was. But they’ve sorted out that lighting problem now. You ready to get out of here?’
Amber fell into step beside him as they made their way through the ground and back up to the studio that had been set up for the live broadcast of tomorrow’s match.
‘Almost. I just want to check over a few things before I go.’
‘What things?’ Ronnie asked, frowning slightly. ‘You’re all but done; you should be heading home now.’
‘Ryan’s bringing Rico with him. He’s got to come here to join the rest of the team before they head off for the hotel, so…’
‘What’s going on, Amber?’ Ronnie stopped walking and leaned back against the wall, folding his arms, his eyes meeting hers, even though she was trying anything she could to avoid looking directly at him.
‘Nothing’s going on.’
‘Cut the crap and talk to me. Come on, I’m your best friend and I know when you’ve got something on your mind. Or should that be someone? Actually, come to think of it, maybe it should be Ryan you’re talking to. I’m no fan of his, as you well know, but that doesn’t mean I agree with you stringing the guy along.’
‘No one’s stringing anyone along.’
Ronnie just arched an eyebrow.
‘Jesus Christ…’ Amber sighed, pushing a hand through her hair. ‘I don’t know.’ She leaned back against the wall beside Ronnie. ‘I can’t stop thinking about him.’
‘Then you need to do something about that.’
‘Like what?’
‘How the hell should I know?’
Amber turned her head to look at Ronnie. ‘This is ridiculous. I’m a frigging mess.’
‘Your life is a mess.’
‘Thanks for that.’
‘Do you want me to lie to you?’
‘No.’
‘Then deal with the truth.’
‘I love you, too.’
He looked at her. ‘I’m not doing this to be cruel, Amber. But you really need to get this sorted. You’ve got a child now. You’ve got
someone other than yourself to think about.’
‘I’m aware of that.’ Her eyes locked with his. ‘I thought I loved him, Ronnie. I really thought I did. Or that I could, again. I thought it would all come back, all those feelings, and I thought I’d just fall in love with him all over again.’
‘I don’t think you’ve ever loved Ryan Fisher. Not really.’
‘Hang on. You don’t know…’
‘Amber, I do. I do know. And I don’t think you ever really loved him.’
Amber looked down at the floor, scraping her heel against the skirting board. ‘He’s never going to go away, is he? Jim. He’s never going to go away.’
‘Not if you don’t want him to.’
She looked back up at Ronnie. ‘He doesn’t want me any more.’
‘And he’s told you that, has he?’
‘He divorced me, Ronnie. What more proof do I need?’
‘That means nothing where you two are concerned.’
‘He doesn’t want me any more,’ Amber repeated, staring back down at the floor. ‘The way he’s acting. I saw him just now and… He doesn’t want me, Ronnie. It’s over.’ She threw her head back and let out a heavy sigh, one that wracked her entire body. ‘Okay.’ She took a long, deep breath, shaking her hair out before pushing both hands through it. ‘It’s time to grow up and do the only thing I can do right now.’
Ronnie frowned slightly. ‘And what’s that, exactly?’
Her eyes met his again, and this time there was a look of determination that he hadn’t seen from her in a while. ‘I’m moving to London.’
Chapter Three
‘London.’ Ryan looked at her as though she’d suddenly started talking in a foreign language. ‘You’re moving to London? And you’re telling me this now? An hour before frigging kick-off?’
‘I don’t want to move to London…’
‘Then why the hell are you going? Jesus, Amber…’
‘Because I have to, Ryan. I have to.’
He stared at her, his dark eyes boring deep into hers. ‘You have to.’
‘I have to,’ she repeated, her voice quiet but steady. Surprisingly so. ‘I can’t stay here, Ryan. I can’t do it any more.’
Ryan took a couple of steps back, pushing a hand through his hair. ‘I fucking hate it when I’m right.’
Final Score Page 2